HP When Harry is a Genius

Harry saw the black flames licking at his body, but he felt nothing - for a split second he could see nothing but the black flames.

Then, he came to the other side smoothly and entered the last room.

Quirrell stood in the room, smiled happily, and now his face didn't twitch at all, and he didn't stammer, he said calmly, "I was just wondering if I would meet you here, Potter .”

"So, it was you, Professor Quirrell, I guessed right? You attacked me on Quidditch, and you killed the unicorn to drink its blood in the Forbidden Forest." Harry also said calmly.

"You're very smart, Potter, I didn't expect you to notice me so early." Quirrell laughed, and this laughter was not his usual shrill trill, but a chilling sneer. "I thought you'd suspect Snape, he's flying around like a giant giant bat and being hard on you. With him in there, I thought you wouldn't suspect poor, knot-knot-knot Where's the stuttering Professor Quirrell?" Quirrell performed exaggeratedly.

Harry just smiled and said nothing.

"You seem to be more capable than I imagined, Potter. During that Quidditch match, although Snape had been reciting a counter-curse by the side, trying to save your life, but relying on Snape alone, logically I've killed you a long time ago. I noticed that you were casting spells yourself, and finally broke my jinx. First-year students can do such advanced spells, Potter, you are very talented." Quirrell said appreciatively.

"But!" Quirrell said in a vicious tone, "However, all this is a waste of time. No matter what, I must kill you tonight!"

Quirrell snapped his fingers.

It was too late to say it, but a few ropes jumped out of nowhere and tied Harry tightly.

"You're too nosy to let you live in the world, Potter. On Halloween, you were wandering around the school, and I knew at that time that you saw me check the mechanism of the Philosopher's Stone." Quirrell said .

"You let that troll in?" Harry asked in a positive tone.

"Of course it was me. I have a special way of dealing with trolls - you must have seen how I taught that guy in that room over there. Unfortunately, when everyone was hurrying around looking for trolls At that time, Snape, who had already been suspicious of me, rushed directly to the fourth floor, trying to stop me." Quirrell said regretfully, "Not only did my troll not kill you, even the big three-headed dog Didn't bite off Snape's leg either."

"Okay, wait quietly, Potter. I need to take a closer look at this interesting mirror." Quirrell turned around.

Only then did Harry see something standing behind Quirrell, and the corners of his mouth twitched uncontrollably. Behind Quirrell was the Mirror of Erised!

"This mirror is the key to the Philosopher's Stone," Quirrell murmured, knocking along the surrounding mirror frame. "Only Dumbledore can come up with something like this, but he's in London right now, and by the time he comes back, I'll be far away."

"I saw you in the Forbidden Forest with Professor Snape -" Harry said abruptly.

"That's right," said Quirrell lazily, turning to look behind the magic mirror. "He'd been eyeing me then, wanting to know how far I'd gotten. He'd been suspicious of me. He wanted to frighten me." I—actually, how can he scare me, I have the Dark Lord as my backer."

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

"I saw the Philosopher's Stone...I'm dedicating it to my master...but where is it hidden?" Quirrell seemed to be in a hallucination.

"I heard you crying in an empty classroom a few days ago and thought it was Snape threatening you," Harry continued.

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

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

"Are you saying that he was in the classroom with you?" Harry asked in surprise.

"He was with me wherever I went," said Quirrell quietly. "I met him when I was traveling the world. I was a foolish lad with a ridiculous sense of right and wrong. It was my king who pointed out my mistakes. There is no right and wrong in the world, only power, and those incompetent people who cannot gain power. Since then, I have served him faithfully, but I He's also been disappointed many times. He's always been very tough on me."

Quirrell shuddered suddenly. "He never forgives my mistakes easily. He was very upset when I failed to steal the Philosopher's Stone from Gringotts. He punished me and decided to monitor me more closely from now on." .”

Quirrell's voice gradually became inaudible.

Harry recalled going to Diagon Alley with Snape before school started - Quirrell was there, trying to strike up a conversation with them in the Leaky Cauldron, but Snape turned him away.

Quirrell cursed in a low voice: "Where? Where? Damn, why can't I find it?!"

Harry's mind was spinning quickly: "The Mirror of Erised reflects what people desire most. Dumbledore should have cast a spell on the mirror so that people can find the Philosopher's Stone through that mirror. Maybe that spell It's likely that Quirrell can't find the Philosopher's Stone, and at the same time I can find it through the mirror."

"I have to think of a way quickly, hurry up," Harry thought quickly, "so what I want most now is for Bigelow to find the Philosopher's Stone first and keep it. Then, if I take a look at the magic mirror, I will Should see that I found the stone. That means—I can see where the stone is hidden!"

"What's the matter with this mirror? What's the function of it? Help me, master!" Quirrell murmured in pain.

Harry was surprised to hear a voice answering him, a voice that seemed to come from Quirrell himself: "Use that boy... use that boy..."

Quirrell turned to Harry: "Okay, Potter, come here."

He clapped his hands again, and the ropes that bound Harry loosened automatically.

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

Harry walked towards him.

"I must find the Philosopher's Stone before Quirrell," he thought desperately, "I must first look in the mirror, find out where the Philosopher's Stone is, and then make up a lie to lie to Quirrell, and that's it!"

Quirrell moved up behind him.

Harry caught a strange smell that seemed to come from the scarf on Quirrell's head.

Harry closed his eyes, stood in front of the magic mirror, and then opened them.

When he saw himself in the mirror, he was pale and frightened at first, but after a while, he showed a happy smile.

Harry in the mirror happily reached into his pocket and took out a bright red stone, then blinked and put the stone back into his pocket.

At this moment, Harry felt that something heavy had really fallen into his pocket—he actually got the Sorcerer's Stone just like that!

Damn Dumbledore!

Harry was so angry that his teeth were itching, he just wanted to find the location of the Philosopher's Stone first, and he didn't want to get into trouble so soon!

What's next?

Quirrell would surely find the Philosopher's Stone in his pocket.

He's only in first grade, first grade!

Damn Dumbledore could really push his little wizard boy to the end without mercy.

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

Harry babbled, "I saw myself shaking Dumbledore's hand," he made up, "I won the House Cup for Gryffindor."

Quirrell started swearing again. "Go away," he said.

Harry stepped back, feeling the Philosopher's Stone against his thigh.

Would he dare to run away with it now?

But he had barely gone five steps when he heard a shrill voice speak, and Quirrell's lips did not move at all.

"He's lying...he's lying..."

"Potter, come back here!" cried Quirrell. "Tell me the truth! What did you see?"

The shrill voice spoke again.

"Let me talk to him... face to face..."

"Master, your strength hasn't recovered yet!" Quirrell said nervously.

"This little strength...I still have..."

Harry was surprised to see Quirrell lift his hand and remove the scarf from his head.

"What's going on?" Harry exclaimed.

The big scarf fell, and Quirrell's bare head looked surprisingly small.Then, he slowly turned around.

Harry suddenly felt very sick in his stomach.

Where the back of Quirrell's head should have been, there was a face. Harry had never seen such a hideous and terrifying face. The color of that face was as dead white as chalk. Two slender nostrils like snakes.

"Harry Potter..." the face whispered.

"Look what I've become!" he said, "only shadow and vapor... I can only have form if I share a body with others... But there are always people who will let me enter them heart and mind...the unicorn disc has restored some of my strength for the past few weeks...the day you saw Quirrell drink blood for me in the forest...once I get the elixir, I to be able to recreate my own body... well, why don't you give me the Philosopher's Stone in your pocket?"

"Is I half a copper Knut what you become?" said Harry sarcastically, taking two steps back.

"Don't be a fool!" said the face viciously, "You better save your own life and take refuge in me...or you will end up like your parents...they begged me to spare their lives before they died ..."

"Lie!" Harry yelled sharply.

Quirrell stepped back towards Harry, allowing Voldemort to still stare at Harry.

Now there was a grin on that wicked face.

"How touching..." He said in a hoarse voice, "I have always admired courage... Yes, son, your parents were very brave... I killed your father first, but he would rather die than surrender, bravely Fight with me.. Your mother didn't have to die.. She tried her best to protect you.. Now, give me the Philosopher's Stone, and don't let your mother die for you in vain—ah! How dare you!"

"Shenfengwusha!" When Voldemort was still trying to impress Harry with words, Harry quickly raised his wand, and he uttered the extremely offensive black magic spell invented by Snape loudly .

Quirrell's chest, arms and legs were full of blood, as if he had been slashed by an invisible sword. He staggered back and fell to the ground with a plop.

Harry yelled again the moment he fell, "Disarm! Quirrell's wand is coming!"

Quirrell's wand swiped out of his hand and flew straight to be held firmly in Harry's hand.

"Potter! You, how dare you—" the voice shrieked.

"Ah, master, it hurts so much, help me, master—" a low voice.

Harry watched Quirrell twitching on the ground in pain, his blood kept gushing out, and there were two completely different sounds from his body.

Harry smiled indifferently, pointed at Quirrell again and waved his wand: "Permanently stick!"

Quirrell was so glued to the ground that he couldn't even twitch.

"You are very good at deceiving people, but unfortunately, you can't deceive me." Harry said softly.

"Potter—you devil!" Quirrell yelled heart-piercingly, his deep voice was like a razor.

"A real demon is possessing you." Harry smiled coldly, then put Quirrell's wand in half into his pocket, and turned to the door burning with black flames without looking back.

The author has something to say: Harry: The villain always dies because of talking too much. If it were me, I would just grab it instead!

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Shadowless is a black magic spell invented by Snape before he was 15 years old, written in the potions book of the Half-Blood Prince.He invented this spell to deal with Harry's father...

The spell does not show any visible signs (beams, sparks, threads of light, etc.) when it is cast—except that the victim is injured.It is a form of dark magic that is stealthy, malevolent, yet powerful and effective.

*So Shen Feng Wu Ying is more suitable to use the silent spell to read unexpectedly, but in fact, Harry has a lot of cards here, he not only knows Shen Feng Wu Ying, but also the three unforgivable curses, let Draco and the others shout helper.Therefore, he chose to chant the spell out loud happily.Because it's cooler~

*Professor he's a, real genius!