Chapter 53: The Unbreakable Vow

Time quickly arrived at Saturday, and Allen Finis arrived punctually at Professor Quirrell’s office.

“How have you decided, my boy?” Professor Quirrell, still hidden in shadow, asked Allen in a low voice.

“I’ve made my decision. I understand the nature of the Unbreakable Vow.” Allen gazed calmly at the shadowed figure of Professor Quirrell.

“Then what is your choice?” Professor Quirrell’s tone remained as low as ever, unchanged.

Allen hesitated, then spoke his decision: “I need greater power—I am too weak!” His voice brimmed with longing for strength.

“Good, my boy. You’ve made the right choice. Extend your hand now!” Professor Quirrell murmured from within the shadow.

Allen froze. He looked bewildered. “Isn’t an oath-taker required for an Unbreakable Vow? It’s just the two of us—where is our witness?”

“That’s not your concern. I have my methods. Make your choice now!” Professor Quirrell remained shrouded in shadow, his voice as low as before.

Allen hesitated. He wasn’t sure whether to trust Professor Quirrell. But the book said the final vow required the oath-taker’s confirmation—he’d try it. If anything seemed wrong, he’d flee immediately.

Slowly, he extended his right hand.

A dark, chilling laugh emerged from the darkness.

The next moment, the chair beneath Allen shot forward, sliding swiftly to face Professor Quirrell—knee to knee—yet Allen remained in the light, while Quirrell stayed cloaked in shadow.

The light carved a sharp boundary between them: one bright, one dark.

A pale, slender hand reached out from the darkness and gripped Allen’s right wrist tightly.

Allen felt the hand icy and slick, like holding a snake’s skin...

He forced the thought from his mind, struggling to shift his focus away from the hand.

“It begins! Prepare yourself!” Professor Quirrell commanded.

Allen quickly grasped Professor Quirrell’s right wrist.

From the darkness emerged Quirrell’s left hand, holding his wand, which swept once over their clasped hands.

A sparse web of light instantly formed around their joined wrists, binding them tightly—Allen knew this was the Unbreakable Vow taking effect. He steadied his breathing, knowing every word he spoke next must be weighed with care.

Allen strained to see Quirrell’s face in the shadow, but it was futile. Still, face-to-face, though he couldn’t read his expression, he noticed Quirrell wasn’t wearing his purple turban today.

The same low voice, now sharper, spoke: “You, Allen Finis, will you keep Quirinus Quirrell’s secret?”

Allen exhaled inwardly—this vow was far better than he’d feared—but he showed no relief, and his voice remained guarded.

“No. This vow is too broad. I need to narrow its scope!” Allen said quickly.

A cold, low snort came from the darkness.

“As you wish.”

The light web around their wrists remained unchanged. Quirrell spoke again, his voice low: “You, Allen Finis, will you keep the secret between Quirinus Quirrell and you?”

Allen’s mind raced: this vow seemed harmless. Though still broad, he had many secrets of his own.

Yet he remained uneasy.

His life was at stake—he must be cautious.

“I require you to swear an equal vow,” Allen said firmly, gazing into the darkness at Quirrell.

“You go first!” Allen added swiftly.

Quirrell fell silent. Just as Allen feared he had angered him, Quirrell spoke:

“As you wish.”

The sharp, low voice returned: “You, Quirinus Quirrell, will you keep the secret between Allen Finis and you?”

“I will!” came a young voice, tinged with reluctance.

Allen froze. Was this witness Quirrell’s cold persona? Was the vow being sworn by another personality? Did Quirrell switch between them? Could this even be done?

Allen worried the vow might bind only one personality—but then he recalled: vows acted upon the body. Multiple personalities meant nothing. Besides, this vow didn’t seem difficult for him—he was the one seeking aid. He owed a price. And Quirrell had already conceded twice. Push further, and he’d provoke him.

With this thought, Allen suppressed his urge to interrupt the ritual again.

“You, Allen Finis, will you keep the secret between Quirinus Quirrell and you?” The cold voice grew even sharper.

Allen hesitated, then carefully weighed the words again. Finding no trap, he said solemnly: “I will!”

Instantly, the light web around their wrists vanished. A cold stream surged up Allen’s arm, flowed to his heart, then disappeared—he shuddered involuntarily.

He knew the Unbreakable Vow had been successfully formed.

“There. The vow is complete. I am exhausted. Return now. Next week, I shall teach you true power!” Professor Quirrell’s voice was weary, yet his mood was clearly improved.

Allen left with uneasy steps.

Professor Quirrell’s office sank once more into silence.

Long moments passed.

The young voice returned: “Master, why did you make only such a loose vow with him? We can’t control him this way!”

The cold, sharp voice returned again, its owner letting out a chilling laugh: “Foolish! Finis is sharp—he won’t let you control him easily. Rash action will backfire.”

“The attack on Harry Potter was too hasty. Snape and Dumbledore are now wary. We must lie low for a time. This thread with Finis is even more vital!” The cold voice carried a trace of fatigue.

“Master, it’s my fault—I didn’t master the Confundus Charm well enough. That’s why Snape interfered and Potter survived!” The young voice trembled with fear.

“It’s done. Don’t speak of it again. Our ultimate goal is the Philosopher’s Stone. When I kill Potter, I am not in a hurry.”

“I made the Unbreakable Vow with Finis only to prevent him from betraying us. Before, we could ignore his words—they wouldn’t investigate a mere eleven-year-old. But now Dumbledore and the others are alert. I won’t let Finis ruin my plan!” The cold voice paused, then added:

“Besides, I still need him to do things for me. Provoking his rebellion would be unwise.”

“Master, you are wise!”