Chapter 25

I woke early the next morning, not out of any real excitement to go see the Quidditch Match, but to get my preparations for the day done. I would need my Family Concealment Cloak if I was to save Harry from the fall that would wind up killing him without anyone knowing. While I was certain that Voldemort could lend Quirrel some level of Occlumency to be able to resist the inbuilt effects of the Cloak, I very much doubted that it would be enough to see through it. Not with his link to Quirrel so tenuous at the best of times.

Somehow, I was also fairly certain that Voldemort didn't have the ability to see through it without prior preparation even without being forced to act through Quirrel. For that to be true, he'd need to be a natural Occlumens, and Tom Riddle had never shown any such bloodline ability. While I supposed it wasn't impossible he could have had such a bloodline talent and kept it hidden even as a child who knew nothing of the Wizarding World, it was unlikely in the extreme.

While there were ways for someone with sufficient mastery of Potioncraft and Alchemy to bolster Occlumency with elixirs, those would require prior preparation that would not be happening on short notice. After all, one of the reasons it was believed that Voldemort feared Dumbledore was that Natural Leglimency was something that was known to run through the Dumbledore Family's Bloodline, with Albus Dumbledore having honed that ability to a truly masterful degree.

It stood to reason that someone who was not a Natural Occlumens or similarly Natural Leglimens would seek to avoid a clash with a Natural Leglimens who honed his abilities to such a degree without being prepared. That would certainly account for the seemingly random withdrawals Voldemort had made from the Battlefield when confronted by Dumbledore during the War. Those 'random' withdrawals were actually the times that Dumbledore had caught Voldemort in the field without his prior preparations. At least so the theory goes, Gods know Voldemort and Dumbledore dueled at other times during the War.

That historical divergence aside, what it effectively meant was that I would be taking my Family Concealment Cloak with me to the Quidditch Match via my Mokeskin Pouch. Aside from that, I would be taking my own broom, and a suite of potions in case of combat, though if I had to face Voldemort in battle right now, there was nothing I could likely do to win. I would also be taking a specially made item that I'd purchased from Zonko's Joke Shop.

Indian Climbing Ropes were a magical item that had been inspired by Muggle Stage Magicians of the Late Nineteenth and Early Twentieth Century. They weren't sold much anymore, but Zonko's kept supplies in stock for specialty customers. They effectively unfurled themselves into a climbing surface apropos of nothing. Furthermore, they could coil themselves back up in the blink of an eye.

My plan, such as it was, was to excuse myself from the match to use the loo and then put on my Concealment Cloak. Once that was done, I would make my way under the bleachers beneath where Quirrel was seated, unfurl the Indian Climbing Rope so that one end ascends just behind Quirrel's shoe through the slats in the bleachers, then affix the end of the rope to his shoe with a quick Stickfast Hex. I would then give the end of the rope near me a tug, effectively sweeping Quirrel's legs out from under him, before casting Finite Incantatem and coiling the rope back up. Sweeping it under the hem of my Concealment Cloak and making my way back to my seat after stowing them both back in my Mokeskin Pouch.

If I did it right, it should look as if Quirrel simply caught his foot in the slats in the bleachers and tripped himself up. Because he'd gone so far as to look like a complete klutz as part of his cover, people should have no trouble believing him to be clumsy enough to trip while sitting. I cracked a grin as I realized I would effectively be turning Quirrel's cover against him in this instance. The Irony was both delicious and palpable. After all, Voldemort was considered quite the Strategist before he started making Phylacteries all willy-nilly and went a bit mad. Getting one over on him partly by using a strategy he no doubt had a hand in crafting was something I would treasure for the rest of my life.

It was unfortunate, but it seemed like the way Hermione had stopped Quirrel in canon, by conjuring Bluebell Flames to startle him, was not an available option. She'd had too many things to learn thanks to the Cross-House Study Group to come up with the spell this time around. I could use a regular Incindio, of course, but that ran risks Bluebell Flames didn't, namely the risk of spreading to the bleachers. Bluebell Flames didn't burn in the same way that regular fire did, after all. There was no risk of the flames spreading to the bleachers and possibly burning innocent bystanders with Bluebell Flames like there was with normal fire.

At any rate, I packed everything I would need into my Mokeskin and headed for the shower. I let the water run over me as I breathed in and out, psyching myself up for the day's events. This would be the first clash I had with an actual minion of Voldemort. Not schoolkids who were trying to settle a grudge with a friend of mine, not bewitched Magical Creatures, but an actual, thinking, qualified, Minion. Granted if everything went according to plan, no combat would take place, but it was still a huge step forward. It had to be done, though, for the good of Wizarding Britain, at least. I wasn't too sold on Voldemort being a danger to the whole world just yet. He hadn't shown any of the sort of reach he would require in canon and I had yet to see anything world-shattering from him yet this time around.

As I turned the tap off, I reflected that being a danger to Wizarding Britain was enough on its own. I lived here after all, and it wasn't as if my family were willing to let me back into Wizarding Italy for more than a visit. Not after they'd cut me out of the succession and sent my arse back to Blighty on an express delivery. If I tried to make a home there, I'd probably find myself accosted by Hit Wizards before I knew it, and while I was rich enough to be able to live pretty much anywhere I wanted, those funds were stored in a vault in Gringotts, which was in Wizarding Britain.

No, even if I hadn't been forced to get involved in the Plot by the questionnaire I'd filled out, there were really only two choices I had. Fight Voldemort and win, or join him. The Latter Option wasn't exactly something that was conducive to anyone's health either, even discounting Harry and the forces he managed to put together, Voldemort was a sadist who enjoyed tormenting his own minions for anything he perceived as a failure. That had been true in canon, and I had yet to see if it was different here. The History Books said that it wasn't, at least. That left option one, Resistance.

As I dressed for the day, getting ready for the match. I threw on a casual outfit of green slacks, pants, and a green tie with an off-green dress shirt. Then shrugged on my new Enchanted Brown Leather Tebo Duster, belted on my mokeskin pouch, and grabbed my wand. Then I was out the door and into the Common Room.

As I exited, I found Daphne, Tracey, and Millie waiting for me. The three of them were in Official House Colors. All of them were dressed similarly in Green Vests with Silver Embroidery, Green Skirts, and white dress shirts. None of them had coats on just yet, mind you, but they clearly didn't have them to hand either.

"You're not wearing the team outfits." Pointed out Daphne.

"I wasn't aware there were team outfits." I blinked.

"The Upper Years have been selling them to students who asked as a way to raise funds. Apparently, Harry Potter bought a Nimbus Two-Thousand Racing Broom, and the team has been trying to fundraise a similar upgrade for the whole team." Explained Tracey.

"Why not just have their parents pay for them?" I questioned.

"They tried, apparently it's not within the spirit of competition, though the Teachers would allow Terry to get his folks to buy him a broom to Match Potters'. They wouldn't though." Informed Millie.

"Did you really not know they were trying to fundraise?" Queried Daphne.

"I already told you, I don't care for Quidditch. Certainly not enough to pay attention to fundraising efforts." I retorted.

"It's the House Team, though. You should at least care enough to pay attention because of that." Insisted Tracey.

"You've seen my schedule. What part of that makes you think I'd spend any of my limited free time on a Quidditch-related activity?" I asked.

"It doesn't matter now, I suppose." Sighed Daphne.

"Yeah, at least you're here." Agreed Tracey.

"Besides, it's too late to get you an outfit anyway. We should just crack on." Nodded Millie.

"I'm ready, but won't you get cold?" I questioned.

"We can cast warming charms if we need them." Shrugged Daphne.

"It's November. Are you telling me you're willing to rely on warming charms in November? In Scotland?" I queried.

"It's early November. It's not that cold yet." Frowned Tracey.

"He's Italian, maybe he's not used to the weather yet?" Asked Millie.

"I live near Dover. It doesn't usually drop much below eight degrees down there, even in the dead of winter." I pointed out.

That would be forty-six in Fahrenheit were I still American in this life. While my Old Body was used to Chicago Winters that were on average twice as cold as the ones in Dover, this body definitely wasn't. Blaise spending Summers in Southern Europe for a bunch of his life hadn't helped on that front much either if I had to guess. It seemed the girls agreed with that assessment because they broke out into a round of giggles and snickers at that.

"Don't worry, if you get too cold we'll include you in our warming charms." Teased Daphne.

"Thank you. Such a generous offer." I snarked with a roll of my eyes.

"Yes, I rather thought it was." Grinned Daphne before breaking out into another bout of giggles.

Soon enough, however, I found myself following the Girls down to the Quidditch Pitch for the match. Apparently, they wanted to leave early to get good seats, otherwise, it was likely that we'd end up with bad seats and have to pay for some of the seats that Cassius Warrington usually got some of his fellow third years to block off just for that occasion. Apparently, Millie had a cousin who'd graduated last year and she said Warrington and about five other boys in his year always wound up commandeering a section of seats that they then sold access to. Anyone who didn't get a good seat in the Slytherin Section would be forced to pay Warrington for the privilege of sitting in one of his seats. Apparently, they didn't come cheap either.

"A galleon for access for starters. Morgana claimed he increases the price based on how many people are in the stands and how many seats he has left." Mused Millie.

"Isn't that a bit overkill?" Questioned Tracey.

"It isn't like most of Slytherin can't afford it, Tracey." I admitted.

"Still." Frowned Tracey.

"Why haven't the teachers put a stop to it?" Queried Daphne.

"Morgana claimed that Warrington cuts Snape in on the take for three Galleons a game and he goes to bat for them in front of the rest of the staff." Shrugged Millie.

"That doesn't leave enough profit to be worth it for just half a dozen seats. Just how many seats does Warrington's Group block off?" I asked.

"Apparently he's allowed to block off two entire rows but no more." Answered Millie.

"That's enough for fourteen students. Let's say he charges roughly a Galleon and a Half on average for each seat and fills up both rows. That's twenty-one Galleons a game, minus three to Snape is eighteen Galleons split six ways that's three Galleons per person, per game. Depending on the amount charged, of course. Not a bad racket." I mused.

"Not bad at all. Expensive for those who don't show up early, though." Sniffed Daphne.

"And this information you got from your Cousin Morgana is reliable?" Questioned Tracey.

"Morgana's family." Insisted Millie.

"Ah. Say no more." Nodded Daphne, sagely.

"I'm not sure I follow. Why does that matter?" I queried.

"Your family doesn't look out for one another?" Asked Millie.

"Some families aren't like yours, Millie. My family were pretty quick to cut me out of the succession and pack me back to Britain, after all." I shrugged.

"I get it." Commiserated Tracey.

"Indeed. Some people's families cannot recognize what they have. They're fools because of it." Intoned Daphne, giving my hand and Tracey's hand a squeeze each.

I nodded back at Daphne, honestly thankful for the support. Before I could vocalize that thanks, however, we arrived at the Quidditch Pitch. The Slytherin section was actually fairly close to the section where the staff and any miscellaneous visitors would be sitting. That was good since it would let me disappear to go deal with Quirrel fairly quickly. To that end, I steered the group toward a section closer to the aisles. The wooden bleachers were interrupted at various points by stairs that wound their way up the rather ramshackle-looking series of wooden slats that the Quidditch Bleachers were made out of. As we sat, we noticed several Third Years picking out a section of the bleachers higher up and in the middle of the Slytherin Section, Warrington's Goons picking the best seats in the house for their racket.

Soon enough, however, the bleachers started to fill up as various people arrived from breakfast. Surprisingly, or perhaps not if you knew them as I did, the Gryffindors weren't showing up until the stands were already half-filled. While Gryffindor selected for bravery, I found it didn't much select for the sorts of blokes who'd lay out a plan. Gryffindors tended to wing it more often than not, which this was a clear example of, showing up later. Indeed, by the time the Gryffindor seats were halfway filled, Slytherin and Ravenclaw were already full-up, while Hufflepuff had actually been the first section to fill. I supposed when your House Virtue was hard work, you tended to be the early bird about these sorts of things.

Eventually, however, everyone who was going to arrive had arrived. Lee Jordan, up in the announcer's box began to hype up the crowd as the teams took the field, meeting in the center near where Madame Hooch had a leather and wood chest that was jumping around as if whatever it contained was trying to break out. Of course, I knew it absolutely was, being that what was inside was the quaffle, bludgers, and snitch. Madam Hooche gave her usual speech about cheating and playing a fair game, before opening the chest. The bludgers, quaffle, and snitch practically exploded out of their captivity, flinging themselves high into the air. Both teams mounted their brooms and Madame Hooch blew her whistle.

The Slytherin-Gryffindor Quidditch Match had begun and all eyes were glued on the players except for mine. While the others were apparently spellbound watching the teams attempt to best each other in the most ridiculous of Wizarding Sports, I had my eyes on something else.

Instead of watching the game, I was watching Quirrel. If he wanted to start his Broom Jinx, nobody else would be paying enough attention to stop him. They would be too wrapped up in the match for that. Not me, though. I would be ready for Quirrel's casting of a spell to put an end to Harry Potter before he became a threat and make it look like an accident.

And when I intervened, nobody would be paying enough attention to see it was me who did it. . .

XXXX

Harry Potter Scanned the sky, looking for the Golden Snitch, trying desperately to find a single, shining, speck of gold in the sunny sky. You'd think all the sun would help him with that sort of thing, reflecting off the golden metal of the snitch casing, but it turned out not to be the case. At the very least any benefits to be had from a sunny day were canceled out by the damnable glare.

It was worse because Harry was near-sighted. His glasses, the very reason he was able to serve as a Seeker in the first place, were a liability on a sunny day, as they only magnified the glare from the sun. Indeed, Harry's only chance had been to fly high up above the pitch to try and gain a better vantage that would hopefully not have him craning his neck at too high an angle. That only made the glare from the sun worse. They'd been playing for close to forty-five minutes and Harry had learned that lesson by now.

"What I wouldn't give for a few clouds right now." Muttered Harry.

Suddenly, a Bludger came flying up at him from below! Harry began to pull his broom to the right in an attempt to dodge, but he needn't have worried, Fred Weasley, or maybe it was George, it was hard to tell with things going so quickly like this. Anyway, one of the Weasley Twins shot up between Harry and the Bludger and smashed the angry ball with his Beater's Bat, deflecting the Bludger away from Harry.

"All right, Harry?" Grinned the Twin, which now that Harry could hear him was definitely Fred.

"I'm all right, thanks, Fred!" Nodded Harry.

"Right then, once more into the breach, eh?" Smirked Fred.

 Then he dove back down into the morass of players, laughing his arse off and waving his beater's bat around over his head like it was a sword. Fred Weasley as a Knight of the Realm, now there was a scary thought. Harry couldn't help but chuckle, though. Fred's laughter was infectious, after all. Moments later, though, Harry noticed a flash of something gold in the sky.

"The Snitch!" Hissed Harry.

He moved to chase after it, spotting the Slytherin Seeker, Terence Higgs, moving to do the same. Terence was a lot more experienced at this than Harry was though, which meant he had a few moments headstart on him. A few moments could be the difference between winning and losing, though. Harry chased after the Snitch and fortunately, found his broom faster than the ones the Slytherins were using. Fast enough to close the gap between him, Terence, and the Snitch. Harry janked to the right to attempt to cut Terence off from catching the snitch but was immediately forced to pull up to avoid Marcus Flint. The Slytherin Captain trying to ram Harry to keep him from catching the snitch. The Snitch plummeted past both Harry and Terence, slipping between them, and forced both of them to dive after it.

Just as Harry pulled himself into a dive, however, angling slightly to dodge a second Bludger, he suddenly began to jerk about wildly on his broom. It was as if someone or something had wrested control of his broom from his grasp. It stalled him in mid-air as he held on for dear life. Fortunately, Terence Higgs seemed to miss the Snitch, a bludger being deflected his way by one of the Weasley Twins and sending him dipping down to the ground, literally, eating turf in the process. The Snitch ascended back up into the sky, leaving Harry to focus on more important things. Like trying not to be thrown off his broom from fifty feet in the air.

After all, his life was more important than a game. . .

XXXX

As soon as both Seekers raced upward toward the Snitch, I excused myself from my spot next to the Girls in the stands, claiming I had to answer the call of nature. They didn't question it and I made my way down the steps, vanishing into the behind the bleachers area just as all eyes were locked on Harry thanks to his broom suddenly going spasmodic. I knew I didn't have too long before the intensity started ramping up. Snape could only hold the man so long with Voldemort making his presence known in Quirrel's Spellcasting, after all.

I began to put my plan into motion, throwing on my Family Concealment Cloak from my Mokeskin Pouch as soon as I was out of sight behind the bleachers and making my way over to the spot beneath where Quirrel was sitting. Once I arrived, I pulled the Indian Climbing Rope from Zonko's out of my Mokeskin Pouch, touching my wand to the rope to get it to climb into the air and guiding it with my hands toward the slats where Quirrel's Shoes were visible, if only just.

Once I'd gotten the Rope in the right area, a quick Stickfast Hex affixed the rope to the heel of Quirrel's Shoe with a whispered incantation of 'Colloshoo' and a swift wand motion. Then, I downed a Strength Potion from my Mokeskin Pouch, feeling the extra power surge through my body as I grabbed the end of the Indian Climbing Rope with one hand and pulled. The sudden stumble I was rewarded with from above let me know I had succeeded in my aims.

A Finite Incantatem and a touch of my wand to the rope later and I was making my way toward the toilets near the Quidditch Pitch. The Boys' Toilets were empty and I picked a stall, shut the door, and put the Indian Climbing Rope and Family Concealment Cloak back into my Mokeskin Pouch. That done, I exited the stall, flushing the toilet as if I'd just gone to the bathroom with no one the wiser as to my activities. I returned just in time to see the end of the Quidditch Match as Harry caught the Golden Snitch at one hour into the game.

Now all that was left was to see if anyone noticed who had saved Harry. . .

XXXX

Severus Snape detested the insipid sport of Quidditch. Mostly, this dislike was based on his inclination toward more intellectual pursuits, but even he could admit that James Potter having been the Gryffindor Seeker during those long years of torment hadn't helped endear the sport to him any. Unfortunately, as it was the season opener, and his House was playing against their Rivals in Gryffindor, Severus had felt obliged to come to the game.

Mind you, the game had its moments. When that bludger had almost hit James' Spawn only to be beaten back by one of the Weasley Twins, he'd let out a cheer, though not for the reasons most did. The same held true when Marcus Flint forced James Potters' Spawn back away from the Golden Snitch by attempting to Ram him.

Of course, Severus would never stand for any serious harm to be done to the Boy. He owed Lily that much for what brief time they'd had together. A bludger wouldn't do any serious harm, however, and the Boy had clearly avoided Flint's charge adeptly enough, so Severus figured that neither counted as dishonoring Lily's memory. He could cheer for those all he wanted, even though he only let out a single bark of laughter each time. Anything more would have been undignified.

That was when the Broom the Potter Boy had been using began to suddenly begin jerking and flailing around like a Unicorn that was attempting to be ridden by someone not pure of heart. That was unusual enough. Such malfunctions could happen on brooms, but never this wildly and with such force. No, this had to be the result of a Wizard trying to kill the boy by throwing him off his broom.

Well, Severus Snape wouldn't hold with that sort of thing. He owed Lily too much to see her son killed before his eyes. He began incanting a general counter-curse that should counteract the effects of any such hex, jinx, or curse. Provided that his opponent was not more powerful than Severus was himself. Given how Severus was a Qualified Potions Master and a capable duelist, however, that seemed unlikely.

Nonetheless, partway through the battle of curse and counter-curse, Severus suddenly felt his magic be pushed back by the magic of his mysterious opponent. It was almost as if whoever he was dueling had suddenly decided to stop holding back and reveal himself to be more powerful than Severus was, the very thing that could see his efforts undone and Lily's Boy killed! Even now the shaking of Potters' Broom had regained the force it had held at the start! If Severus died with that sort of debt attached to his soul, it would only compound his prior debts and he was certain he wouldn't be able to face Lily in the Afterlife! That was intolerable, he had to redouble his efforts!

Severus poured more power into his Counter-Curse, clawing back some measure of control over the Broom and allowing the shaking to die down to a less violent level. It was only temporary, however, as the reserves of magic his mysterious opponent possessed seemed to be unflagging in their depth. Severus knew if nothing changed, then he would lose this contest of magic and incur even more of a spiritual debt to Lily!

Then, as suddenly as it had begun, the magic gripping the broom subsided, losing its strength and letting Severus' Counter-Curse tear it to shreds. Severus breathed out a sigh of relief at that, his focus coming back to himself as he looked around him. He spotted Quirrel picking himself up off the bleachers. Had that Dunderheaded Fool somehow managed to trip himself up while sitting? How someone like that had become the Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor instead of him, Severus would never understand. He should have stuck with Muggle Studies, it suited him more. After all, the Muggles only managed to advance by stumbling around with forces beyond their comprehension, much like Quirrel here seemed to be doing.

"Do you require aid, Quirinius?" Questioned Severus.

"N-no t-t-thank you Severus. I t-t-think I c-can m-manage." Nodded Quirrel before limping his way down the bleachers.

"Are you certain? You seem quite accident-prone." Pressed Severus, veiled insult calculated to harm Quirrel's Image.

"It's j-just a s-sprain. Some t-time resting ought to t-t-take care of it." Stuttered Quirrel.

Of course, the fool was too dunderheaded to notice when he was being insulted. Severus had no idea why he was surprised at the Man's incompetence anymore. Either way, he could waste no more time on Quirinius Quirrel. He inclined his head and watched Quirrel limp off to his office to sulk, as he had after the Halloween Incident. Severus turned his attention back to Lily's Boy, just in case his mysterious opponent returned.

It was not to be, however, and Potter caught the Snitch not ten minutes later, ending the game with a win for Gryffindor. Severus couldn't help himself, he let out a low growl of frustration at that. How like James Potter his son seemed to be. That was something that James Potter would have done just before he and his band of miscreants decided to celebrate by bullying some hapless sod, usually Severus. With a sneer, Severus Snape stalked off down the stairs, headed for the Slytherin Dungeons.

Suddenly, he no longer felt the need to socialize further today. . .

XXXX

I walked back to the Common Room from the Quidditch Pitch with Daphne, Tracey, and Millie. None of them seemed willing to engage in conversation after the loss. Not even speculation about what had happened to Harry's Broom. Instead, they were sulking the whole walk back. As soon as we returned, I left them to it, instead deciding to focus on my own training, which I had sorely been lacking in this week, owing to my need to craft.

I spent the rest of the day training Occlumency, Leglimency, the Dead Moment, and Psychometry, only coming out at dinner time. The Girls were still sulking, though, and therefore, they weren't the best conversation partners. Meanwhile, I found all my other friends missing from the Great Hall for dinner. I would later find out that this was because of a party celebrating the victory being held in Gryffindor Tower that Slytherins weren't invited to, even ones who were friends with Harry, on the insistence of Oliver Wood, Gryffindor Quidditch Team Captain.

That night, as I went to sleep, however, I received another vision. This one didn't show one of my friends dying, though. It showed flashes of chambers, each with various challenges to be overcome. I saw the ones I knew about, Fluffy the Cerberus, the Devil's Snare, Key Room, Chess Room, Logic Puzzle, Trolls, and Mirror, but also ones I didn't. A Trio of Puzzle Rooms, one that used Runic Sequences to open the way through, one that involved constellations, and one that involved a book puzzle. It seemed as if there were more than just the canon challenges here from the first timeline.

As I watched on, I saw the ways to overcome the challenges in my dreams. The Canon ones had the Canon solutions, but the Runic Sequence Puzzle Room required you to synch up the Futhark Runes of Naudhiz, Wunjo, Raidho, Sowilo, Ehwaz, Algiz, and Fehu together in a way that avoided the Isa, Hagalaz, and Thurisaz Runes, which would freeze, cut, and shock you respectively if you attempted to open the door with them included in the array. Meanwhile, the Constellation Puzzle required you to find your way through a small, mist-shrouded, area using only the constellations as your compass. The Book Puzzle required the user to find the answer to a riddle inscribed on the door forward in one of a number of books, some of which would attempt to impede you by reading them, putting the reader into a dreamless sleep or apparating the reader back to Fluffy's Room. Fortunately, the rules for how to tell what books not to pick up were written on the wall, if you cared to read them.

All told, I got a vision of traps that hadn't been present the first time around, as well as what I generally needed to do in order to solve them. Of these three new challenges, none could really be considered something that would stop an adult Wizard, much less one with Voldemort literally whispering in his ear the whole time. It truly did hit home the fact that the only real defense the stone had was the Mirror, which was all it really needed since the only way that the stone could be taken out of the Mirror was if the person trying to take it out truly didn't want to use it for themselves in any way. Something that no follower of Voldemort or Voldemort himself would ever think of. Even forcing Harry at wand point to get the stone for him wouldn't work, since Harry would want to use the stone to save himself from being killed by giving it to Quirrel. It was an ingenious move from Dumbledore.

As I awoke the next morning, I felt even more certain than ever that all I had to do this year was ensure my friends stayed alive and the Voldemort problem would solve itself. . .

XXXX

AN: All right, so here's the next chapter. Quirrel gets foiled in his plot to kill Harry before Harry can become a problem by Blaise and we get a bit of a glimpse at what the new challenges for the stone look like. It's a Rune Puzzle, an Astronomy Puzzle, and a Book Puzzle. You can probably guess whose rooms those are just by what the challenges are.

Also, I ascribe to the theory that the challenges were never meant to stop Voldemort, just waste his time while simultaneously providing a challenge for Harry as a test of worthiness. After all, why else would they use challenges that can be beaten with stuff from the First Year Curriculum? Only the Mirror was a real defense, and it's honestly all that was needed, given the stipulation for retrieving the Stone from the Mirror. Really, that was kind of the best move Dumbledore could have pulled.

At any rate, the next chapter will be another time-skippy one as we fast forward toward the Christmas Holidays. Not a lot happens in the rest of November in canon, after all.

Stay tuned. . .