Harry Potter's Cousin Dudley at Hogwarts

"Quirrell...you let...Harry Potter...run away."

After coming to the room, Voldemort didn't see Harry, and was about to go mad, his tone full of murderous intent towards Quirrell.

"Master..." Quirrell hugged his head in pain and wailed, "Master, listen to me. The potion Potter drank has no effect, and it is impossible for him to pass through the purple flame wall, ah...Master... ...he must still be in this room...Master, please let me catch him...for you!"

Quirrell begged Voldemort.

"Quirrell...don't let me...disappoint you..."

"It's... master."

The pain in his head disappeared, and now Quirrell was covered in sweat.

"Potter, I know you are still in this room. Don't hide, come out for me." Quirrell raised his wand and looked around the dark and messy room.

"[Torn apart]"

Quirrell held up his wand and waved it towards those sundries, only to see rays of light shoot out from Quirrell's wand, and the things touched by the rays of light became shattered one after another.

Seeing that the things in front of him were shattered, Harry quickly ran out from his hiding place.

"Tsk, Harry Potter, how long did I think you could hide?" Quirrell smirked at Harry maliciously.

"What have you done to Dudley?" Harry pointed his wand at Quirrell.

When he just passed through the black wall of fire, he felt the coldness in his body completely disappear.

Knowing that the effect of the medicine on his body has expired, he can only pray that Quirrell cannot pass through the black wall of fire.

But I didn't expect Quirrell to be able to pass through the firewall so easily.

But Harry should think about it, according to the parchment that was originally left on the desktop.

There was not a single bottle of potion missing on the table, which meant that Quirrell had a way to pass through the wall of fire.

"The brat you mentioned! Of course he is dead, and his death must be terrible. He was crying out in pain before he died." Quirrell said to Harry, baring his teeth.

"You...I'm going to kill you!" Harry felt a pain in his heart when he heard the news, and then he was filled with infinite anger.

"[Remove your weapon]"

"[Remove your weapon]"

"Potter, it looks like you still have to study hard." Quirrell mocked.

The two spells were shot at each other, and it turned out that Quirrell, who was obviously more magical, was more skilled.

It shows that he who was invited by Dumbledore to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts is still a little real.

It wasn't that Harry, who was only in the first grade, could handle it.

Harry was hit by the spell, and not only did the wand in his hand fly away from his hand, but he was also sent flying by inertia and hit the wall behind him.

"Grab him...Grab him for me..." Voldemort's hoarse voice sounded from the back of Quirrell's head.

"Yes, Master."

Quirrell put away his wand, walked over, bent down and reached out to grab Harry.

Harry, who hit the wall, hadn't recovered from the pain before he felt Quirrell's hand tightly grasping his wrist and lifting himself up.

"Ah!!" Harry suddenly felt the scar on his forehead aching painfully.

Feeling as if my body was about to split in two, I couldn't help shouting loudly and struggling desperately.

Then, to his surprise, Quirrell let go of his wrist.

As Quirrell let go of his hand, Harry felt the pain on his forehead instantly relieved a lot.

Harry looked at Quirrell in a daze, wondering why he let go of himself.

At this moment, Harry noticed that Quirrell was bowing his body in pain, looking at his palm in disbelief.

Following Quirrell's gaze, Harry saw blisters popping up on Quirrell's palm.

"Catch him! Catch him!" Voldemort kept yelling on the back of Quirrell's head.

Quirrell pounced forward, knocked Harry who was sitting on the ground struggling to stand up, and rode on Harry, choking Harry's neck with both hands.

After Quirrell touched his neck, the scar on Harry's forehead began to burst into sharp pain again.

Harry, whose eyes were blackened by Quirrell's pinch, heard Quirrell howling in pain.

"Ah!! My hand...Master...I can't hold him...my hand!"

Although Quirrell was still pressing Harry hard with his knee, his hand had already loosened Harry's neck.

He stared at his hands in confusion, not knowing what was wrong with him, but felt that his hands were in great pain, as if he had been put into boiling water.

"Then kill him...fool...quickly." Voldemort's harsh voice sounded.

Enduring the pain, Quirrell drew out his wand, ready to cast a fatal spell on Harry.

Harry saw Quirrell's hands that seemed to be burned by fire, and when he heard what Voldemort said, he instinctively raised his hand and grabbed Quirrell's face.

"Ah!!! Ahhhhhhh!"

Quirrell rolled off of Harry in pain, and blisters began to form on his face.

Seeing the blisters on Quirrell's face, Harry suddenly understood something.

It turned out that when the two came into contact, I would only get a headache, but Quirrell would get hurt.

He felt that this was his only hope of escape.

Harry jumped up, threw himself at Quirrell, and grabbed Quirrell's neck with both hands.

Quirrell screamed in pain, desperately trying to shake Harry off.

Harry was suffering from a severe headache that was getting worse.

He felt that his eyes were going black for a while, and his eyes could no longer see Quirrell in front of him clearly.

I could only instinctively not let go, and Quirrell's miserable screams and Voldemort's vicious growls came from my ears.

Quirrell, who was strangled by Harry, felt that his breathing was getting weaker and weaker, and his neck was burning with pain. He no longer knew how he had come to this point.

In the end, Quirrell swallowed his last breath under Harry's hand, and his body became shattered like a stone.

Harry, who was physically exhausted, was also in severe pain, and fell into a coma.

A cloud of black smoke emanated from Kilowna's crumbled corpse.

This is Voldemort possessed by Quirrell, and Quirrell turned into rubble after death, making him unable to possess it.

The cloud of smoke had eyes and mouths like a horrible black hole. It roared and saw Harry lying there unconscious.

He reached out his smoke-filled hands maliciously, ready to grab the unconscious Harry.

It's just that it tried several times, but he, who turned into smoke, couldn't touch Harry's body.

In the end, he could only roar unwillingly, pass through the fire wall, and fly away quickly.

After the fighting in the room completely subsided, Harry, who was lying on the ground, moved for some reason in his wizard robe, as if something was crawling inside.

Then I saw a little yellow paper man twisting its body and getting out from the inner pocket of Harry's wizard robe.