Blake locked eyes with Harry, gesturing towards where he'd dropped his wand earlier.
But Quirrell was quick - he was imbued with the power of Lord Voldemort after all.
"Crucio!" he screamed, pointing his wand at Blake, who just about managed to dodge. The pillar which he had been standing in front of was now rubble. Crucio - that's got to be the Cruciatus.
"You fool, don't waste any more time! Kill the mudblood!" Voldemort's voice screamed from the back of Quirrell's head, and Quirrell screamed out in pain.
Dumbass, Blake thought.
"Avada Kedavra!" Quirrell screamed, and a jet of green light whizzed towards Blake. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Harry clutch his scar in pain, but Blake didn't dwell on it - he couldn't afford to, because Blake had to be ready for it - in fact, he'd even set it up.
As soon as Quirrell began his spell, Blake transfigured the debris lying on the ground, conjuring it into a wall right in front of him. It worked perfectly - the wall exploded on impact, but the curse fizzled out. Greengrass was right. Transfiguration - and reaction time - is the counter to the Killing Curse.
"Fool!" Voldemort screamed again, louder than ever, and somehow, Quirrell fell to his knees. Voldemort's anger… It's crippling Quirrell.
"How dare you let a mudblood like him stand against me?"
Blake rushed towards Quirrell, as did Harry, and for a second, the boys truly believed they could win.
"Expelliarmus!" Harry shouted, and Quirrell's wand flew out of his hand. The defeated Professor looked up at the students in fear, and Blake raised his wand. I saw the wand movement… I know the incantation…
Without wasting a second, Blake went for it.
"Avada K-"
Quirrell screamed, and suddenly, he was standing again, his wand somehow had flown back into his hand, and Blake and Harry were pushed violently back into the wall.
Harry and Blake both screamed out in pain. My ribs, Blake thought, dazed. He had heard a sickening crack, and right now, he could barely breathe. Blake managed to look at Harry. He was out cold. My wand… where is it?
"You disgusting, worthless, filthy little mudblood," Voldemort hissed, his voice thick with hatred. "How dare you! How dare you think that you, the Flaw of Slytherin, stand up to me, it's Heir? Quirrell, punish the mudblood."
"Crucio!"
That jet of red light flew from Quirrell's wand, and there was nothing Blake could do to stop it. He screamed, louder than he'd ever screamed before, for the pain was unlike anything he'd ever known. He couldn't breathe, he couldn't think. There was nothing he could do except to accept the pain, yet that was impossible. This… this is it… I'm going to die… I'm going to go mad…
But suddenly - the pain ceased. It took a few moments for Blake to come back to reality, but he saw it - the room was somehow on fire, and Quirrell and Voldemort were both screaming at the entrance. Harry was by his side now, awake, probably by his screams, and begging him to get up.
As Blake rose shakily, something flew out from the entrance - is that a bottle? Glass shattered on the floor in front of Quirrell, and flames engulfed him, leaving Quirrell screaming again.
Greengrass! Blake thought, elated despite his pain. Quirrell's trying to put them out with water, but they're not - definitely magically enhanced, it'll take him a while.
"Greengrass is back," Harry whispered to him as the two hid behind one of the few undestroyed pillars.
"She's got potions, and she's been lobbing them at him."
"But how didn't she hit us?"
Harry looked sheepish for a moment.
"Uh… I woke up and you were screaming - Quirrell had you in the air, and you looked like you were being tortured, but I couldn't find my wand, so the only thing I could do was try to push him-"
"You pushed him?" Blake asked, incredulous.
"But it worked! He burned at my touch!" Harry said excitedly. "Whenever I touch him he burns, and runs away!"
Blake's mind raced. That definitely has to do with how Harry survived the killing curse when he was a baby - and that's got to be why Dumbledore let Harry come down here! He had to have known that Harry would get the Stone, and Quirrell wouldn't be able to touch him! As long as Harry has the Stone, Voldemort can't get it!
"But he's not dying," Blake said to himself. Although Quirrell was writhing in pain, he wasn't dying. Voldemort was keeping him alive.
"Harry, listen to me. Voldemort - or Quirell, whatever it is - they're not dying yet, and Greengrass only has so many potions - we need to rush him, and you need to grab his head, preferably where Voldemort is."
Harry looked like he was thinking for a second, before nodding his head in agreement.
"Okay. When?"
"I'll tell you - I'll go first and distract him - you sneak up on him from the side, so neither Quirrell nor Voldemort can see you. Got it?"
"Got it."
I'm weaker now - much weaker - I can feel it. The Cruciatus Curse took a lot of my magical strength, somehow. But still, I should be able to fire off some of them…
Blake bided his time - from what he knew of Greengrass, she likely had more potions - she was a witch who always played to her strengths after all, and potions were her greatest strength. Come on, Greengrass, do it!
And just as Voldemort-Quirrell seemed to be recovering, a potion came from the entrance, landing directly on Quirrell's robes, setting him on fire once again.
"Now!" Blake shouted, and he rushed towards Quirrell, and mustering up all the magical power he could, he screamed, "Stupefy!" over and over again, and between Greengrass's flames and Blake's onslaught of stunning spells, Quirrell could barely defend himself, let alone see Harry approaching from the side.
Harry screamed, and jumped onto Quirrell despite the flames, snatching away his wand and throwing it away with one hand, and grabbing onto Voldemort's head with the other. Harry, Voldemort and Quirrell all screamed out in pain, and Blake hurriedly put out the flames, trying to help, but even as the flames died out, the screaming persisted, until finally, Voldemort screamed shriller and louder than ever before, and Blake saw his shadowy spectre leave Quirell, who crumpled to the ground, and float towards the exit. Blake pointed his wand towards the spectre and fired a stun spell at it, but it phased right through Voldemort.
"COME BACK, YOU COWARD!" Blake screamed at Voldemort's retreating figure. "COME BACK AND FIGHT!"
But, of course, it was futile. After all, Lord Voldemort was a coward, and cowards never fought when they were weak.
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