The Dark Lord at Hogwarts is not too cold

Time began to reverse to before Cyrus did not arrive.

In an empty and cold room

Quirrell stood in front of the mirror, staring at the Mirror of Erised in front of him, Voldemort's stench and rotten voice filled his mind

"Quirrell...you see...what"

"I... saw the master... I offer the Sorcerer's Stone to the master..." he replied respectfully

However, it was only a moment for Quirrell to see himself offering the Sorcerer's Stone to the Dark Lord.

The Mirror of Erised can make people see the desire in the heart, so the previous picture only lasted for a few seconds, and Quirrell saw another:

Quirrell saw himself standing on a seat, and people in the magic world presented him with awards, and his relatives and friends sat down and applauded him. At this moment, Quirrell gained fame and friendship; confidently, he held the award , patted Cyrus' shoulder with the other hand, turned his head to look at himself outside the screen, smiled until his teeth were exposed, and kept nodding

"Yes...I see that I have gained endless honor...you have given me unlimited power..."

Quirrell played a sloppy eye and didn't tell the whole truth

"very good!"

Voldemort is confident in himself, as long as Quirrell is his master, he doesn't care what the other party does, as long as he can achieve his goal.

"Yes...but the Philosopher's Stone...how do I get it out?"

Quirrell's magic doesn't do any damage to the Mirror of Erised

"Of course...you can't get it out...it's Dumbledore's magic" and Voldemort was a little helpless, he could only seize homes and pollute other people's souls, and he couldn't use magic himself

"Harry Potter... Dumbledore will let him come... Then you find a way to kill him"

The devil exuded black air, he thought of Harry, the boy who was called the "savior" by the wizarding world, and he knew that Dumbledore would use him to deal with him

prophecy?Hehehe... Dumbledore, when I get the Sorcerer's Stone, I will tear it apart together with you and the prophecy!

Quirrell circled the magic mirror for more detailed observation, anxiously looking for a breakthrough, the Philosopher's Stone... He must get the Philosopher's Stone, only in this way can Voldemort escape from his body,

According to Cyrus's way of exploring the soul and astral body, he also touched the edge of exploring his own soul early: it is full of cracks and darkness, just like the dry and cracked earth.

And after Harry asked Neville to turn around to help Ron, he also drank the potion and walked through the black flames to the room. Unfortunately, there was only Quirrell in the room except for the Mirror of Erised that he was thinking about.

Without that person, without Snape...

"Professor Quirrell...is that you?!"

Quirrell also heard his voice at this time, and turned his head to find Harry who was a little surprised when he came in. He was a little displeased, Harry was not in his plan, something was not good

But if nothing was said at this point, Voldemort would be suspicious.

"It's me~" he said lightly, "I'm still wondering if I can see you here... Potter..."

"But I thought it was... Snape"

"Snape? Hahaha" He is no longer cheerful and laughing loudly as before, but rather gloomy and cold, "Yes, yes, of course you will suspect Snape, he is like a cat flying around Rattling old bat, with him on the sidelines...who would doubt a stammering--battering--professor?"

"But..he almost killed me"

"No, no, it was me..." Quirrell didn't care about Harry pulling out his wand, he just clapped his hands, and a chain appeared out of nowhere to tie him up, "I killed you in the Quidditch match ..."

The clever silent transfiguration spell made Harry feel the gap between him and the professor

In the original Quidditch match, Quirrell was indeed cursing Harry. Voldemort began to doubt Quirrell's loyalty, so he forced him to kill a little wizard

Quirrell could have picked a corridor where no one came, and killed a passing wizard, but he didn't do that, so he chose the crowded Quidditch

Speaking of this matter, he cursed Snape endlessly. A majestic black magic genius can't compare to his own use of black magic. Snape is really useless.

He tied Harry tightly and dragged him to the other side, "Okay, just stay here and don't disturb my search for the Philosopher's Stone... Well... there must be a key here"

Harry, on the other hand, was taken aback by the truth the other party said, and was a little confused.

"How come...Snape hates me so much, wishing I could die..."

"He really hates you...Potter" Quirrell said lazily, studying the magic circuit on the magic mirror, "Of course he hates you. In fact, your father and he were rivals when they were in Hogwarts. but he doesn't want you dead"

Of course Quirrell knew the famous Harry, but compared to Cyrus, he was like a child who accidentally survived under the death curse, and he could never see the truth of the matter thoroughly enough. He looked back at the lifeless Harry .

Just a child, how much can he do?He thought, because he was bored, he also told Harry a little secret about Snape like a chat

"Cyrus will be ashamed because of you!" Harry yelled suddenly sitting on the ground, "isn't he your favorite student! Have you ever thought about the consequences of stealing the Philosopher's Stone?"

He had a good sense of Quirrell, was liked by the students, and was knowledgeable without being mean like Snape.

Harry's cry woke up Voldemort, who was using deep sleep to reduce life consumption, Quirrell felt the squirming of the back of his head, and scolded Harry in his heart

"Favorite student? No, no, no, I will only be loyal to the great and powerful master, he is a great wizard" Quirrell started to be a bad guy again

"Great...? Master? You and..."

"Yes, the Lord Voldemort I met when I was traveling around the world." He said here, his mood was not as calm as before, and he was a little depressed. "It is he who made me understand that there is no difference between good and evil, and it is not important. , all that matters is strength, and the weak should..."

At the end of the day, he couldn't go on, the weak...he came from a weak person.

"Use him...Use that boy..."

Another voice came from Quirrell's body, making Harry feel creepy, Quirrell turned his hands to hook him, and the rope led him to the mirror

"Look at it, and tell me what you see!" Quirrell urged, and Harry looked into the magic mirror, but this time, instead of seeing the parents he wanted to see, he... looked to myself

The pale and lifeless picture of Harry smiled at him, and put a blood-red stone into his pocket. At the same time, Harry outside the mirror also felt the weight of his pocket. He was a little unbelievable.

"what did you see"

"I saw that Headmaster Dumbledore gave me a pair of woolen socks, saying that I was his relative..."

Voldemort is proficient in dementia and can feel people's emotions. Harry's panic and curiosity exposed himself

"He's lying! Quirrell, let me come face to face with him and say..."

Quirrell hesitated for a while, glanced at the door, and took off the hood. Harry's heart was almost frightened by the fact that Professor Quirrell had a face on the back of his head!

A pair of small red eyes were embedded in the dead white face, and there were no noses, only two small slits.

"Harry... as long as I have the Philosopher's Stone, I can create a body of my own... why don't you take that stone out of your pocket? Join me....Harry, or you Will die without a burial just like your parents!"

At this time, the rope on his body fell off automatically, and it was Quirrell who rubbed his thumb and index finger quietly to lift the Transfiguration Curse.

He planned to wait for Harry to run away, and then find another way to get the Philosopher's Stone. He could still use the unicorn blood for a while.

Harry rushed towards the door immediately, "Never!!"

"Don't even think about running away... ah!"

The black mist controlled Quirrell, making him hold Harry's arm tightly. Harry's forehead was in severe pain like a needle pricking a fire, and he felt that his head was about to be torn in two.

And Voldemort was not much better. The moment he touched Harry, he felt that his soul was burning in hell, and immediately gave up control of Quirrell's body.

"Go...get the Philosopher's Stone..." The voice became weak again, and a little eager, "Kill...kill him!"

Quirrell looked at his hand in pain, it was dry and red as if it had been scorched by a fire, with a few bloodstains cracked on the surface, his twisted fingers trembling due to pain

Voldemort's voice reminded him, Quirrell bowed his body, looked up at Harry, who was covering his forehead, took a deep breath, grabbed Harry with his hands again, and threw him down,

While howling in pain, Voldemort was also hissing, and the black air kept rolling over Quirrell's body, like boiling water. Harry's headache was also getting worse, and he grabbed Quirrell's hand indiscriminately. Arms, ears are the screams of Quirrell and Voldemort.

"Kill him...Kill him!!"

Quirrell held Harry with the other hand, the skin on his arm almost fell off where Harry's palm touched, and there was a burning sensation at the same time, he tremblingly picked up the wand with the other hand quasi harry

"avadake..."

The master of silent spells slowly said the name of the spell. Harry's hands were carelessly pressed on Quirrell's left cheek at this time. The severe pain made Harry lose consciousness gradually, and he couldn't notice Quirrell's horn. The fur wand glows red,

He is just subconsciously resisting now.

Of course Quirrell heard Voldemort's pain, he laughed, laughed wildly, and put his head on Harry's hand, ignoring that part of his left arm had been turned into ashes.

Because he found another way, but at a great cost,

But... he still preferred to win rather than let Voldemort out of his own draw.

"Haha...haha, haha!!"

He laughed loudly, loudly, and the tears evaporated as they flowed; Quirrell thought of Cyrus, the most admired student.

'Cyrus...thank you...thank you...all of you, Dumbledore...Voldemort...I win'

Quirrell smiled smugly, Harry's palm like a branding iron couldn't continue to cause pain to his necrotic nerves.

In the empty basement, only the two of them were lying on the ground, one unconscious and the other lifeless...