Chapter 32 Voldemort and the Backstab
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Nan Shan Dou Xi
Satisfied that he had done everything, John re-imposed a disillusionment spell on himself.
Level 4 of the Disillusionment Curse is not inferior to the Aurors of the Ministry of Magic.
Taking out the fireproof potion and opening his mouth to drink it, John walked into the fire.
Like drinking ice water, the fireproof potion penetrated into his whole body at once.
The flames licked his body, but there was no burning sensation at all.
John continued to move forward along the flame, passed the purple flame and then reached the black flame.
He could feel the fireproof potion on his body disappearing quickly, so he quickened his pace and left the black flame before the effect disappeared.
In front of him was the last room.
At the same time, two people were already inside.
John's body tensed up when he saw the tall man.
It's Quirrell.
And it was Harry who was held hostage by Quirrell in front of the mirror.
"What's the matter with this mirror? What is its function? Help me, master!"
"Use that boy...use that boy..."
"Potter, come here!"
Quirrell seemed to be talking to himself and seemed to be asking, John walked out of the flames, his steps were light and slow.
He knew it was not a good time, Voldemort hadn't appeared yet, so he couldn't make a move.
What made John even more curious was how Quirrell survived.
I have to say that this person's life is just like Xiaoqiang's.
The breath on his body was even more sluggish, and a strong rancid smell emanated from his body.
It was as if what was in front of him was not a living person, but a corpse.
Harry was hijacked by Quirrell and came to the mirror. At this moment, Harry thought a lot.
He didn't expect that Snape, who he thought was the bad guy, was actually protecting him, and the victim he thought, Quirrell, was the real bad guy.
He wants to protect the Philosopher's Stone, but he doesn't know what to do now.
Quirrell is aggressive, and Harry stands in front of the mirror.
Harry in the mirror blinked at him and put the Philosopher's Stone in his pocket.
Only Harry knows all this, and the others don't know even if Quirrell is right next to him.
Harry started talking nonsense with his eyes open: "I saw myself shaking Dumbledore's hand, I... Fendor won the House Cup."
Quirrell was furious at not getting what he wanted.
"Go away!" Quirrell pushed Harry away, swearing and wandering in front of the mirror.
Harry stepped back, with the Philosopher's Stone in his pocket, and wanted to take advantage of it to escape.
But just before he walked five steps, he heard Quirrell's voice when he was asking and answering himself.
"He's lying!"
When Quirrell realized that he had been tricked, he became even more angry.
He was already weak because he didn't drink the blood of the unicorn. If Voldemort had no other way to continue his life, he would have died by now.
For this reason, he hated Harry so much.
Taking out his wand, Quirrell cast a spell at Harry.
Harry flew out and fell to the ground, Quirrell's face was crazy, and he said sharply: "Hand over the Philosopher's Stone!"
Harry gritted his teeth and said nothing.
"Let me talk to him, you are useless, Quirinus!"
The shrill voice spoke again.
"No! Master, I can, I can definitely get the Philosopher's Stone for you!"
Now Quirrell panicked completely, and he stammered to ask his master to give him another chance.
But Voldemort no longer trusted this subordinate and forcibly took his body away.
So weak that Quirrell couldn't beat Voldemort at all.
Under Harry's horrified gaze, Quirrell's body turned over in a strange posture.
He grasped the head with both hands and twisted it hard like a big rubber ball.
The disgusting smell became stronger, and the head wrapped in the scarf turned in front of him, and Quirrell untied it bit by bit.
Behind that head, there was actually a human face.
Harry had never seen such a hideous and horrifying face, like chalk, with glowing red eyes and two snake-like nostrils underneath.
Quirrell said frightened and weakly: "Master, give me a chance."
A disgusted expression appeared on Voldemort's face, and Quirrell was breathless.
The current body has been completely controlled by Voldemort.
Looking at the culprit who made him what he is today, he whispered as if whispering beside him: "Harry Potter..."
Harry wanted to back away, but his legs seemed to be frozen, and the wound on his forehead was stabbing.
"Look what I've become."
There was malice in Voldemort's tone, he hated too much.
The Dark Lord, who was supposed to rule the magic world, now has only shadows and steam left. He is a wandering soul, without a body, he can only board on those weak animals.
But there are some people who would be willing to let him into the body, and Quirrell is one of them.
"When I get the elixir, I'll be able to recreate my own body."
Voldemort could already see how much panic his regaining his body would throw the world into, and he felt he had everything under control.
Dumbledore was sent to the Ministry of Magic, and now there is no one who can stop Voldemort.
He held his wand, his eyes narrowed dangerously.
"Now, Harry, why don't you give me the Philosopher's Stone in your pocket?"
He is not the idiot that Quirrell is, in his heyday he was a wizard who could be on par with Dumbledore.
Naturally, this little trick couldn't be hidden from his eyes.
Raising his wand across, the invisible knife cut open Harry's pocket.
A bright red stone fell from his pocket, and Harry tried to retrieve it, but was tied up by Voldemort's deformed belt.
When Voldemort picked up the thing he was thinking about, he let out a strange smile.
Looking at Harry, the guy he hated.
Stepping on the throne of the great Dark Lord, a hypocritical liar.
He wanted to torture this child, this being called the savior by the world.
"Look at you, kid. Your parents were very brave back then. I have always admired courage."
"I killed your father first, but he would rather die than surrender, and fought bravely with me. Your mother doesn't need to die, but she will protect you with all her life. What a stupid way."
Harry only felt the scar on his forehead hurt more, and memories of his childhood seemed to flash back in his mind.
That green light, and the suffocating laughter.
"No, Voldemort, I'll beat you!" he yelled.
Voldemort sneered, and poked Harry's scar with his wand.
"Look, this scar, the lie of the savior, do you really regard yourself as the savior?"
The wand moved across the scar, making Harry howl in pain.
Voldemort's smile gradually twisted, and he also felt that his body was dying quickly.
Losing the soul of its original owner, Quirrell's body is turning into a corpse.
Voldemort raised the Philosopher's Stone over his head, and the glow from the bright red stone raised his wand to finish Harry off.
Harry's breathing became short of breath, and his eyes were fixed on Voldemort, was he really going to die like this?
"Son, is the magic left by your mother still there?"
Before doing it, Voldemort thought of the scene 12 years ago and hesitated.
He reached out and touched Harry's body, and this frail body quickly raised blisters.
With that magical presence, Voldemort could not harm Harry.
This made him very unhappy.
Voldemort regretted Quirrell's premature death.
The Philosopher's Stone was in his hand, and he knew he should leave, and take the Philosopher's Stone before Dumbledore came back.
"Don't go!"
Harry shouted angrily but to no avail, Voldemort was walking towards the door step by step right in front of his eyes.
Harry growled, feeling powerless inside.
Just when Voldemort was about to leave, John, who had been hiding all the time, made a move.
Voldemort was within arm's length of John.
At this distance, John attacked decisively.
The big sword waved a piece of silver light.
He backstabs!
Level 4 of the Disillusionment Curse is not inferior to the Aurors of the Ministry of Magic.
Taking out the fireproof potion and opening his mouth to drink it, John walked into the fire.
Like drinking ice water, the fireproof potion penetrated into his whole body at once.
The flames licked his body, but there was no burning sensation at all.
John continued to move forward along the flame, passed the purple flame and then reached the black flame.
He could feel the fireproof potion on his body disappearing quickly, so he quickened his pace and left the black flame before the effect disappeared.
In front of him was the last room.
At the same time, two people were already inside.
John's body tensed up when he saw the tall man.
It's Quirrell.
And it was Harry who was held hostage by Quirrell in front of the mirror.
"What's the matter with this mirror? What is its function? Help me, master!"
"Use that boy...use that boy..."
"Potter, come here!"
Quirrell seemed to be talking to himself and seemed to be asking, John walked out of the flames, his steps were light and slow.
He knew it was not a good time, Voldemort hadn't appeared yet, so he couldn't make a move.
What made John even more curious was how Quirrell survived.
I have to say that this person's life is just like Xiaoqiang's.
The breath on his body was even more sluggish, and a strong rancid smell emanated from his body.
It was as if what was in front of him was not a living person, but a corpse.
Harry was hijacked by Quirrell and came to the mirror. At this moment, Harry thought a lot.
He didn't expect that Snape, who he thought was the bad guy, was actually protecting him, and the victim he thought, Quirrell, was the real bad guy.
He wants to protect the Philosopher's Stone, but he doesn't know what to do now.
Quirrell is aggressive, and Harry stands in front of the mirror.
Harry in the mirror blinked at him and put the Philosopher's Stone in his pocket.
Only Harry knows all this, and the others don't know even if Quirrell is right next to him.
Harry started talking nonsense with his eyes open: "I saw myself shaking Dumbledore's hand, I... Fendor won the House Cup."
Quirrell was furious at not getting what he wanted.
"Go away!" Quirrell pushed Harry away, swearing and wandering in front of the mirror.
Harry stepped back, with the Philosopher's Stone in his pocket, and wanted to take advantage of it to escape.
But just before he walked five steps, he heard Quirrell's voice when he was asking and answering himself.
"He's lying!"
When Quirrell realized that he had been tricked, he became even more angry.
He was already weak because he didn't drink the blood of the unicorn. If Voldemort had no other way to continue his life, he would have died by now.
For this reason, he hated Harry so much.
Taking out his wand, Quirrell cast a spell at Harry.
Harry flew out and fell to the ground, Quirrell's face was crazy, and he said sharply: "Hand over the Philosopher's Stone!"
Harry gritted his teeth and said nothing.
"Let me talk to him, you are useless, Quirinus!"
The shrill voice spoke again.
"No! Master, I can, I can definitely get the Philosopher's Stone for you!"
Now Quirrell panicked completely, and he stammered to ask his master to give him another chance.
But Voldemort no longer trusted this subordinate and forcibly took his body away.
So weak that Quirrell couldn't beat Voldemort at all.
Under Harry's horrified gaze, Quirrell's body turned over in a strange posture.
He grasped the head with both hands and twisted it hard like a big rubber ball.
The disgusting smell became stronger, and the head wrapped in the scarf turned in front of him, and Quirrell untied it bit by bit.
Behind that head, there was actually a human face.
Harry had never seen such a hideous and horrifying face, like chalk, with glowing red eyes and two snake-like nostrils underneath.
Quirrell said frightened and weakly: "Master, give me a chance."
A disgusted expression appeared on Voldemort's face, and Quirrell was breathless.
The current body has been completely controlled by Voldemort.
Looking at the culprit who made him what he is today, he whispered as if whispering beside him: "Harry Potter..."
Harry wanted to back away, but his legs seemed to be frozen, and the wound on his forehead was stabbing.
"Look what I've become."
There was malice in Voldemort's tone, he hated too much.
The Dark Lord, who was supposed to rule the magic world, now has only shadows and steam left. He is a wandering soul, without a body, he can only board on those weak animals.
But there are some people who would be willing to let him into the body, and Quirrell is one of them.
"When I get the elixir, I'll be able to recreate my own body."
Voldemort could already see how much panic his regaining his body would throw the world into, and he felt he had everything under control.
Dumbledore was sent to the Ministry of Magic, and now there is no one who can stop Voldemort.
He held his wand, his eyes narrowed dangerously.
"Now, Harry, why don't you give me the Philosopher's Stone in your pocket?"
He is not the idiot that Quirrell is, in his heyday he was a wizard who could be on par with Dumbledore.
Naturally, this little trick couldn't be hidden from his eyes.
Raising his wand across, the invisible knife cut open Harry's pocket.
A bright red stone fell from his pocket, and Harry tried to retrieve it, but was tied up by Voldemort's deformed belt.
When Voldemort picked up the thing he was thinking about, he let out a strange smile.
Looking at Harry, the guy he hated.
Stepping on the throne of the great Dark Lord, a hypocritical liar.
He wanted to torture this child, this being called the savior by the world.
"Look at you, kid. Your parents were very brave back then. I have always admired courage."
"I killed your father first, but he would rather die than surrender, and fought bravely with me. Your mother doesn't need to die, but she will protect you with all her life. What a stupid way."
Harry only felt the scar on his forehead hurt more, and memories of his childhood seemed to flash back in his mind.
That green light, and the suffocating laughter.
"No, Voldemort, I'll beat you!" he yelled.
Voldemort sneered, and poked Harry's scar with his wand.
"Look, this scar, the lie of the savior, do you really regard yourself as the savior?"
The wand moved across the scar, making Harry howl in pain.
Voldemort's smile gradually twisted, and he also felt that his body was dying quickly.
Losing the soul of its original owner, Quirrell's body is turning into a corpse.
Voldemort raised the Philosopher's Stone over his head, and the glow from the bright red stone raised his wand to finish Harry off.
Harry's breathing became short of breath, and his eyes were fixed on Voldemort, was he really going to die like this?
"Son, is the magic left by your mother still there?"
Before doing it, Voldemort thought of the scene 12 years ago and hesitated.
He reached out and touched Harry's body, and this frail body quickly raised blisters.
With that magical presence, Voldemort could not harm Harry.
This made him very unhappy.
Voldemort regretted Quirrell's premature death.
The Philosopher's Stone was in his hand, and he knew he should leave, and take the Philosopher's Stone before Dumbledore came back.
"Don't go!"
Harry shouted angrily but to no avail, Voldemort was walking towards the door step by step right in front of his eyes.
Harry growled, feeling powerless inside.
Just when Voldemort was about to leave, John, who had been hiding all the time, made a move.
Voldemort was within arm's length of John.
At this distance, John attacked decisively.
The big sword waved a piece of silver light.
He backstabs!
