"The back of your head?" Quirrell replied softly. "No, it was my master who spoke. He has always been with me, wherever I have gone. I met him on my journey across the world. I was young and foolish, I knew nothing of good and evil. But Lord Voldemort opened my eyes-good and evil do not exist. There are only power and might, and there are those too weak to seek them."
"This is a clinic," Richard whispered, leaning over Weasley's ear. "Guys, he's crazy. It's best not to argue with crazy people. Ron, give him the stone. I don't want to see what a crazy professor comes up with."
"Richie, don't be afraid," Ron whispered, trying not to show his fear. "There are three of us. Let's get him..."
"Psycho?!" Quirrell burst into manic laughter. "Nothing of the sort!"
"Quirrell," the hissing voice came again, "take the stone!"
- Yes, sir. Right now.
Richie was deeply troubled during the conversation and tried to come up with a way out of the situation. He ran through a multitude of options in his mind, completely forgetting about the suit's useful invisibility feature. Harry and Ron had forgotten about it too. The problem was that three confused first-years were no match for a grown, experienced wizard. Harry and Ron didn't know any spells beyond those learned in their first year. Harry had learned a few useful spells before school, but they were practically useless against a wizard. It was unlikely that a wizard could be defeated with a lock-opening charm. Perhaps a Lumos blinding charm would do the trick. Richie himself was more skilled in charms, but he doubted he'd be able to draw his wand in time. The only option left was to run to the armored robotic suit and kick the deranged teacher with its steel manipulators. Wandless magic is another option, but it requires some time to build up your emotions and get into the right frame of mind for the spell. Or...
Richie glanced at the steel cylinder of the lightsaber he held in his right hand.
Or, if he got close enough to the professor, there was a chance he'd be sent to the other world. Killing someone isn't easy, psychologically speaking. Richie couldn't bring himself to do such a thing. Although, due to the peculiarities of his troubled past life, which had its share of dark spots, he wasn't afraid of killing; rather, he was wary of falling under Quirrell's spell before he could reach him.
Ron looked terrified. Harry winced in pain from his scar, but at the same time he looked angry, frightened, and determined, his face reflecting a serious thought process, as if he was devising a way to confront the teacher.
In an instant, the situation escalated. Quirrell stopped communicating and abruptly raised his wand. He unleashed a cascade of stunning spells, all unleashed silently. Red beams of Stupefy blasted from the tip of the professor's wand at incredible speed, aimed at the three boys and beyond-at times, the beams' trajectories were completely unpredictable.
Due to the unexpected transition from words to action, all three boys fell into a stupor and stared with wide eyes of horror at the stream of red rays.
Richie had already given up on life. His face was one of pure terror. Harry's eyes widened and he forgot how to breathe. Ron clutched the fake Philosopher's Stone tightly and squeezed his eyes shut.
Quirrell spent a long time casting stunning spells, his body swaying, his hand shaking, his wand twirling unpredictably. Surprisingly, not a single red beam hit its target. Even though there were only three targets, all remained motionless due to shock. Finally, the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, who was already looking rather ill, began breathing hoarsely and stopped casting. He bent over, bowed his head, rested his palms on his thighs, and tried to catch his breath, rocking like a ship in a storm.
Harry, Ron, and Richie, completely unharmed, exchanged glances. The boys took in their comrades' utterly astonished expressions: bulging eyes, pale skin, and elongated faces. They simultaneously reached for their wands.
Ron shifted the Philosopher's Stone to his left hand, or attempted to do so. Richard didn't particularly notice, as he was doing the same with his lightsaber at the same time. All three raised their wands almost simultaneously and fired spells at the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor.
- Difindo!
Weasley's wand emitted a weak cutting charm, informally known among students as the "Scissor Charm." This charm is quite easy to use to cut or tear objects. However, it is quite weak and won't cause fatal damage if safety precautions aren't followed. Therefore, wizards aren't afraid to teach this spell to children.
- Flippendo!
Potter's wand emitted a thick orange beam. He had cast a repulsion spell, which he shouldn't have known, as it's only taught in second year. It can repel a person or a fairly large animal with a powerful shove. It can easily stun something as small as a human. This spell is used by wizards primarily to break fragile objects, but it's also supposed to be used for self-defense against smaller creatures: devils, garden gnomes, pixies, and similar magical creatures. This spell is taught in Defense Against the Dark Arts classes. Ironically, Quirrell had taught this spell to second-year students, and now it was aimed at him.
Harry spared no effort. Usually, the orange beam produced by a student is barely visible. Here, it was as thick as a cat's paw.
Richard felt as if he'd suddenly forgotten how to cast magic. Well, not quite. He was proficient in two dozen different spells, able to cast them nonverbally. But under intense stress, he became flustered and confused. He couldn't immediately choose just one spell from the vast array of spells he knew. Despite this, Richie was quick on his feet, perhaps due to the mortal danger. While he was drawing his wand, he managed to mentally review all the spells he knew and settled on one.
- Immobulus!
A bluish beam shot from the tip of Rich's wand towards the professor.
Immobulus is an immobilization charm. This spell is taught in second year, but Richard had an advantage in this regard. Madam Marchbanks felt it was imperative that her charge master it. She explained that the spell had a wide range of applications. It could render a person, a dangerous animal, or a magical plant unconscious (paralyze it). It could also disable Muggle alarms or other equipment; for example, if someone hit a car, this spell would shut off the engine.
Richard, like Harry, spared no effort in his magical powers. His beam was only half as thin as Potter's. But it's worth remembering that second-year students' beams are typically the thickness of a matchstick, not the size of a baby's little finger.
And so, three spells, fired at once, rushed toward Quirrell. Although exhausted, Quirinus remained an experienced and powerful wizard. The man responded to the shouted spell names by holding his wand out in front of him.
Ron's spell sliced the turban, causing it to fall in two halves, revealing the professor's bald head. A strange, misshapen lump was visible on it, as if Quirrell had a second mutant face with slit-like nostrils on the back of his head.
Richie and Harry weren't so lucky. Despite the apparent simultaneousness, the boys' spells were actually fired with a slight delay. Just an instant before the orange and blue beams reached the professor, a translucent, convex shield, tinged with yellow, appeared before Quirrell-the protective Protego spell had been cast perfectly and silently. Two multicolored beams of light shattered against the shield, causing a flurry of sparks. The orange and blue sparks gave rise to green ones.
Richie was disappointed that he missed and was scared when he saw the furious expression on Quirrell's face.
Ron, looking at the back of Quirrell's head with disgust, exclaimed in disgust:
- Merlin! What the hell is that on your head?!
"Life has really beaten you up!" Richie looked at the back of Quirrell's head with no less disgust.
"I'm not a monster, I'm Lord Voldemort!" the formation on the back of the professor's head hissed in rage. "Kill those vile boys!" he ordered.
Richie silently fired another stunning spell. This time, the blue beam was twice as thin as the previous one. To Rich's great regret, the attempt was unsuccessful. His spell was again stopped by Quirinus's protective charms.
- Flippendo!
Harry, too, didn't lose his composure and tried again. This time, he poured all his anger, fear, and resentment into his spell. The spell was incredibly powerful-the orange beam was as thick as a grown man's forearm. The professor's Protego couldn't withstand the force and shattered in a shower of orange and yellow spray.
Quirrell's face twisted with rage. A mad glint appeared in his eyes. Richard watched in fear, as if in slow motion, as the wizard pointed his wand at him.
- Avada Kedavra!
These words were familiar to Richard. They struck an unbearable terror into his heart. His soul sank into his boots. And in this extreme moment, he began to act on the reflexes ingrained in him during long and rigorous fencing training.