Lord Voldemort was baffled.
Who exactly had killed Quirrell? Could it be some mysterious entity hiding within the Forbidden Forest?
He knew the Forbidden Forest held many secrets, especially in its deepest regions. But even so—Quirrell had only slain a unicorn. What kind of grudge would warrant such a violent, powerful Avada Kedavra to be cast upon him?
He was unwilling to accept this outcome.
The Philosopher's Stone had been so close. He had been just a step away from fully reviving himself!
No—he hadn't failed yet. There was still a chance to obtain the Philosopher's Stone.
Yes, there was still that young wizard named Dana Emrys! As long as he could enchant or manipulate the boy, he could bypass the protective enchantments at the end of the fourth-floor corridor and seize the Philosopher's Stone for himself.
Quirrell had been unable to handle the three-headed dog, Fluffy, but Dana could! If he could gain control over that body brimming with magic, he would be far more powerful than when he possessed the useless Quirrell!
With this in mind, Lord Voldemort turned back toward Hogwarts.
He slipped into a hidden entrance beside the castle, winding his way through the pipes until he reached a vast underground chamber shrouded in green mist. At the far end stood a massive statue of Salazar Slytherin.
Floating before the statue in his wraith-like form, the black mist that was Lord Voldemort called out:"Speak to me, Slytherin, greatest of the Four Founders!"The statue's mouth began to open slowly, creaking as it widened. After a long moment, a colossal snake slithered out—the Basilisk, whose terror had permeated Harry Potter's entire second year.
Lord Voldemort whispered:"Hiss, hiss, hiss… [Long time no see]"The Basilisk shook its massive head, still groggy from its long slumber. It responded:"Hiss, hiss, hiss… [Little Master… Is that you, Little Master?]"Lord Voldemort felt a twinge of regret. He should have sought out the Basilisk earlier. With it, killing Fluffy would have been trivial. If Quirrell hadn't died, they might already have retrieved the Philosopher's Stone.
But perhaps, because of the many soul fragments he'd separated to make Horcruxes, Lord Voldemort's mind had already become unstable.
Still, it wasn't too late.
The black mist coiled around the Basilisk's head. Though Lord Voldemort was too weak to possess the Basilisk like he had Quirrell, it was easy enough to communicate with it telepathically."Hiss, hiss, hiss… [Go. Find a young wizard named Dana Emrys. Deliver my message to him, and bring him here.]""Hiss, hiss, hiss… [Yes, Little Master.]"Why didn't Lord Voldemort go to Dana himself?
He reasoned that in his weakened state, Dana might resist or even destroy him. But if the powerful Basilisk acted as his messenger, his status would be elevated in the boy's eyes. His words would carry far more weight coming through such a terrifying creature.
What happened in the Forbidden Forest did not become public knowledge.
Harry was ordered to remain silent, and only Hagrid, Dumbledore, and Professor McGonagall knew that Quirrell was dead.
Of course, with Hagrid knowing, it was inevitable that Harry would eventually learn the truth—Rubeus Hagrid had never been good at keeping secrets.
Harry spent two days in the infirmary.
He was in terrible spirits. Two days of rest felt like he had fallen hopelessly behind in his schoolwork. Though Hermione graciously offered to help him catch up, she seemed allergic to stupidity. Sometimes, Harry even wondered if Hermione was actually Snape's illegitimate daughter—her sarcasm matched his exactly.
His mood worsened when he saw Gryffindor's house hourglass in the Great Hall, now nearly empty of rubies."Ron, why was I so stupid? Why didn't I bring the Invisibility Cloak that night?"Ron pursed his lips, unsure how to respond. The truth was, all three of them had gotten carried away. After sending off Norbert and seeing Draco Malfoy punished, they thought they'd pulled off a flawless plan.
Hermione, however, wasn't so forgiving."So instead of reflecting on why you broke the rules, you're trying to figure out how to do it better next time?" she snapped.Though she had also been a co-conspirator, Hermione was adamant she had learned her lesson. (Of course, everyone knew she'd break the rules again if it suited her.)
Upon hearing Harry's complaint, she instinctively fired back—"I'm working hard to earn points for Gryffindor again, so maybe you could try not losing more!"Then she added, rather pointedly:"Look at Dana! He's earned at least ten points for Gryffindor since that night. You're friends with him too. Why don't you learn something from him?"Her words struck a nerve.
Harry stood up so suddenly his chair scraped the floor."Dana, Dana—it's always Dana! Don't mention Dana to me again!"Fuming, he stormed out of the Great Hall, leaving Ron and Hermione speechless.
As fate would have it, he bumped into Dana, who was on his way to dinner. But Harry didn't say a word—he brushed past him like he didn't even exist.
Dana blinked in confusion. Who upset this silly boy now?
—
On the second-floor staircase, Harry suddenly stopped.
He'd heard a cold, dark voice whispering in his ear:"Dana Emrys… Where is Dana Emrys? Master wants me to find Dana Emrys…"Harry froze, his entire body shivering.
Then the voice continued:"Master needs Dana Emrys's help…"Gradually, the voice faded.
Harry stood there, stunned.
He wanted to return to the Great Hall to warn Dana, but for some strange reason, his feet wouldn't move that way. Instead, he turned and walked silently back to the Gryffindor common room.
Meanwhile, Dana emerged from the greenhouse. Herbology class had left him in high spirits—working with magical plants helped calm his mind, though some of them were quite dangerous.
That day, he had stayed behind to ask Professor Sprout a few questions about cultivating magical plants, so he left the greenhouse later than usual.
The buzz about Dana's recent Quidditch fame had faded. As Quirrell had predicted, the students of Hogwarts were quick to forget. Their admiration had turned lukewarm once more, as though their former enthusiasm had never existed.
But today, Dana had an odd feeling—he was being followed.
Crazy fans again?
No, that wasn't it. He saw more kindness from visiting Quidditch rivals than from most of his own classmates these days.
Dana took a sharp left after entering the castle and casually glanced behind him—
No one.
Still, after only two steps, the uneasy feeling returned. He pricked up his ears.
Faint footsteps. A soft rustling sound.
He recognized those footsteps. He had heard them beneath Harry's feet during their Christmas adventure to the Mirror of Erised.
Was Harry following him? Dana frowned. Why would he do that?
Then the rustling grew louder.
Dana was headed to the second floor, planning to stop by the library. Few students went there at this hour—most were already back in their common rooms—so the corridor was nearly deserted.
"Splat!"
A wet, heavy sound echoed from around the corner ahead. Dana halted.
A moment later, a massive snake head appeared around the corner. Two waxy, yellow eyes—each the size of a washbasin—glared in his direction.
He couldn't look directly into the Basilisk's eyes. That would be fatal.
Yet Dana didn't panic.
He swiftly shut his eyes, letting his magic expand outward like sonar. The moment it rebounded, he could "see" the Basilisk's outline through magical feedback. He also sensed Harry Potter, crouching behind him about thirty yards away.
This form of magical detection was rare—only those with strong magical reserves could manage it."Dana!" came Harry's panicked voice.Dana turned and shouted:"Run! Don't come here! Go find a professor!"
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