Harry Potter and the Rebirth

Quirrell, who was correcting homework in the classroom, suddenly felt a familiar feeling, as if it was another self. The mysterious response from somewhere made him so anxious that he couldn't calm down at all.

What on earth was it? He was messing around in the castle, heard Snape's voice mocking others, heard McGonagall's harsh criticism, and walked into the library. The quiet study atmosphere made him nervous, and suddenly there was a laugh from a distance, and a stench that hit him in the face. It was the two guys from Veles fighting with Peeves, and then there was Filch's angry roar.

As Quirrell walked, he came to the Hufflepuff kitchen, a place he had heard of but never been to. He came in with a Hufflepuff student named Cedric. He had an impression of this student, who had good grades and a very handsome face.

Quirrell touched his face uncomfortably, well, just as handsome as he was, but his skin was a little rough.

Quirrell took the small cake that the elf enthusiastically stuffed into his hands, took a bite, and the sour and sweet feeling filled his taste buds, which relaxed his nervous mood. He was going to stroll in the castle, and for the first time because of this opportunity, he took a close look at the place where he had lived for many years.

It's just that the spiral staircase inside is too annoying. Quirrell stood halfway up the staircase, watching it twisting this way and that and unwilling to stay in the right place. He stomped on it hard with his feet. This almost used up all his strength, but it seemed like a tickle to the staircase.

Instead, it spun even more happily. Looking at the rotating environment and the students appearing at the entrance of the corridor, Quirrell felt that he was about to lose face. He used a spell on the ground, and then floated in the air. At the same time, he cast a transformation spell on the book of one of the lucky little wizards, turning it into a long zipline, so that it could hang on the upper floors of the castle.

After Quirrell left, the staircase obediently placed itself in the correct position, as if the rotation just now was not done by him.

The little wizards around looked at the professor who was leaping into the air with admiration. At this time, Filch chased the three troublemakers in front of him and rushed out of the corridor, wanting to go down the stairs. However, he did not expect to see the professor performing magic openly in the corridor.

Filch looked through the school rules in his memory, and there didn't seem to be a rule that professors were not allowed to use.

While he was stunned, Peeves had casually slipped into a corridor and disappeared, while the Veles twins blended into the crowd. Although their hair was conspicuous, the crowd concealed their figures. They all looked at the administrator who loved to arrest people with a common hatred.

Filch left helplessly.

Quirrell was now complaining bitterly. There seemed to be something wrong with the Transfiguration spell he had cast. The rope was not hanging at the bottom but at the top. Although he looked very cool now, he was actually not sure when he would fall from mid-air and fall upside down, and would not be able to maintain his dignity in front of the little wizard.

He reached the eighth floor safely, but the small cake in his hand fell to the ground. He looked at the lucky guy, whose red hair was covered with white cream. Hiss~ This was not done by me, you should find another victim.

Quirrell threw the book handsomely to the little wizard who was still waiting there, but the little wizard didn't appreciate it. This professor was too crazy. His next class was Professor McGonagall's, and he was almost late -

The little wizard ran away, and Quirrell thought he ran away because he was moved by his handsome figure.

When he reached the eighth floor, he felt a familiar feeling, which was one of the reasons that prompted him to leave his office and wander in the corridor.

He followed his sixth sense and slowly moved closer. As he got closer, he finally saw a rugged man. He came face to face with him and they looked at each other in bewilderment. In this strange face, he saw a familiar soul, and the throbbing from the depths of his soul slowly stabilized.

The man greeted him in a friendly manner.

Quirrell raised his hand stupidly and waved at the stranger.

Then he realized that judging from the man's age, he should not be a student. He knew all the professors, and Hogwarts did not have any activities to receive visitors recently.

"Who are you?" Quirrell raised his wand vigilantly, "I am you!"

The man smiled at him in a friendly manner, but behind the smile Quirrell saw a bloody mouth that seemed about to swallow him.

He took two steps back in fear. After all, it was the other world that gave him the confidence. How could a predator be afraid of its prey? Besides, the master was still here.

The man frowned, feeling that something was not right. Even though the man's face was Quirrell's and his soul was almost the same, it still felt different.

He moved the soul that contained Qi Luo in his body, and looked at the reaction of the other person. He stared at him with an innocent expression. No, not innocent. He raised the wand in his hand higher and higher, and the tip of the wand was pointed at his throat.

That's not right, why is there no reaction? Voldemort thought, he somehow escaped in the first place, even though a small part of his soul was lost, but it's not like he had never split before, and he also had an unexpected surprise, he found that there was actually a small part of him in Harry's body.

Just think of it as another Horcrux in storage.

When he escaped, he had inquired about the current situation of the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts, and it was still Quirrell. At first he thought that Dumbledore had sent someone to impersonate the teacher due to future teacher recruitment plans. Just now, he met Quirrell face to face, and the soul was indeed very familiar, and so was the face.

Even Legilimency didn't work on him. His own magic on the soul seemed to have no effect on this man. Voldemort secretly thought that this was not good. He had originally planned to control him first, lurk beside Harry, and -

As soon as Voldemort had the evil thought in his mind, he felt a heart-wrenching pain, it was that familiar feeling again.

Quirrell looked at the man in front of him, feeling somewhat puzzled. Suddenly, a description of the missing Muggle flashed through his mind. He also seemed so out of place, as if he was also wearing denim-type clothes.

In a flash, Quirrell took advantage of the man's change of mind and quickly imprisoned him.

The sound of magic, or perhaps the fighting instinct hidden deep in his heart, allowed Voldemort to escape the attack.

He stared angrily at the man in front of him.

The rationality in his heart told him to quickly erase this person's memory, and the burning anger in his heart told him to quickly give this person an Avada. No one had ever dared to disrespect him like this.

The split soul turned Voldemort's sanity into a pool of stagnant water and a few broken pieces of debris.