HP: Wormwood and Lightning Wood

He kept falling in complete darkness.

"Save my child..."

"West, Harry... Mom loves you..."

A mother's gentle call echoed in the darkness. Fragmented memories flickered by.

His retina reflected a thin boy wearing ill-fitting clothes, with patches of bruises on his wrists.

When West opened his eyes again, what appeared before him was Harry's messy black hair and concerned face.

"Wester! You're awake!" Harry jumped on him, shouting with delight.

"Cough... Harry, are you trying to crush your brother to death...?" West then realized that Harry was pressing his entire body against his chest, almost making him pass out.

Harry, looking guilty, helped West up. "Merlin! West, I was so worried about you."

West sat up and saw Dumbledore sitting on a stool to the side, smiling at them.

"Good afternoon, West," said Dumbledore.

"Good afternoon," West replied, then looked at Harry. "Are you alright, Harry?"

Harry's eyes suddenly reddened. "West, you can't imagine what happened..."

That day, after passing through the black flames, he unsurprisingly saw Quirrell standing there with the Mirror of Erised, which Dumbledore had "carefully kept" in front of him.

"It really is you," Harry said expressionlessly.

He and Quirrell had a verbal altercation. Then, a voice came from Quirrell's body, startling him.

Under Quirrell's threat, Harry obtained the Philosopher's Stone through the Mirror of Erised.

As he pondered how to escape, Quirrell removed his headscarf, revealing something on the back of his head—

It was a horrifying face, as pale as a corpse, with bloodshot eyes that shone with an evil light, and a nose replaced by two thin, snake-like nostrils.

Harry quickly learned from their conversation that it was Voldemort.

His emerald eyes blazed with intense hatred, his fingertips gripping his wand turning white as he struggled to suppress it.

"Hand over the magic stone, or you'll end up like your parents..." the face said viciously, "and your twin brother, I'll send him to meet you..."

"Don't even think about it!"

Harry lunged toward the door engulfed in black flames, but Quirrell grabbed his wrist tightly.

Suddenly, the scar on his forehead began to throb with excruciating pain, as if it would split his head in two.

Surprisingly, Quirrell screamed and let go, his fingers covered in blisters.

Voldemort screamed, "Grab him!"

Quirrell lunged forward, knocking Harry to the ground, and tried to choke him, but released his grip as if burned.

Harry gritted his teeth, realizing something, and preemptively grabbed Quirrell's face before Quirrell could raise his wand.

Quirrell screamed as he stood up, but Harry clung to his arm relentlessly, refusing to let go.

In a daze, besides Voldemort's furious roars, Harry also heard a voice calling him, "Harry! Harry!"

Quirrell's body turned to ashes in a few moments, and a ball of evil power flew out from the ashes and rushed towards Harry.

Harry raised his arm to cover his face, but nothing happened.

When he opened his eyes, the black mist had disappeared, and two glowing deer stood before him.

"Harry." Two deer surrounded him, calling his name softly.

The deer's illusory shadow kept changing in the white light, eventually turning into two semi-transparent human figures.

Harry's eyes widened in disbelief. "Dad, Mom..."

"Harry...my child..."

Harry finished reminiscing, a look of longing on his face, "They said they'd love us forever..."

His gaze drifted out the window, as if he could see far away through the green leaves.

"Mom and Dad... gave me a hug..." Harry murmured, "It was so warm."

In reality, he couldn't even touch them.

Lily and James held him loosely in their arms, and clear tears streamed down, passing through Harry's body and falling to the ground.

Even though they hadn't touched each other, he felt an extraordinary warmth. He could almost smell the daisy scent emanating from his mother.

West looked at Harry and gave a faint smile.

Dumbledore's gaze deepened, and he finally understood what Snape meant.

West will never become a second Tom. Because he possesses love and understands love, a ability Voldemort lacks.

Harry snapped out of his daze, looking guilty. "West, I'm so sorry. If you had gone in, you would have seen Mom and Dad."

The air seemed to thicken. West's Adam's apple bobbed; he couldn't swallow the secret any longer. "Harry, I'm sorry, there are some things I couldn't tell you."

He then told Harry about the Patronus and the Dark Curse.

The boy's pale knuckles gripped the sheets tightly, as if afraid Harry would get angry.

Harry paused for a moment, then grabbed a pillow and smashed it across West's face. "So you'd already met Mom and Dad! But you didn't tell me!"

Harry was furious, but he suddenly fell silent when he saw the crescent-shaped mark on West's arm.

"So, you've only seen Mom and Dad twice," Harry said somewhat awkwardly, resting his forehead on West's shoulder. "I've seen Mom and Dad longer than you have—if you count the Magic Mirror."

West stroked Harry's stiff hair, his eyes welling up with tears.

"We must never hate each other," Harry said.

West understood Harry's subtext.

We can never resent each other, because we are each other's only family in this world.

"Ahem," Dumbledore coughed at the opportune moment, interrupting the heartwarming scene of brotherly affection.

Harry then remembered that Dumbledore was still sitting to the side, and awkwardly sat up straight.

"By the way, the Philosopher's Stone has been destroyed, so you don't need to worry anymore," Dumbledore said with a kind smile.

"Destroyed?" Harry asked, puzzled. "But your friend—Nico Flamel—"

"Nicole and I talked to them, and it was their decision," Dumbledore said.

Harry was at a loss for words, while West didn't ask a single question from beginning to end.

Dumbledore hummed a tune merrily, smiling as he looked at West. "Do you have any questions for me, West?"

"No, sir," West replied, noticing Harry's conflicted look out of the corner of his eye. "I'll give Harry this chance to ask a question—Harry, is there anything else you'd like to ask the headmaster?"

Under Dumbledore's smiling gaze, Harry let out a sigh of relief. "So, Voldemort said he killed our mother because she desperately tried to stop him from killing me. But why did he want to kill me?"

Dumbledore let out a heavy sigh.

"I can't tell you this, at least not now—I have to wait until you're older..."

Harry knew further explanation was pointless, so he changed the subject, "Then why can't Quirrell touch me?"

"Your mother died to save you. If there's anything Voldemort didn't understand, it's love. He didn't realize that the kind of love your mother had for you would leave its mark on you."

"It's like a talisman, hidden in your skin. That's why Quirrell can't touch you, Harry—and the same goes for West."

Dumbledore looked at them and continued, "Quirok, filled with hatred, having sold his soul to Voldemort, would be tormented to encounter someone bearing such a beautiful mark."

West wiped away Harry's tears with his sleeve and gave him a hug.

Dumbledore, watching the harmonious and loving scene, popped a Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Bean into his mouth, smiled, and left.

Then Hermione, Ron, and Draco came in.

Draco sat on the edge of the bed and asked softly, "Are you alright, West?"

"Merlin's pants! You fainted all of a sudden, scaring Draco and me half to death!" Ron said with a bitter face.

Hermione's eyes were blurry with tears, and she looked like she wanted to give West a hug, but remembering that he didn't like physical contact, she restrained herself in time.

Hermione returned without incident, only to be caught red-handed by Professor Snape on night patrol, and it took her some time to explain herself.

"Professor, save them! West and the others are still here..." Hermione explained anxiously, but Snape's face immediately darkened upon hearing this, and he strode towards the fourth floor.

When Snape and Hermione arrived, Draco and Ron were trying to lift the unconscious West.

West closed his eyes in agony, his magic began to surge violently, and the air itself began to distort.

The sharp magic, like a dagger, attacked everything in the room, but became gentle the moment it touched a person.

Even so, Draco and Ron were still struggling to breathe under the immense pressure of the magic, but they still firmly supported West.

With a grim face, Snape pulled out a bottle of mana-releasing potion and forced West to drink it.

As the magic gradually subsided, he cast several more check spells on Wester to make sure he was alright before passing through the black flames and pulling Harry out, who was still crying into thin air.

Snape then hurriedly took West to the medical wing, with the four of them following behind in fear.

And so, the four of them took turns explaining what had happened outside, and only gradually quieted down when they saw that West looked like he had a headache.

I need to find a chance to thank the dean; I've troubled him again. West thought.

He was secretly pleased, because he now had another reason to meet with Snape.