Cold sweat beaded on his forehead. Harry knew that he should attack now, whilst his enemy was unaware of his presence. Harry knew that, even though Quirrell was rubbish at Defence, as an adult he would have the advantage in a fight. Harry knew that, every second he hesitated, he might be sealing not only his own fate but that of his friends. Yet he couldn’t bring himself to curse Quirrell, not like this.

Eventually, Harry could bear the tension no longer: he had to do something. Then it struck him; the disarming spell wasn't even a jinx, really. “Expelliarmus!”

As Quirrell’s wand soared into Harry’s hand, the Defence Professor spun round, murder in his eyes.

Fear jolted through Harry’s body, causing him to stagger back, and the little golden dagger, sensing the child’s terror, glowed within his pocket: Harry’s vision blurred then sharpened as his pupils reformed into slits.

*“Sssssssstay your fangssssssss, Cobrrra!”* Harry heard himself spit in a high, harsh tone completely unlike his own.

Now it was Quirrell’s turn to step back “L..Lord?” he stuttered.

There was a pause and then, to Harry’s horror, a second voice spoke, one which seemed to come from Quirrell but was not spoken by his lips.

*“Harry, hatchling. What a pleasssssant sssssssurprissssse.”

Harry’s green eyes opened wide and the slit pupils contracted into their usual shape. *“Pleasssssant?”* Harry asked, in his own voice.

*“Indeed. It issss rare that I meet with a sssssspeaker and rarer sssssstill that one bessssssts me. ”* the voice psshed sweetly. *“Sssssslytherin Houssse hassss a true ssssssson in you.”*

Harry blinked. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go.

*“Now, Harry hatchling, sssssit quietly. When I am returned to my ssssscalesss, we will talk at length. There mussssst be much you wisssh to know.”*

Harry’s mouth worked silently, then he spat *“The sssstone issssss not your rightful prey and if you ssssssteal it, you bring venom onto Nicholas Flamel!”*

The voice chuckled *“Ssssso brave. But no, little hatchling, I do not wisssssh to ssssteal. Ssssome live-giving-water issss all I dessssssire.”*

“Lord…” Quirrell gasped “I see the stone, I see myself giving it to you, but I cannot get at it!”

*“Ssssssilence”* the voice spat.

*“You hissss that the ssssssssun isss black”* Harry cried *“You brought venom onto my hatcherssss!”*

*“Harry, hatchling”* Voldemort responded in a softened tone *“I did not intend to kill your hatchersss, I dessssssired only to talk with them. They attacked and I fought. The nessssst caved in, killing ussssss all.”

*“ You hissss that the ssssssssun isss black”* sscched Harry.

*“Consssssssider, hatchling, hassss anyone ssssspoken of that night to you, hassss anyone shown you the nesssst in which your hatchersss lived?”*

*“No!”* Harry Sscched.

*“They do not wisssssh you to know that the sssssun isssss gold.”* Voldemort hissed gently. *“If you but help me to return to my sssssscalessss, I will ssssspeak.”*

*“I do not trussssst you.”* Harry fisssed.

*“True blood of Sssssssslytherin.”* psshed Voldemort proudly *“Sssssssso knowing, sssssssso knowing. I will vow on my fangssss. Vow not to bite Harry hatchling.”*

*“Or anyone elssssssse, ever again”* Harry hissed sharply “Or command otherssss to bite.”*

*“True Sssssslytherin, you bring pride to you Houssssse.”* psshed Voldemort *“Come, hatchling, I will make an unbreakable vow”*

*“And who will bind your vow, egg-eater?!”* spat Slytherin from the Mirror of Erised.

Quirrell turned, gaping at the ancient wizard, who was glaring from the mirror’s depths, baring his fangs *“Oh, yesssssssss! I sssssssee you, biter of kin and hatchlingssssssss. You are no blood of mine! Sssssslither, Harry!” He cried “Sssssssslither asssss if the rock beneath you sssssscorched your sssssssscales!”*

As Harry bolted away, Voldemort cried *“Sssssseize him!”*

Harry leapt towards the doorway, only to be tackled at the last moment. The wands flew out of Harry’s grasp, disappearing through the threshold, and Quirell pinned him to the ground.

Harry fought, trying to pull himself out of the much larger adult’s grasp. But Quirrell was stronger; he grabbed Harry’s arm and started dragging the struggling child across the floor. Harry gripped Quirell’s hand, in an attempt to prise away those bruising fingers and the Defence Professor screamed, releasing Harry as if burnt.

Shocked, Harry stood glued to the spot, his eyes fixed on the red-raw fingerprints on the back of Quirell’s hand.

“Lord!” cried Quirrell in despair “I cannot… he burnt me!”

*“Fool! Ssssseize him”* Voldemort spat. Looking frightened, Quirrell took a step towards Harry, who backed away, holding up his hands.

*“Go for the eyessssssss!”* spat Slytherin from the Mirror *“Ssscorch him, sssssscorch the ssssssscales from hissssss flessssssh!”*

“Lord!” begged Quirrell, wringing his hands.

*“Worthlessss! Then bring venom onto him!”* spat Voldemort.

Quirrell hesitated, then jerkily approached Harry, as if some part of him was resisting “I’ll, I’ll make it quick, Potter" he said, a nervous tick flickering under his eye, "Come here.”

Blood pounding in his veins, Harry backed up against the wall. Quirell was blocking his exit and he was totally trapped. The golden dagger glowed again and Harry’s pupil’s elongated. The jewelled sheath flew off the dagger as Harry wrenched the blade from his pocket. Although Harry trembled, the hand which held it, long fingered and clawed, was steady.

*“Begone, egg-eater”* spat the high, harsh voice *“Or I will rend the sssscalessss from your bonesssss. You shall not touch my heir. Begone!”*

Slack-jawed and wide-eyed, Quirrell’s attention was riveted on Harry, whose form flickered between that of a small, scrawny boy, and a tall, imposing snake youkai. The distraction was such that they did not notice Hissy’s gigantic form slithering up behind them until just a fraction of a moment too late.

With a vicious, serpentine smile on his lipless mouth, Hissy snapped at Quirrell, his fangs sinking deep into the man’s body. The basilisk dropped his prey, sneering harshly *“I will not kill you with my gazzzzze, egg-eater. You will suffer long, as you forced me to ssssuffer.”*

Quirrell shuddered as the deadly poison crept through his veins and, suddenly, his eyes changed; the wintry hardness faded, they became more human.

“Harry!” he whispered “Th…thank you.”

Harry’s jaw dropped and his green eyes widened in disbelief.

“I… I die clean, clean of the… the demon who has long possessed me.” Quirrell said, his voice slurred “More… more’n I ever… hoped!”

Behind Harry, Hissy listened intently, his orange tongue savouring the air, tasting the truth of Quirrell’s sentiments.

“You… you weren’t in league with him?” Harry gasped, kneeling at the man’s size.

“N…never. Never… My mother… muggleborn… I tau…ght muggle studies. Didn’t know! Didn’t know what he was until… Oh!”

Quirrell looked up at Harry, his eyes bright “H..he forced me.. didn't want to... tried to resist" Quirrell coughed, blood spattering his lips "S…sorry.”

Harry’s lips trembled and tears overspilled his eyes. “Please, please hang on!” the child pleaded “I’ll get help!”

Quirrell smiled, shutting his eyes and Harry, totally overwrought, wept with wild abandon, his tears streaming, in rivulets over the man’s inert body.

Salt, water and a trace, the merest trace, of neutralised Basilisk venom.