Hogwarts Advanced Guide

Chapter 94 The Two-Faced Man Quilo

"I have seen the Philosopher's Stone. I am offering it to my master. But where is it hidden?"

Quirrell turned back from behind the mirror, staring greedily into it.

Harry tried desperately to break free from the ropes that bound him, but they became tighter and tighter.

Heran pursed his lips, a little unclear why Dumbledore didn't make a move. If this situation continues, even if Quirrell doesn't make a move, Harry will suffocate to death.

This... is probably the most embarrassing way to die for the savior, right?

However, Dumbledore was still as steady as Mount Tai, and had no intention of stopping it at all.

It is probably to let Harry experience the feeling of dying, and then turn the tide like a god descending into the world-he has always done this, such as the confrontation with Grindelwald in 1945.

Dumbledore is clearly quite good at commanding the admiration of the world.

Shrugging indifferently, Hera stood aside quietly with her arms folded. Anyway, Dumbledore was waiting for the sky to fall. If Harry really died, then...
Then run away, at worst go to North America, anyway, Voldemort is only an 'England village head', so can he still control North America?

The magic of England, beheading my wizards of North America?
What a great posture!
But Harry was obviously not as stupid and hopeless as Hera imagined, at least he knew that he had to do something right now.

If he didn't do anything else, he would really be strangled to death!
"But Snape always seemed to hate me so much."

"Oh, he does hate you," Quirrell said casually. "God, of course he hates you. Don't you know that he went to Hogwarts with your father? They hated each other, and they hated each other. But he never wanted you dead."

Hera curled her lips and found a comfortable position to lean against the wall. The cold underground made him feel a bit chilly. It was July weather now, and he only wore a pair of underwear inside his cloak.

"But I heard you crying a few days ago - I thought Snape was threatening you."

For the first time tonight a tremor of fear flashed across Quirrell's face.

Hera was so bored that she almost wanted to yawn. Even though she squinted in the corridor for a while, the quality of sleep was still not good enough. Anyway, it was not as comfortable as the super soft bed in his office.

"Sometimes," said Quirrell, "I find it difficult to obey my master—he is a great wizard, and I am so weak—"

Harry's jaw almost dropped in surprise, and he even forgot to struggle, but thanks to this, the rope around him no longer tightened, "Did you mean that he was the one who was with you in the classroom at that time?"

"Wherever I go, he is with me," Quirrell said calmly. "I met him when I was traveling around the world, when I was a fool."

Hearing what Quirrell said, if it wasn't for the current environment, Hera would have wanted to directly lift up her cloak handsomely to cover half of her face, and said coldly like a villain, "Yes, I am a traitor. I told the great Professor Dumbledore all the time."

Just when Hera was looking forward to it, he felt a powerful arm on his chest - Dumbledore stopped him.

Hera rolled her eyes and complained, I just thought about it casually, why are you so excited!
Quirrell's voice gradually became inaudible, and Harry stopped talking, as if lost in thought, probably regretting that he hadn't noticed Quirrell's abnormality?
But with his IQ, isn't it reasonable that he didn't find out?

Quirrell's attention was placed on the Mirror of Erised again. He circled the mirror several times, cursing in a low voice.

"I wonder if the Philosopher's Stone is hidden in the mirror? Should I break the mirror?"

The corner of Hera's mouth began to twitch wildly again. If it wasn't for Dumbledore's hand still blocking him, he would have pulled out his wand and said directly to Quirrell, 'Avada gnaws a big melon', that's the Mirror of Erised! ! !
Why are you so ignorant of housekeeping?
It's really not in charge of the family, I don't know that firewood, rice, oil and salt are expensive!

Bang!
Harry fell to the ground like a caterpillar, but no one cared. Quirrell still looked nervous and said to himself: "What's the matter with this mirror? What's the function of it? Help me, master!"

Then, amidst the (not) panic of the three, another voice from Quirrell himself answered.

"Use that boy.Use that boy"

A wizard as powerful as Voldemort can't escape the fate of a repeater.

Hera pursed her lips and lowered her head, not even daring to look directly at Voldemort for fear that Voldemort would discover his existence.

Quirrell turned to Harry when he heard Voldemort's voice, "Okay—Potter—come up here."

He clapped his hands lightly, and the ropes that bound Harry loosened automatically, and Harry stood up slowly.

To be honest, Hera was puzzled, what did Harry stand up for?
To die with honor?

Can't you quickly hide behind the bunker with a sliding shovel?

Oh, no cover, forget it.

It's not bad to die standing up, at least the body is still straight, and it won't cause trouble to others when it is buried.

"Come here," continued Quirrell, "look yourself in the mirror, and tell me what you see."

Harry stuttered and walked towards him.

Hera could obviously feel some changes in the surrounding aura at this moment, but probably only he who was next to Dumbledore could feel it.

Dumbledore, he was in a hurry.

Harry stood in front of the mirror, looking in the mirror, Quirrell moved behind him, and his hood was facing Hera's direction.

Hera closed her eyes, tried to calm her breathing, and tried to think of something happy.

The nearly three thousand gold Galleons I just earned some time ago, the luxurious life I am about to get.
It's just that the harder he tried to clear his mind, the harder it was for him to divert his attention from the scene in front of him.

Then, Hera heard a chuckle, which was imperceptible.

It's Dumbledore.

His plan worked?
Hera didn't dare to open her eyes to see, but just listened hard with her ears up.

"How?" Quirrell asked impatiently. "What did you see?"

Harry worked up his courage.

"I saw myself shaking Dumbledore's hand. I - I won the House Cup for Gryffindor."

Well, he was talking nonsense, and everyone present could clearly hear it.

Quirrell started cursing again.

"Go away!" he said.

Harry stepped aside, but his look of letting out a long sigh of relief was too quick to notice, probably the brainless Quirrell could not notice it.

Voldemort's shrill voice sounded.
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(End of this chapter)