Chapter 94 Blood Curse
·
Yun Yin Shen
Chapter 94 Blood Curse
After coming to the front and confirming that the little wizard finally fainted, Quirrell was finally relieved.
—He couldn't stand this crazy little wizard anymore.
He took off the big purple scarf on his head and wiped his profuse sweat.
Although a smell of garlic.
"Master, this Dumbledore knows that you are at Hogwarts..." Quirrell said carefully.
At this time, Voldemort also twisted at the back of his head.
The abstract face that looked like a melting candle twisted, the two slits showed a slight red light, and the mouth was tightly closed but made a sound.
It's strangely sharp, it doesn't look like a human talking, but like an animal, such as a snake.
Abnormally cold, freezing to the core.
It sounded like there was an undisguised weakness, but it made Quirrell shudder.
"It's not important... just like I told you, Dumbledore put the Philosopher's Stone here to lure me here... Now it's only him who finds out about me first, or I get the Philosopher's Stone first... Before that, he won't act rashly and do anything to you... In contrast, I am more concerned about what happened to this little wizard in front of me..."
"Why can he see me...how can he defeat that magic-infused giant monster on Halloween...and now I have discovered a fact...an 11-year-old kid can actually turn you around...you said what did you ask these days during the time I was recovering my energy...you used the Imperius Curse or was...heh! Even just now, you still got nothing, and you can only get some useless and noisy news..."
Voldemort chuckled and said,
"It's really interesting... Don't you think so? Quirrell?...Compared to you...I admire this precocious and cunning little guy more..."
"Master, no, master..." Quirrell rambled, begging Voldemort to forgive him for his incompetence.
"Turn your head... let me take a closer look at this funny little guy?"
Voldemort ignored Quirrell's nonsense, "full of lies, slick words, not mature at this age... His heart is full of secrets, and he was able to learn Occlumency at a young age, which shows that he is talented... He doesn't trust everyone, even Dumbledore who has always insisted on a set of absurd and hypocritical ideas...
"Ha, yes, and... Quirrell, bring me his wand..."
Tremblingly, Quirrell found the black-purple wand from the McGuffin's robe that was fainted on the ground.
"The yew wood wand... the choice of the dark wizard. Compared to Gryffindor, this little wizard belongs to Slytherin... It seems that the magic hat left by the Big Four has finally broken? Maybe it's because this little guy like a fox has no wizard blood?..."
Voldemort sneered for a while, then seemed to be speaking to Quirrell, and seemed to be talking to himself.
"...Although he hasn't considered clearly what he wants, and understands what kind of position a person like him would belong to in this world...but doesn't this need the guidance of us 'forwards'?"
When Quirrell heard Voldemort's plan to recruit this little wizard, he was dumbfounded and shocked, "Master...but he's just a mudblood, without the slightest trace of wizard blood..."
"... Quirrell, Quirrell..." Voldemort's tone showed a little impatience and disappointment at this time, "I thought you no longer had that ridiculous idea under my guidance..."
"Ah!" Quirrell screamed like a mouse whose tail was trampled on, his whole body trembling, his voice became shrill and full of fear, "Master...you told me...there is no right and wrong in this world, only power, and those incompetent people who can't gain power..."
"Qiro, are you blaming me..."
"Master, ah!...Don't dare! I have never questioned you, but your humble servant needs your kind guidance again."
The voice was tense and fearful, and Quirrell almost couldn't speak because of his sharp panting.
"Okay!...Okay! It seems that you still haven't made much progress, and you are not even as good as this little wizard lying on the ground..."
Quirrell looked at the fainted McGuffin with a bit of resentment, wondering why the Dark Lord admired him so much.
Voldemort ignored his servant's thoughts and continued, "There are two kinds of people in the wizarding world, one is those who have 'real' power, and the other is the incompetent who cannot gain power... Quirrell, what do you think is real power for a wizard?"
Quirrell was suddenly asked by Voldemort, and he subconsciously answered the widely recognized truth among dark wizards.
- "Magic is power!"
"Yes! Magic is power, and powerful magic power is the real right of a wizard..."
"In the face of power, right and wrong can be reversed, and fairness and justice can be distorted...Even bloody hands and dirty hands can be forgotten... You can use names like 'freedom' and 'democracy' to grab benefits. There must be incompetent people who want to gain power, and clowns jump up and down around power, making ugly appearances... Conspiracies, tricks, planting... This is power!"
Voldemort sighed softly.
"People with wizard blood, especially those Slytherins, are a kind of power that can potentially be used around me, and power is not just blood...power is magic, and the root of my power comes from strength, from my mana, from bringing fear to other wizards who do not obey me, and giving confidence to wizards who obey me..."
"Do you understand? Quirrell..." Voldemort's voice was unspeakably cold.
Quirrell knew that the master valued the potential contained in this little wizard, and he was likely to become a powerful wizard in the future.
"But this little wizard...just a first year...he's still a Gryffindor, even a friend of Harry Potter..."
Quirrell immediately shut up, finding himself saying a name that was 'taboo' for Voldemort.
"Harry Potter... Ha... This is even better... It seems that this little wizard is not only worth in the future, even the current weight has increased..."
Quirrell was still a little reconciled to being inferior to a young wizard in Voldemort's mouth. He continued to defend, "But current talent does not represent future achievements. Even young wizards from pure-blood wizard families are mostly mediocre... And now he is still a Gryffindor. We can't guarantee that he will stand with us. How can we let a young wizard from a Muggle family join us?"
"Qirrell, don't you still understand? This little wizard learned [Brain Defense], which means that he has never distrusted anyone at Hogwarts, including our Professor Dumbledore... And after he knew our details, he didn't tell those he called 'friends'. It seems that this little wizard doesn't take this 'friendship' seriously... Don't you think this little guy is somewhat similar to us? ——Did you say so, Professor Quirrell!"
Hearing the last sentence, Professor Quirrell knew that it was Voldemort who was very dissatisfied with his rebuttal just now.
This made his body and mind fall into a tremor of fear, unable to extricate himself.
What Quirrell dreaded more than punishment was the soundless silence of his master.
—The silence in the room has been too long now.
He had no choice but to speak by himself to break the seemingly eternal atmosphere, so he suggested to Voldemort tremblingly.
"Master! Then let's cast the blood spell on the little wizard, making him one of us, and then ask us what we want to know..."
"Qiluo, this idea is somewhat useful... But it's not enough... Threats are not enough to make a person surrender. Fear and interests are the true meaning of power... Fear is unknown, and the obvious panic is just a target for people to find courage and ways to fight against it!"
"Master, you mean..."
"Cast this little wizard with a spell, don't reveal it...then wait for him to wake up, don't ask him vaguely why he can see me, and how he defeated that troll..."
"If he's as smart as he appears to be...will tell you part of the 'truth'..."
"Remember...give him a direction that is beneficial to himself and us...this little guy will automatically follow us..."
"Hiding the blood curse... At the critical moment, in case this little wizard has other thoughts... Maybe it will be useful for unexpected things..."
"Also... Try to find opportunities... Go to the Forbidden Forest to find the blood of the unicorn... Let me regain my energy so I can take the Philosopher's Stone..."
"Obey, my master..."
Quirrell wanted to say something else, but Voldemort was completely silent, so he had to start casting the blood curse as his master said.
From the drawer of his desk, he took out a palm-sized glass vial, which was filled with a slightly viscous dark brown liquid, which slightly leaked bloody red light in the sunlight.
Quirrell took out his black wand and tapped the vial. The liquid inside was divided into two parts, one part remained in the bottle, and the other part flowed out of the bottle and floated in the air under the guidance of the wand, turning into small balls.
He rolled up the sleeve of McGuffin's right hand, waved his wand, and muttered something, and a strange spell gradually sounded in the room.
Immediately, the golf ball-sized liquid ball in the air transformed into a long bloody snake a few inches long, crawling in the air, twisting its body, and came to the position of McGuffin's arm, opened its mouth, and bit the main artery of the wrist.
The speed visible to the naked eye of the little snake gradually decreased, while the blood vessels on McGuffin's arm kept bulging and beating, completely exposed from under the skin.
Quirrell looked solemn. He knew that he was running out of time. This spell must be cast when the little snake completely disappeared, otherwise such a simple thing would fail. He didn't know how to face the Dark Lord.
"Ancient blood, ouroboros, curse the body with poison!"
When Quirrell was chanting the spell, the blood in the bottle he was holding in his other hand kept shaking, as if it was about to gush out of the bottle, and the original dark brown gradually turned into a translucent blood color.
After seeing it, he didn't hesitate anymore, and quickly brought the bottle of liquid to McGuffin's mouth.
Strange things happened again. With every breath of McGuffin, the liquid in these bottles turned into extremely thin blood threads, which were connected from his mouth and nostrils like spider webs, and the liquid in the bottles disappeared quickly.
Seeing that the vial was empty and the blood line disappeared, Quirrell breathed a sigh of relief, and then stopped hesitating.Stand up and hold the wand directly to the McGuffin and read:
"Reincarnation is endless, reincarnation is endless, eternal curse!"
……
He recited this seemingly weird and penetrating spell three times in a row, and as the spell continued to reverberate in the room, the pictures of the 'Wanted Order' that were memorized on the wall after that trembled uncontrollably, almost shaking himself off the wall.
Finally a bloody ray of light from his wand hit the McGuffin.
An abnormal red light surged from McGuffin's skin that leaked out of the clothes, and gradually seemed to seep into the body.
And as the bloody snake disappeared, two small bite marks appeared on McGuffin's arm, surrounded by a small bloody snake with its tail in its mouth, entangled and connected to form an infinity symbol (8).
After the little snake swam around under the skin, it slowly faded away on McGuffin's arm.
Quirrell tidied up his surroundings at this time, knowing that it was time to wake up this cunning little wizard and have a showdown with him.
"McGuffin Albert! How long are you going to sleep!" Quirrell's cold voice woke up McGuffin from his coma.
When McGuffin woke up, he felt a strange taste in his mouth, astringent, like...
When he clicked his mouth, he wanted to feel carefully what it was.
Quirrell shouted, "Albert! Halloween, what did you see next to the troll that night, why did you see it, and why did you defeat that troll? As long as you can answer my three questions, you can go! If you still cheat and deceive me like before...I will let you know why I was hired by Dumbledore as a professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts!"
He interrupted McGuffin's contemplation loudly, and then with an ominous look on his face, he threatened with extreme anger.
McGuffin saw that this Professor Quirrell was very different from the one just now, and it seemed that he had 'obtained the truth' from his master Voldemort.
It seems that they can only try to pick some 'truths' that they think they can know to deal with, see if they can delay the end of the first grade, and wait for Harry to clean up this guy's 'strategy' under the arrangement of the old bee.
"I saw a black mist floating above the giant monster's head. I really don't know why I can see it."
"The troll was cast by me and Harry together, but it fused and mutated in mid-air and knocked it into the air... As for why it was able to defeat the troll, I really don't know. Dumbledore seemed to know something, forbidding us to use magic, and then confiscating our wands for three days... As for other related things, I really don't know..."
Seeing that McGuffin asked all the questions like this, and said all the answers in one breath like a pick, this won Quirrell's trust again.
After he asked McGuffin again in detail about how to defeat the troll on Halloween, he fell into deep thought.
McGuffin saw that the question had already been asked, and the two sides were almost half exposed, and they both understood each other's bottom line (Quirrell would definitely not let McGuffin hang up in this office or something happened, otherwise he would have forgotten the curse and turned himself into a fool, or used the piercing question just now when McGuffin could irritate and test the bottom line)
So he pretended that a dead pig is not afraid of boiling water, and urged Dodge Luo impatiently.
"Professor! I can go now!"
After hearing these words, Professor Quirrell popped three "well" veins on his forehead.
Thank you for your support!
(End of this chapter)
After coming to the front and confirming that the little wizard finally fainted, Quirrell was finally relieved.
—He couldn't stand this crazy little wizard anymore.
He took off the big purple scarf on his head and wiped his profuse sweat.
Although a smell of garlic.
"Master, this Dumbledore knows that you are at Hogwarts..." Quirrell said carefully.
At this time, Voldemort also twisted at the back of his head.
The abstract face that looked like a melting candle twisted, the two slits showed a slight red light, and the mouth was tightly closed but made a sound.
It's strangely sharp, it doesn't look like a human talking, but like an animal, such as a snake.
Abnormally cold, freezing to the core.
It sounded like there was an undisguised weakness, but it made Quirrell shudder.
"It's not important... just like I told you, Dumbledore put the Philosopher's Stone here to lure me here... Now it's only him who finds out about me first, or I get the Philosopher's Stone first... Before that, he won't act rashly and do anything to you... In contrast, I am more concerned about what happened to this little wizard in front of me..."
"Why can he see me...how can he defeat that magic-infused giant monster on Halloween...and now I have discovered a fact...an 11-year-old kid can actually turn you around...you said what did you ask these days during the time I was recovering my energy...you used the Imperius Curse or was...heh! Even just now, you still got nothing, and you can only get some useless and noisy news..."
Voldemort chuckled and said,
"It's really interesting... Don't you think so? Quirrell?...Compared to you...I admire this precocious and cunning little guy more..."
"Master, no, master..." Quirrell rambled, begging Voldemort to forgive him for his incompetence.
"Turn your head... let me take a closer look at this funny little guy?"
Voldemort ignored Quirrell's nonsense, "full of lies, slick words, not mature at this age... His heart is full of secrets, and he was able to learn Occlumency at a young age, which shows that he is talented... He doesn't trust everyone, even Dumbledore who has always insisted on a set of absurd and hypocritical ideas...
"Ha, yes, and... Quirrell, bring me his wand..."
Tremblingly, Quirrell found the black-purple wand from the McGuffin's robe that was fainted on the ground.
"The yew wood wand... the choice of the dark wizard. Compared to Gryffindor, this little wizard belongs to Slytherin... It seems that the magic hat left by the Big Four has finally broken? Maybe it's because this little guy like a fox has no wizard blood?..."
Voldemort sneered for a while, then seemed to be speaking to Quirrell, and seemed to be talking to himself.
"...Although he hasn't considered clearly what he wants, and understands what kind of position a person like him would belong to in this world...but doesn't this need the guidance of us 'forwards'?"
When Quirrell heard Voldemort's plan to recruit this little wizard, he was dumbfounded and shocked, "Master...but he's just a mudblood, without the slightest trace of wizard blood..."
"... Quirrell, Quirrell..." Voldemort's tone showed a little impatience and disappointment at this time, "I thought you no longer had that ridiculous idea under my guidance..."
"Ah!" Quirrell screamed like a mouse whose tail was trampled on, his whole body trembling, his voice became shrill and full of fear, "Master...you told me...there is no right and wrong in this world, only power, and those incompetent people who can't gain power..."
"Qiro, are you blaming me..."
"Master, ah!...Don't dare! I have never questioned you, but your humble servant needs your kind guidance again."
The voice was tense and fearful, and Quirrell almost couldn't speak because of his sharp panting.
"Okay!...Okay! It seems that you still haven't made much progress, and you are not even as good as this little wizard lying on the ground..."
Quirrell looked at the fainted McGuffin with a bit of resentment, wondering why the Dark Lord admired him so much.
Voldemort ignored his servant's thoughts and continued, "There are two kinds of people in the wizarding world, one is those who have 'real' power, and the other is the incompetent who cannot gain power... Quirrell, what do you think is real power for a wizard?"
Quirrell was suddenly asked by Voldemort, and he subconsciously answered the widely recognized truth among dark wizards.
- "Magic is power!"
"Yes! Magic is power, and powerful magic power is the real right of a wizard..."
"In the face of power, right and wrong can be reversed, and fairness and justice can be distorted...Even bloody hands and dirty hands can be forgotten... You can use names like 'freedom' and 'democracy' to grab benefits. There must be incompetent people who want to gain power, and clowns jump up and down around power, making ugly appearances... Conspiracies, tricks, planting... This is power!"
Voldemort sighed softly.
"People with wizard blood, especially those Slytherins, are a kind of power that can potentially be used around me, and power is not just blood...power is magic, and the root of my power comes from strength, from my mana, from bringing fear to other wizards who do not obey me, and giving confidence to wizards who obey me..."
"Do you understand? Quirrell..." Voldemort's voice was unspeakably cold.
Quirrell knew that the master valued the potential contained in this little wizard, and he was likely to become a powerful wizard in the future.
"But this little wizard...just a first year...he's still a Gryffindor, even a friend of Harry Potter..."
Quirrell immediately shut up, finding himself saying a name that was 'taboo' for Voldemort.
"Harry Potter... Ha... This is even better... It seems that this little wizard is not only worth in the future, even the current weight has increased..."
Quirrell was still a little reconciled to being inferior to a young wizard in Voldemort's mouth. He continued to defend, "But current talent does not represent future achievements. Even young wizards from pure-blood wizard families are mostly mediocre... And now he is still a Gryffindor. We can't guarantee that he will stand with us. How can we let a young wizard from a Muggle family join us?"
"Qirrell, don't you still understand? This little wizard learned [Brain Defense], which means that he has never distrusted anyone at Hogwarts, including our Professor Dumbledore... And after he knew our details, he didn't tell those he called 'friends'. It seems that this little wizard doesn't take this 'friendship' seriously... Don't you think this little guy is somewhat similar to us? ——Did you say so, Professor Quirrell!"
Hearing the last sentence, Professor Quirrell knew that it was Voldemort who was very dissatisfied with his rebuttal just now.
This made his body and mind fall into a tremor of fear, unable to extricate himself.
What Quirrell dreaded more than punishment was the soundless silence of his master.
—The silence in the room has been too long now.
He had no choice but to speak by himself to break the seemingly eternal atmosphere, so he suggested to Voldemort tremblingly.
"Master! Then let's cast the blood spell on the little wizard, making him one of us, and then ask us what we want to know..."
"Qiluo, this idea is somewhat useful... But it's not enough... Threats are not enough to make a person surrender. Fear and interests are the true meaning of power... Fear is unknown, and the obvious panic is just a target for people to find courage and ways to fight against it!"
"Master, you mean..."
"Cast this little wizard with a spell, don't reveal it...then wait for him to wake up, don't ask him vaguely why he can see me, and how he defeated that troll..."
"If he's as smart as he appears to be...will tell you part of the 'truth'..."
"Remember...give him a direction that is beneficial to himself and us...this little guy will automatically follow us..."
"Hiding the blood curse... At the critical moment, in case this little wizard has other thoughts... Maybe it will be useful for unexpected things..."
"Also... Try to find opportunities... Go to the Forbidden Forest to find the blood of the unicorn... Let me regain my energy so I can take the Philosopher's Stone..."
"Obey, my master..."
Quirrell wanted to say something else, but Voldemort was completely silent, so he had to start casting the blood curse as his master said.
From the drawer of his desk, he took out a palm-sized glass vial, which was filled with a slightly viscous dark brown liquid, which slightly leaked bloody red light in the sunlight.
Quirrell took out his black wand and tapped the vial. The liquid inside was divided into two parts, one part remained in the bottle, and the other part flowed out of the bottle and floated in the air under the guidance of the wand, turning into small balls.
He rolled up the sleeve of McGuffin's right hand, waved his wand, and muttered something, and a strange spell gradually sounded in the room.
Immediately, the golf ball-sized liquid ball in the air transformed into a long bloody snake a few inches long, crawling in the air, twisting its body, and came to the position of McGuffin's arm, opened its mouth, and bit the main artery of the wrist.
The speed visible to the naked eye of the little snake gradually decreased, while the blood vessels on McGuffin's arm kept bulging and beating, completely exposed from under the skin.
Quirrell looked solemn. He knew that he was running out of time. This spell must be cast when the little snake completely disappeared, otherwise such a simple thing would fail. He didn't know how to face the Dark Lord.
"Ancient blood, ouroboros, curse the body with poison!"
When Quirrell was chanting the spell, the blood in the bottle he was holding in his other hand kept shaking, as if it was about to gush out of the bottle, and the original dark brown gradually turned into a translucent blood color.
After seeing it, he didn't hesitate anymore, and quickly brought the bottle of liquid to McGuffin's mouth.
Strange things happened again. With every breath of McGuffin, the liquid in these bottles turned into extremely thin blood threads, which were connected from his mouth and nostrils like spider webs, and the liquid in the bottles disappeared quickly.
Seeing that the vial was empty and the blood line disappeared, Quirrell breathed a sigh of relief, and then stopped hesitating.Stand up and hold the wand directly to the McGuffin and read:
"Reincarnation is endless, reincarnation is endless, eternal curse!"
……
He recited this seemingly weird and penetrating spell three times in a row, and as the spell continued to reverberate in the room, the pictures of the 'Wanted Order' that were memorized on the wall after that trembled uncontrollably, almost shaking himself off the wall.
Finally a bloody ray of light from his wand hit the McGuffin.
An abnormal red light surged from McGuffin's skin that leaked out of the clothes, and gradually seemed to seep into the body.
And as the bloody snake disappeared, two small bite marks appeared on McGuffin's arm, surrounded by a small bloody snake with its tail in its mouth, entangled and connected to form an infinity symbol (8).
After the little snake swam around under the skin, it slowly faded away on McGuffin's arm.
Quirrell tidied up his surroundings at this time, knowing that it was time to wake up this cunning little wizard and have a showdown with him.
"McGuffin Albert! How long are you going to sleep!" Quirrell's cold voice woke up McGuffin from his coma.
When McGuffin woke up, he felt a strange taste in his mouth, astringent, like...
When he clicked his mouth, he wanted to feel carefully what it was.
Quirrell shouted, "Albert! Halloween, what did you see next to the troll that night, why did you see it, and why did you defeat that troll? As long as you can answer my three questions, you can go! If you still cheat and deceive me like before...I will let you know why I was hired by Dumbledore as a professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts!"
He interrupted McGuffin's contemplation loudly, and then with an ominous look on his face, he threatened with extreme anger.
McGuffin saw that this Professor Quirrell was very different from the one just now, and it seemed that he had 'obtained the truth' from his master Voldemort.
It seems that they can only try to pick some 'truths' that they think they can know to deal with, see if they can delay the end of the first grade, and wait for Harry to clean up this guy's 'strategy' under the arrangement of the old bee.
"I saw a black mist floating above the giant monster's head. I really don't know why I can see it."
"The troll was cast by me and Harry together, but it fused and mutated in mid-air and knocked it into the air... As for why it was able to defeat the troll, I really don't know. Dumbledore seemed to know something, forbidding us to use magic, and then confiscating our wands for three days... As for other related things, I really don't know..."
Seeing that McGuffin asked all the questions like this, and said all the answers in one breath like a pick, this won Quirrell's trust again.
After he asked McGuffin again in detail about how to defeat the troll on Halloween, he fell into deep thought.
McGuffin saw that the question had already been asked, and the two sides were almost half exposed, and they both understood each other's bottom line (Quirrell would definitely not let McGuffin hang up in this office or something happened, otherwise he would have forgotten the curse and turned himself into a fool, or used the piercing question just now when McGuffin could irritate and test the bottom line)
So he pretended that a dead pig is not afraid of boiling water, and urged Dodge Luo impatiently.
"Professor! I can go now!"
After hearing these words, Professor Quirrell popped three "well" veins on his forehead.
Thank you for your support!
(End of this chapter)
