A ruined Hogwarts

Owen quickly walked along the dark and dark corridor, followed the downward stairs and entered the underground of the castle.

The cold and damp air from the underground rushed towards his face, dispelling the slight drowsiness in his mind and making his brain extremely clear-headed.

"Huh, it's so dangerous." Owen let out a long sigh of relief. The experience tonight really made his head hurt.

"No, I seem to have forgotten something." He squinted his eyes, rubbed the fingers of his right hand quickly, and then returned to the wall space in an instant.

Everything in the space was as calm as before, except for a copy of Owen standing there blankly, like a silent sculpture.

Owen's expression changed, and he stared deeply into the clone's eyes. After a moment, with the feeling of walking through a dazzling tunnel, his consciousness switched to the replica body, and the memories that were divided by him returned to his brain without any hindrance.

"So that's it." He raised his eyebrows suddenly.

Without further delay, he left the wall-facing space and returned to his body that had paused on the spot.

"It seems that he was fooled, but he didn't bind me with an oath?" Owen glanced at the long corridor behind him suspiciously, "Did Voldemort's brain really be split into seven parts by him?"

"Let me think about it... Judging from Voldemort's performance, he is really weak now. Limited by Quirrell's physical condition, he only dares to use some spells that are not burdensome. He can't even maintain Legilimency for long. , and it's not very powerful." Owen pursed his lips and analyzed, "He can't control his body for too long, and Quirrell's body is being eroded by him and is constantly weakening..."

"All in all, this is the time when Voldemort is at his weakest and most embarrassed. Of course at this time..." Owen paused, then changed direction and walked directly towards the Potions office. "Of course he will add insult to injury. I hope Professor Snape will In the office.”

Everything he had done before was just to stabilize the other party. If Voldemort asked him to make a magical oath, Owen would naturally use other methods to compromise with the other party, and then find a way to trick him to death quietly. Now that there is no oath to bind him, Irving still keeps him here for the New Year? Of course, you need to report it and then figure out a proper way to send the other person back to his hometown.

After all, Voldemort is really a helpless man. He damaged his brain by making Horcruxes, but he still enslaves his followers in a self-righteous way. There is definitely no bright future with him. If only he could live up to his expectations, Owen would not stand so firmly with Dumbledore.

Just after taking two steps, Owen suddenly felt a sharp pain on the back of his left hand. This severe pain quickly spread along his arms to his heart, and his heart seemed to be tightly strangled by a thin fishing line. The pain and suffocation enveloped him, making his whole body tremble slightly.

He staggered and held on to the wall on the side to prevent him from falling to the ground. He gasped for breath and looked down at his burning left hand. Only then did he see a strange black symbol appear on the back of his hand at some point. The pattern looked like a variant of the "V" letter, glowing with the deepest black.

"Wait, no, is this an oath? When did it happen?" Owen didn't care to think about this problem. He quickly gave up the idea of ​​reporting in his mind and strengthened his thoughts. After a long time, the punishment for almost violating the oath stopped, and the symbol on the back of the hand disappeared, as if nothing had happened.

"Okay, I take back what I just said, Voldemort's brain is not completely broken yet..." Owen breathed heavily for a while, closing his eyes and feeling the relief after the pain dissipated.

He leaned against the wall and frowned slightly, taking stock of all the previous details, and then suddenly opened his eyes: "It was when Quirrell was reciting the sound-blocking spell in the office! It seems that he also learned something from Voldemort, or maybe It was Voldemort who recited the curse at that time..." Owen thought of Quirrell's loss of strength after reciting the curse, which was probably caused by Voldemort sneaking out for a moment.

"Well..." Owen held his wand in his hand and unconsciously rotated and tossed it smoothly on his fingertips. A playful and sly smile appeared on his face for a moment: "Hey, fortunately, I'm not without one either. beware."

He had been on guard against this for a long time, so whether it was all the promises made in the Forbidden Forest or in Quirrell's office, Owen tried to ensure that they came from his own mouth and were not made by the other party for him to agree to. Those words may seem like a firm stance, but they actually leave a lot of room for oneself.

For example, Owen said, "I will help you get the Philosopher's Stone." He said "get" rather than "get", and letting them touch it counts as getting it. Besides, "help" itself is a very subjective word. Irving can help with all his strength, or he can only help a little. When to help and how to help are all up to Irving himself.

For another example, regarding Harry's issue, Owen was the first to say, "I will monitor him." It was just monitoring. As for whether to tell them the truth, and how much truth to tell, it was up to Owen himself.

"There is another oath: when the Dark Lord truly comes back, I will follow him..." Owen couldn't help but chuckle. He meant following rather than following faithfully. "Well, you can't blame me for following you around and beating your sap, but I should have broken the oath spell by then."

As long as it is not the "Unbreakable Vow", which is a highly binding magic, other oath magics have loopholes to exploit. Owen is not afraid that the other party will force him to make an unbreakable vow. After all, there is no third person here with a wand to witness for them.

"Then, the only binding oath for me now is that I cannot inform or remind others of tonight's events in any way." Owen turned around indifferently and continued walking towards the common room. This sentence came from Quirrell's mouth, and it came with strict restrictions. It was obviously impossible to get around it, but it was harmless.

"So, after this incident is over, how should I explain to Dumbledore how I fell under Quirrell's Imperius Curse?"

…

In the Defense Against the Dark Arts office, Quirrell murmured with a trembling tone: "Master...Master, you are too tolerant to him. He doubts your identity and keeps pushing and pushing. There is no sincerity at all! He should be punished punish……"

"Qi Luo, are you questioning my decision?" A cold and stern voice sounded beside him, "Or do you want to teach me how to do things?"

"Don't dare... don't dare, master!" Quirrell shook his head quickly.

"A child of the Shafiq family? It's very interesting and not simple. I didn't expect such a person to appear in the increasingly cowardly Shafiq family. The potential of pure blood is indeed endless." Voldemort's voice was very soft. With a little imperceptible recollection, "Smart, cautious, cunning, very talented, and very sober... at least much more sober than you, Quirrell."

"Master...Master, I am just loyal to you..." Quirrell sobbed.

"There is no need to say such things again. Voldemort knows everything, and you have regretted it more than once." Voldemort's tone was cold and impatient, "You can't hide your thoughts from me, Quirrell."

"I originally wanted to control him in other ways, but he made me a little interested." He continued in a whispering voice, "I want to see what he will do when he is in a desperate situation and falls into darkness. What kind of choices, what kind of potential is unleashed, haha..." His laughter was cold and teasing.

"Master, aren't you worried that he will turn against you?" Quirrell screamed, "He has no loyalty to you at all!"

"So you must hurry up and get the Philosopher's Stone, Quirrell, and don't let me down again." Voldemort hissed. As the Dark Lord who once brought endless fear to the magical world, as long as he can recover his body, he will not be afraid of anyone. At most, he is only a little afraid of Dumbledore.

"Or do you think that Voldemort in his heyday will be defeated again? Once is enough, only once...only Harry Potter..."

"No, that's not what I meant, Master..." Quirrell said tremblingly.

"I believe that Shafiq will not disappoint me. He will help me find out what kind of magic power is hidden in the Boy Who Lived." Voldemort murmured, "What is the aura of the protagonist that the fax machine mentioned? What kind of power is it? With this kind of power, you can defeat the great Dark Lord?"

Even with his extensive knowledge, he had never heard of such a talent.

Sure enough, Harry Potter is his rival!