We're back! Harry and friends set out for the Stone! In the words of some ten-year-old meme, Here go hell come!


They met at midnight in front of the door to the third-floor corridor. "So, what's the plan?" Hermione asked.

"Get the Stone, destroy it, and go to Blips n' Chips to celebrate."

"Can you be more specific?"

"I haven't fleshed it out yet."

"He always freestyles it," Morty replied.

Harry cracked open the door and peered through. "Damn, Fluffy's sitting right in front of the trapdoor."

"How are we going to get past it?" Ron asked.

Hermione smiled. "I did some research. Music will put them to sleep."

"Good thing I have this mixtape and boombox."

"How long have you had that, Harry?"

"...I don't know." He pushed the tape into the machine and hit play.

Ohhhh yeaaaah

You gotta get Schwifty

You gotta get Schwifty in here

"I love this song," Ron said.

Take off your pants and your panties

Shit on the floor.

A loud thud shook the hallway. "Looks like Fifi's out cold," Harry said as he turned the boombox off. "C'mon."

They opened the door and crept past the snoring beast. Morty opened the trapdoor and peered down. "It's too dark, someone cast a light. I want to know what's down there before I-"

"YOLO!" Harry pushed past him and, with a flawless jackknife, dove through the hatchway.

Fluffy woke up and noticed the students. Morty rubbed his face. "Fuck."

They all jumped through the trapdoor and landed on a soft bed of vines which immediately began to vore them. "Devil's Snare!" Hermione shouted.

They stopped struggling as a loud growling noise started. "Is that Fluffy?" Ron asked.

Morty shook his head. "No, it sounds like a hedge trimmer."

A second later a spinning blade cut through the Devil's Snare the base of the vines. The plant fell dead, releasing the students from its grip. "Where are you keeping all of these gadgets?" Ron asked.

"I'll explain later."

"Will you?"

"No."


The next room was a chamber of keys. Flying keys. Harry noticed a trio of broomsticks leaning against the wall. "Fuck my life."

"Don't worry, mate. I've got this," Ron cracked his knuckles and mounted one of the brooms.

Before the ginger could take off, though, a key flew into Harry's hand. "Harry looked down and noticed its wings were mangled. "Oh, wow. Lucky me."

Ron sagged and climbed off the broomstick. "What's the fucking point?"

"Maybe you'll be of some use in the next room," Hermione said.


"YES! Wizard Chess! I'll take the Queen."

"Ha, GAAAAAY!"

"Shut up, Harry."


"I forgot how much chess bores me," Harry said as he stepped over the broken queen.

"Why does it bore you?" Hermione asked as she propped an unconscious Ron against the wall.

"Too easy. Now checkers, that's a man's game!"


"Someone's been here already," Morty said as he poked the dead troll in the eye with his wand.

"No shit, Sherlock."

"Snape?" Hermione asked

"If it is, I'm gonna enjoy beating his ass."


"What...the fuck are you doing here?" Harry asked, stepping from the shadows and into the chamber.

"Surprised, P-p-p-Potter?" Quirrell smirked at the boy. "Such a clever boy, yet you hadn't a clue. All according to my plan."

"Wasn't it Dumbledore's plan?"

"No, it wasn't. Well, it was, but it was also mine. This was a parallel plan, similar yet just different enough to be notable, not that you'd understand, Potter—"

"—Sanchez."

"Shut up! Accio gadgets!"

Harry's pockets were emptied of their various contraptions. Quirrell yelped and ducked as a scanner, pistol, multi-tool, and boombox slammed into the wall behind his head and smashed into pieces. "My mixtape!" Harry's face flushed red. "You're dead, B-b-b-bitch!" He reached into his pocket for his wand and came up empty. "Shit."

"My my, did the Boy-Who-Lived forget his wand?" Quirrell laughed. "Didn't think you needed it? Muggle technology can never compete with the limitless power of magic."

"This isn't over," Harry replied, clenching his fists and standing straight. "My friends may not have been able to follow me through Snape's puzzle, but they're going for reinforcements. They're probably in McGonagall's office as we speak."

Something fluttered in Harry's other pocket.


Morty, Hermione hammered against the door to Flitwick's puzzle. "Where's that fucking key?"


"Motherfucker."

"Turn around," a voice whispered. "Let me look into his eyes."

Quirrell unwound his turban and turned around. "Gross," Harry said, staring at the twisted face grafted onto the back of the professor's head.

"Yes, it is a sad form I find myself in," Voldemort said. "But a temporary one. Once I have the Philosopher's Stone—"

"—Sorcerer's Stone, My Lord."

"—Go fuck yourself, Quirrell—once I have the Stone, I shall be returned to my full power."

"That won't happen," Harry said, dropping into a badass hero stance. "I won't let it happen!"

"You can't stop the inevitable, Potter."

"The fuck I can't! I fucked you up before I could talk, I can kill you again just as easily, and this time I'll have a great one-liner to go with it."

"I think not. Bring him to the mirror." Quirrell led Harry at wand point over to the Mirror of Erised. "This mirror is the last puzzle, the final obstacle to the Stone."

"And you haven't solved it?" Harry asked.

"I was missing the necessary component. I was missing you. Look into the mirror, boy." Harry obeyed. "What do you see?"

"I see me," Harry lied. "In a hot tub. Fucking your mother."

"You lie! I can read your mind. What do you see?"

Harry turned to Quirrell/Voldemort and grinned. "I see a portal."

Before either could stop him he ran forward and threw himself through the glass—


—and landed face-first into a plate of scrambled eggs. He had fallen through a portal above the Smith family dinner table. The entire family gave a start. "Harry!" Beth shouted. "What the hell are you doing here?"

Harry lifted his face out of his sister's plate of eggs. He rolled off the table and brushed himself down. "A good question."

A second later someone else landed on the table. "Avada Kedavra!"

Harry ducked as a blast of green light put a fist-sized hole in the drywall behind him. Voldemort was about to fire again when a chair was smashed over his back. "Fuck!" He turned the wand to Jerry, who seemed surprised by his act of heroism. Beth tacked her husband to the floor as another killing curse just missed him.

Harry grabbed Summer and pulled her into the kitchen. "Where's Rick?"

"He's in the garage. Who the fuck is that guy?"

"Some wannabe Darth Vader motherfucker."

He tore through the house to the garage and kicked open the door. "Dad!"

Rick looked up from the lab table. He had been examining a ruby red stone laid out on a square of velvet cloth. "T*ooo*k you long enough."

"Is that—"

"The Stone!" Quirrell/Voldemort shoved himself through the doorway past Harry, his mission to kill the boy momentarily forgotten. "Within our grasp, my Lord!"

"At last!" Voldemort's gleeful cackle was cut short as Quirrell's head was severed from its body and fell into Harry's hands. A spring-loaded blade concealed beside the door frame wound itself back into place.

"What do you know, the security system works," Rick said.

Harry dropped the head in disgust. "What if that had been me, Dad?"

"Well, it wasn't, so don't worry ab*ouuuuut* it."