Connor's Hogwarts

Chapter 338
(Tomorrow I will go to the civil service exam, I'm going to touch a fish tonight _(:з」∠)_, one update, 5000 words mixed with water and free 1000 words)
The few people who went through the barrier didn't know that their every move fell into the eyes of an unscrupulous voyeur, and what was even more infuriating was that this voyeur even tricked an innocent teenager into watching the evil surveillance video with him.
"Wow~! I actually managed to do 233 questions. As expected of Voldemort, he has a lot of knowledge!" Connor clapped his hands and laughed.

"." Dumbledore looked at the "giant screen" hanging on the wall, and couldn't help raising his eyebrows: "How many questions have you set?"

"Not many, just 777." Connor smiled sincerely.

"." Are you a devil?Dumbledore waved his hand, and the camera on the screen switched: "Harry and the others are here too, but Quirrell hasn't passed the level yet. They won't bump into you here, right?"

"Probably not." Connor was taken aback, and said with a stiff neck, "The following questions are not done by humans. I don't believe that Voldemort can do 500 questions."

Sure enough, Voldemort did not disappoint Connor, he did another half an hour of questions, and finally achieved (321/7) achievement in 7 questions.

then…

[The result of your magic knowledge level test is: intermediate magician.There is no limit to learning, please continue to work hard and make persistent efforts. 】

When the blue screen turned red and the glaring subtitles appeared, Voldemort was so angry that his nose was crooked, even though he didn't have a nose.

"Hahaha, an intermediate magician, Voldemort is nothing more than that." Connor behind the screen laughed.

"..." Dumbledore asked curiously, "How are you classified?"

"Huh? Oh, it's very simple. It's divided according to how many questions you can solve... Junior wizards with less than 50 questions, intermediate wizards with less than 100 questions, advanced wizards with less than 200 questions, junior magicians with less than 300 questions, and intermediate magicians with less than 400 questions... "

Connor shrugged: "Is it simple and easy to understand? Although the question bank is relatively simple now, I think I can try to promote this [test system] after expanding the question bank in the future. What do you think?"

Dumbledore glanced at Quirrell who was going to the next level, and the trio of Harry who were playing chess excitedly. He stroked his beard and said, "It's kind of interesting..."

Quirrell struggled with the potion question for a long time, and then Voldemort took control of him. He solved the puzzle in two or three strokes and swallowed the potion to reach the final level.

"I want to leave for a while." Dumbledore stood up, said something to Connor, and disappeared into the room the next second.

Connor tilted his head and said to himself, "How did you do it... By the way, Saber."

"Master?" Arturia got out from the earring.

"I remember I hung a photo frame in the safe house, right? You can go over and help, in case any accidents happen..." Connor pointed to the three or two kittens on the screen.

"I understand." Artoria nodded and disappeared into the room. She always obeyed Connor's orders (except for unhealthy ones).

Then only Connor and the bald Phoenix Fox were left in the room. Just when Connor was about to say hello to the hairless chicken, Angel suddenly jumped out of the earrings, looked around first, and then sat on the buttocks. Connor's arms.

"Hmm~ Daddy is mine alone now."

Connor touched Angel's head helplessly, and then the two watched the live broadcast together, but when he looked up, he saw a weird scene...

Quirrell stared at the Mirror of Erised in front of him, and behind the Mirror of Erised, Dumbledore stood there openly, but neither Quirrell nor Voldemort found Dumbledore behind the mirror.

It was only at this moment that Connor clearly realized that Voldemort was indeed no match for Dumbledore when compared to his magical attainments.

"Wrap your turban, I don't want to see this mirror." Voldemort ordered Quirrell, and Quirrell obeyed timidly.

Connor touched his chin: "Voldemort...what would he see in the mirror?"

----

The person who appeared in front of Harry was not Snape, nor Voldemort, but Quirrell.

"It's you!?" Harry was so shocked that he couldn't even breathe.

Quirrell laughed calmly, his back was no longer sore and his legs were no longer hurting, and he didn't stutter anymore. After so long, he finally met someone who could pretend, and Quirrell was even a little happy.

"Yes, it's me. I was wondering if I could meet you, Potter."

"But... I thought it was Snape—" Harry stammered instead.

"Snape?" Quirrell laughed loudly, his face was dark and frightening:
"Yeah, Snape doesn't really look like a nice guy, does he? He's flying around like a giant bat, which helps us a lot. With him around, who's going to doubt... But...poor, stuttering...stuttering Quirrell...professor? Hahahahaha!"

In fact, Quirrell didn't want to speak for Snape, but this was the master's order. In order to help the "loyal" servant Snape, he wanted to draw a line with him so that Snape could gain more trust.

Harry backed away tremblingly, he couldn't believe it.

No, it can't be true, it can't be!
"Snape tried to kill me! He wanted me to fall off the broom!" Harry yelled at Quirrell.

"No, no, no, I was the one who tried to kill you. During that Quidditch match, your friend Miss Granger rushed to hex Snape, and they knocked me down. She broke my gaze on you, and I would have thrown you off your broomstick if I hadn't held on for a few more seconds. If Snape hadn't been chanting counter-curses to keep you alive, I would have Knocked you down."

Quirrell also tried his best to prove Snape's innocence.

"Snape wants to save me? How is it possible! He...he hates me so much..." Harry kept shaking his head, he was unwilling to accept this result.

"Of course it is," Quirrell smiled charmingly, "Why did you say he was refereeing your second match? He wants to make sure I don't hurt you again. It's ridiculous.. Actually, he doesn't have to pay for it." Thoughts. I can't do anything with Dumbledore around. The other teachers thought Snape was trying to prevent Gryffindor from winning, he did make himself very unpopular, what an idiot... However, this Everything is in vain, no matter what, I will kill you tonight."

"Crack!" Quirrell snapped his fingers, and a few ropes jumped out of nowhere behind him, binding Harry into a dumpling.

Looking at Harry who was helpless under his command, Quirrell couldn't help asking in his heart: "Master, I seem to be able to kill him, do you want to..."

"...Don't worry, let him help find the Philosopher's Stone first, you can't find the stone, but he can find it, he can...then try to kill him..."

With instructions, Quirrell had to continue his performance:
"You're too nosy to let you live, Potter. You were walking around the school on Halloween, and I knew at the time that you saw me checking the Sorcerer's Stone."

"It was you! It was you who let that troll in?!" Harry "tactfully" colluded with all the clues, and he finally believed that it was not Snape who wanted to steal the Philosopher's Stone, but Quirrell in front of him.

"Of course it is. I have a special way of dealing with trolls - but unfortunately, when everyone was in a hurry looking for trolls, Snape, who was already suspicious of me, rushed straight to the fourth floor and tried Stop me!! Not only did my troll not kill you, even that big three-headed dog didn't bite off Snape's leg!"

Quirrell performed incompetent rage with an exaggerated expression. In order to clear Snape's name, he used all his acting skills.

When Quirrell calmed down, he stroked the mirror beside him and said, "Okay, just wait quietly, Potter. I need to take a closer look at this interesting mirror."

It wasn't until this moment that Harry realized that the thing standing beside Quirrell was the Mirror of Erised that he had discovered by accident before, but this time he didn't see his parents when he looked in the mirror.

"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..."

Worried that Quirrell had found the Philosopher's Stone, Harry decided to talk to him so he wouldn't be able to focus on the mirror.

"I saw you and Snape in the Forbidden Forest..."

"That's right," Quirrell said lazily, while turning to check behind the magic mirror, and from Connor's perspective, he passed in front of Dumbledore many times but did not find Dumbledore, which made Connor Weird expression.

"At that time, he had already been eyeing me, wanting to know how far I had gone. He had been suspicious of me. He wanted to scare me—in fact, he couldn't scare me. I was standing behind me, but my Master - Voldemort."

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

"I'm already on the way to find the Philosopher's Stone...I'm about to dedicate it to my master...but where is it hidden?"

Harry tried desperately to break free from the ropes that bound him, but they became tighter and tighter.His breathing became more and more constricted: "But Snape always seemed to hate me so much."

"Oh, he does hate you," said Quirrell casually. "Of course he hates you. He was at Hogwarts with your father, oh, you don't know that? .But he never wanted you dead."

"..." Harry was silent. He never thought that Snape and his father would be classmates, but now was not the time to think about it. He struggled and shouted: "Even if you get the Philosopher's Stone, you can't escape." Out of school! I've written to Dumbledore! He'll be right back here!"

"My master is watching me, and I am not afraid of Dumbledore...he is with me wherever I go," Quirrell said calmly, "I met him while traveling the world. I was a foolish lad with absurd ideas about right and wrong. It was the great Lord Voldemort who pointed out my mistakes. There is no such thing as right and wrong, only power! Power is everything!"

This person was obviously fooled by fools, Connor looked at him speechlessly, and then ate the watermelon bored.

Quirrell trembled suddenly: "But he never easily forgives my mistakes. When I failed to steal the Philosopher's Stone from Gringotts, he was very upset...he punished me..."

Quirrell's voice gradually became inaudible.

Then Harry remembered the first time he went to Diagon Alley, when he saw Quirrell and shook hands with him in the Leaky Cauldron, why didn't he think of that...

Quirrell felt that the time was almost here. He turned around and said sinisterly, "Come on, Potter, come here."

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

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

Harry walked towards him, wondering how to get away with it.

Quirrell moved up behind him.Harry smelled a strange, disgusting odor that seemed to be coming from the scarf on Quirrell's head.He 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 smiled.Harry in the mirror reached into his pocket, took out a bright red stone, blinked, and put the stone back into his pocket.

At the same time, Harry felt that something heavy had really fallen into his pocket!That's how I got the Sorcerer's Stone!

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

Harry summoned up his courage and said, "I saw myself shaking Dumbledore's hand, and I won the House Cup for Gryffindor..."

Then Harry heard a shrill voice from the back of Quirrell's head: "He's lying! He's lying!"

"Potter, come back here!" Quirrell yelled, lifting him up with one hand, "Tell me the truth! What did you just see!?"

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

"Master, your physical strength..."

"This strength... I still have it..."

Harry felt as if he was tightly entangled in the devil's net, and he couldn't move at all.He stood there dumbfounded, watching Quirrell raised his hand to remove the scarf on his head.How is this going?The scarf fell, and Quirrell's bare head looked oddly small.Then, slowly, he turned around on the spot.

Harry tried to scream, but no sound came out.Where the back of Quirrell's head should have been, there was actually a face!

Harry had never seen such a hideous and terrifying face before.The color of that face was dead white like chalk, the blood-red eyes seemed to be shining, and underneath were two nostrils that were slender and slender like snakes.

So ugly! !That was Harry's first thought, and then... Voldemort! ! !Harry already knew the answer in his heart!He never thought that Voldemort was hiding on Quirrell's body!
"Harry Potter..." Voldemort gave an ugly smile.

Harry tried to step back, but his legs wouldn't do it.

"Look what I've become?!" said the face. "Only shadows and vapors... I can only have form if I share a body with others... But some people will let me in Their hearts and minds... But once I get the elixir, I'll be able to recreate a body of my own... Well... why don't you give me the Philosopher's Stone in your pocket?"

(The following are free of charge)

He knows!Harry's legs staggered back.

"Don't be stupid, Harry Potter..." said the face viciously, "you better save your own life and take refuge in me...or you will end up like your parents...they died in pain Begging for my life..."

"You're lying!" Harry yelled, jerking his head up. "My parents couldn't beg you for mercy!"

Quirrell stepped back towards him, allowing Voldemort to still stare at him.Now there was a grin on that wicked face.

"How touching," he said in a hoarse voice, "I've always admired courage... But it's useless, give me the Philosopher's Stone, don't make unnecessary struggles..."

"Don't think about it!" Harry's eyes were burning with fire.

Sensing something was wrong with Harry, Voldemort screamed, "He wants to run! Catch him!"

but--

Harry didn't run, he charged towards Quirrell, he was a wizard, but he didn't pick up his wand, what he swung towards Quirrell was a fist!
Harry's small body exploded with speed and strength that shouldn't belong to him. His first punch hit Quirrell's slap that turned around and grabbed him.

The scar on Harry's forehead suddenly hurt sharply, excruciating pain!It's over!Harry's heart skipped a beat, this split second would cost his life!However, the expected attack did not come, and instead Harry heard a scream that did not belong to him.

"Ah ah ah ah ah ah ah!"

Harry looked around blankly, only to see Quirrell hunched over in pain, looking at his fingers - Harry saw blisters popping up on his hands one by one.

it works!

Harry's eyes were red, as if they were glowing, Harry clenched his fists, straddled forward, and punched half a step!Then--

"Ola Ola Ola Ola Ola Ola——!!"

Harry's fists rained down on Quirrell's body. Every time the fists touched, Harry's head felt as if it was about to explode, but he didn't stop. Fists are pouring on Quirrell.

"Idiot! Idiot! Fight back, fight back!!"

"Ah—ah—! Ah!!" Quirrell wanted to fight back, but the pain made him unable to hold his wand steadily, and blisters appeared all over his body.

"Ahhhhhhhhhhh!" Harry's fist landed on Quirrell's face and the back of his head, and Quirrell continued to scream as his skin began to redden, peel off, and then...vaporize...disappear...

"Ola-Ola-Ola-Ola-Ola-Ola--!"

Harry's headache was getting worse and worse-his eyes were black-he could only hear Quirrell's terrible scream and the wind of his fist-and then he sank into darkness, as if to fall...fall...fall...

Harry's consciousness gradually blurred... At the end, he seemed to see Principal Dumbledore coming back to save him. Principal Dumbledore stood in front of him with a strange expression, holding a...monster card in his hand?
Am I saved?It shouldn't be a dream...

(End of this chapter)