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he was most displeased. he punished me... decided he would have to

keep a closer wate....”

quirrells voice trailed away. harry was remembering his trip to

diagon alley -how could he have been so stupid? hed seen quirrell

there that very day, shaken hands with him in the leaky .

quirrell der his breath.

”i dont uand... is the stohe mirror? should

i break it?”

harrys mind was rag.

what i wahan ahe world at the moment,

he thought, is to fione before quirrell does. so if i

look in the mirror, i should see myseff finding it -- whis

ill see where its hidden! but how i look without quirrell

realizing what im up to?

he tried to edge to the left, to get in front of the glass

without quirrell notig, but the ropes around his ankles were

too tight: he tripped and fell nored him. he was

still talking to himself. ”what does this mirror do? how does it

work? help me, master!”

and to harrys horror, a voiswered, and the voice seemed

to quirrell himself

”use the boy... use the boy...”

quirrell rounded on harry.

”yes -- potter -- e here.”

he clapped his hahe ropes binding harry fell

ot slowly to his feet.

”e here,” quirrell repeated. ”look in the mirror and tell

me what you see.”

harry walked toward him.

i must lie, he thought desperately. i must look a

what i see, thats all.

quirrell moved close behind him. harry breathed in the funny

smell that seemed to quirrells turban. he closed his eyes,

stepped in front of the mirror, ahem again.

he saw his refle, pale and scared-looking at first. but

a momehe refleiled at him. it put its hand

into its pod pulled out a blood-red sto winked and

put the stone ba its pod as it did so, harry felt

something heavy drop i. somehow -- incredibly --

hed gotteone.

”well?” said quirrell impatiently. ”what do you see?”

harry screwed up his ce.

”i see myself shaking hands with dumbledore,” he ied. ”i --

ive won the house cup fryffindor.”

quirrell cursed again.

”get out of the way,” he said. as harry moved aside, he felt

the sorcerers sto his leg. dare he make a break for it?

but he hadnt walked five paces befh voice spoke,

though quirrell wasnt moving his lips.

”he lies... he lies...”

”potter, e back here!” quirrell shouted. ”tell me the

truth! what did you just see?”

the high voice spoke again.

”let me speak to him... face-to-face...”

”master, you are nh!”

”i have strength enough... for this....”

harry felt as if devils sing him to the spot. he

t move a muscle. petrified, he watched as quirrell reached

up ao un his turban. what was goiurban

fell away. quirrells head lely small without it. then

he turned slowly o.

harry would have screamed, but he t make a sound. where

there should have been a back to quirrells head, there was a face,

the most terrible face harry had ever seen. it was chalk white with

glaring red eyes and slits for nostrils, like a snake.

”harry potter...” it whispered.

harry tried to take a step backward but his legs wouldnt move.

”see what i have bee?” the face said. ”mere shadow and

vapor ... i have form only when i share anothers body... but

there have always been those willio their hearts and

minds.... uni blothehese past weeks... you

saw faithful quirrell drinking it for me i... and once

i have the elixir of life, i will be able to create a body of my

ohy dont you give me that stone in your pocket?”

so he khe feeling suddenly surged bato harrys

legs. he stumbled backward.

”dont be a fool,” she face.