"E-e-e?!" Weasley drawled, questioningly. "Where's your idea?"
Harry's expression showed that he wanted to ask the same question, but due to his natural modesty he kept silent.
"I don't even know what to say," Richard frowned with displeasure. "The shrinking charm on the mirror didn't work."
"Ah, so it was a shrinking charm..." an ironic grin adorned Ronald's face.
"Nonverbal," Richard corrected.
"Well, well," Weasley drawled, his tone full of disbelief and irony. "A first-year's nonverbal charm performed by a senior... I believe it," he added sarcastically.
"Let's pretend the charm on the mirror doesn't work," Harry interjected. "Um... Does anyone know how to transfigure pillows?"
"I know how, but..." Richard rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Lugging such a large load will be awkward. At the very least, we'll have to widen one of the openings, but..."
Rich turned toward the door, where the black flames continued to burn. The boys looked in the same direction.
"Fire," said Ron.
"Yeah, fire," Harry confirmed.
"Magical," Richie sighed sadly.
"It could damage the artifact," Ron confirmed Richard's worst thoughts.
"We'll have to cut a new hole in the wall," Potter stated. "And we'd better do it quickly, otherwise I think we're already late."
"We'll have to," Richard agreed.
He took a lightsaber out of his bag and put his wand back in the clip on his belt so that it wouldn't interfere with his use of the sword.
Richie was just about to head toward the wall with the opening when Harry's face twisted in pain. He grabbed his scar with his palm and groaned:
- S-s-s... A-a-a... How it burns!!! My head...
Unexpectedly, someone rushed through the fire and into the doorway: black robes, pale skin, dark circles under his eyes, the sharp stench of garlic stinging his eyes, a purple turban on his head. It was Professor Quirrell. His appearance left the three boys stunned.
The professor swayed violently, like a drunken sailor fresh from a long voyage. He stared in amazement at the three small figures, clad entirely in tight black robes, their faces hidden by ninja-style ski caps. But most of all, the professor's eyes widened in surprise at the sight of a pair of spacesuits and a suit of robotic armor, standing wide open against the wall.
A deathly silence fell over the hall. The boys looked at Quirrell in horror. Quirinus looked at the boys in bewilderment.
"You?!" Harry breathed out in amazement.
Quirrell smiled with relief. His face, usually convulsive, looked more normal this time.
"Harry Potter," Quirinus said with a sense of relief. "I kept wondering who I'd meet here. I wondered who the competitor was who managed to get through the traps before me? And here there are only three students."
"But shouldn't you now..." Harry glanced sideways at Richard.
"So it was you!" Quirrell's expression dawned with understanding. "That potion I inhaled... Quite original. Were you thinking of getting rid of a competitor? How long have you suspected me?"
"You suspected?" Harry asked, looking confused, wincing again in pain and clutching his scar.
"Twins..." Ron hissed under his breath, annoyed. "They can't do anything right!"
Quirrell's icy, piercing gaze fixed on Ron's hand. The teacher's eyes widened even further.
"You've found the stone!" Quirrell burst out laughing, and it wasn't his usual shaky chuckle, but a truly evil one. "First-years are trying to steal the stone!" he said delightedly. "And who? Harry Potter himself and his accomplices! You'll go far, Potter. Now give me the stone, quick!"
Weasley swallowed hard and looked at the Philosopher's Stone in his hand.
"Ron, don't," Harry said.
"Oh, Ron, give him the stone," Richard said flippantly. "Let him choke on it!"
"Yes, Ron," Quirrell said with a crooked grin on his face, "listen to your friend, give me the stone."
"Richie, what's wrong?" Potter glanced at Rich in bewilderment.
"Harry, our lives are worth more than some boulder," Richard replied. "Well, we couldn't take the stone, so what?"
"Oh-ho-ho-ho!!!" Quirrell exclaimed with delight. "Is that really Earl Rich himself?! What company!" The professor beamed with overwhelming glee. "You have quite a gang of golden boys! Now I understand where that strange armor came from," he said, casting a fleeting glance at the suits.
Suddenly, a hissing voice came from the back of Quirrell's head:
- Just knock out the boys and take the stone!
"What the hell is this?" Ron exclaimed in fear. "Professor, the back of your head is talking!"