Connor's Hogwarts

(I will take the civil service exam tomorrow. I want to catch a fish tonight_(:з」∠)_, first update, 5,000 words mixed with water and 1,000 words free)

The few people who broke through the gate didn't know that every move they made fell into the eyes of an unscrupulous voyeur. What's even more annoying is that this voyeur also tricked an innocent young man into watching evil surveillance videos with him.

"Wow~! I actually got to 233 questions. As expected of Voldemort, he is very knowledgeable!" Connor clapped his hands and laughed.

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

"Not many, just 777." Connor showed a sincere smile.

"."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 run into you here, right?"

"Probably not." Connor was stunned and said with a stiff neck: "None of the questions in the back were done by humans. I don't believe that Voldemort can solve 500 questions."

Sure enough, Voldemort did not disappoint Connor. He worked on the questions for another half an hour and finally achieved the achievement (7/7) at 321 questions.

Then…

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

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

"Hahaha, mid-level magician, Voldemort is nothing more than that." Connor laughed heartily behind the screen.

"..." Dumbledore asked curiously: "How do you classify this?"

"Huh? Oh, it's very simple. It's divided according to the number of questions...beginner wizards with less than 50 questions, intermediate wizards with less than 100 questions, senior wizards with less than 200 questions, junior magicians with less than 300 questions, intermediate wizards with less than 400 questions... "

Connor shrugged: "Is it simple and easy to understand? Although the question bank is still 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 had reached the next level, and the Harry trio who were excitedly playing chess. He touched his beard and said, "It's quite interesting..."

Quirrell struggled with the potion problem for a long time, and then Voldemort took control again. He solved the puzzle in two or three times, swallowed the potion, and reached the final level.

"I need to leave for a moment." 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 this... By the way, Saber."

"Master?" Artoria got out of her earrings.

"I remember I hung the photo frame in the safe house, right? Please go over and help me to prevent any accidents from happening..." Connor pointed at the three or two kittens on the screen.

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

Then only Connor and Fox, the bald phoenix, were left in the room. Just when Connor wanted to say hello to the hairless chicken, Angel suddenly jumped out of his earrings, looked around first, and then sat down. Connor's arms.

"Hmm~ Dad is mine alone now."

Connor helplessly touched Angel's head, and then the two of them watched the live broadcast together. When he looked up, he saw a strange 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 noticed Dumbledore behind the mirror.

Only now did Connor clearly realize that compared to his magical attainments, Voldemort was indeed no match for Dumbledore.

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

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

————

The person who appeared in front of Harry was not Snape or Voldemort, but Quirrell.

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

Quirrell laughed calmly. His waist no longer ached, his legs no longer hurt, and he no longer stuttered when speaking. After being unlucky for so long, he finally met someone who could show off his coolness. Quirrell was even a little happy.

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

"But... I thought it was Snape—" It was Harry who stuttered.

"Snape?" Quirrell laughed, his expression sinister and scary:

"Yeah, Snape doesn't look like a nice guy, does he? He flies around like a giant bat, which is really helpful to us. With him there, who would doubt... But... where is the poor, stammering Professor Quirrell? Hahahahaha!"

In fact, Quirrell didn't want to speak for Snape, but this was his master's order. In order to help Snape, his "loyal" servant, he had to draw a clear line with him and let Snape gain more trust.

Harry shivered and backed away. He couldn't believe it.

No, this can't be true, no way!

"Snape tried to kill me! He wanted me to fall off my broom and die!" Harry shouted at Quirrell.

"No, no, no, it was me who wanted to kill you. During that Quidditch match, your friend Miss Granger rushed over to cast a spell on Snape, and those people knocked me down. She broke my gaze on you. In fact, as long as I held on for a few more seconds, I would have thrown you off the broomstick. If Snape hadn't been chanting counter-curses beside him, trying to save your life, I would have Knocked you to death."

Quirrell also worked hard to prove Snape's innocence.

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

"Of course it is," Quirrell smiled evilly, with an imposing manner, "Why do you think he wants to be the referee for your second match? He wants to make sure that I don't hurt you again. It's really ridiculous... In fact, he doesn't have to do this. I couldn't do anything with Dumbledore here. The other teachers thought Snape was trying to prevent Gryffindor from winning, and he did make himself very unpopular, what a fool... But, this All efforts are in vain, no matter what, I will definitely kill you tonight."

"Pa!" Quirrell snapped his fingers, and several ropes jumped out of thin air from behind him, tying Harry into a rice dumpling.

Seeing Harry who was defenseless under his own hands, Quirrell couldn't help but asked in his mind: "Master, I seem to be able to kill him, do you want..."

"... Don't worry, let him help find the magic stone first. You can't find the stone, but he can find it, he can... and then try to kill him..."

After receiving the order, Quirrell had to continue his performance:

"You are too nosy to be allowed to live anymore, Potter. You were wandering around the school on Halloween night, and I knew right then and there that you saw me checking the mechanism of the Philosopher's Stone."

"It's you! Did you let that troll in?!" Harry "cleverly" connected all the clues. He finally believed that it was not Snape who wanted to steal the Sorcerer's Stone but Quirrell in front of him.

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

Quirrell acted incompetent and furious 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 for now, Potter. I need to take a closer look at this interesting mirror."

Only then did Harry realize that the thing standing next to Quirrell was the Mirror of Erised that he had accidentally discovered before, but this time when he looked into the mirror he did not see his parents.

"This mirror is the key to finding the Philosopher's Stone," Quirrell murmured, tapping his hand along the surrounding frame. "Only Dumbledore can come up with such a thing, but he is in London at the moment. By the time he comes back, I will have left long ago..."

Harry was worried that Quirrell would find the Philosopher's Stone, so he decided to talk to him to prevent him from focusing on the magic mirror.

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

"That's right," Quirrell said lazily, turning behind the magic mirror to check. From Connor's perspective, he walked past Dumbledore many times without finding Dumbledore, which made Connor Weird expression.

"He had already set his sights on me at that time and wanted to know how far I had progressed. He had been doubting me. He wanted to scare me - in fact, how could he scare me? He was standing behind me, but my Master—Voldemort."

Quirrell turned back from behind the magic mirror and stared greedily into it.

"I'm already about to find the Philosopher's Stone...I'm planning 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 were getting tighter and tighter. His breathing became more and more constricted: "But Snape always seems to hate me so much."

"Oh, he does hate you," Quirrell said nonchalantly. "Of course he hates you. He and your father were studying at Hogwarts together. Oh, you don't know this, do you? They hate each other and they hate each other. .But he never wanted you to die."

"..." Harry was silent. He really 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 Sorcerer's Stone, you can't escape." Out of school! I have written to Dumbledore! He will be back here soon!"

"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 around the world. I was still a stupid young man with a set of absurd ideas about good and evil. It was the great Voldemort who pointed out my mistake. There is no good or evil in the world, only power! Power is everything!"

This man was obviously fooled, Connor watched speechlessly, and then ate the watermelon boredly.

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

Quirrell's voice gradually became inaudible.

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

Quirrell felt that the time was almost here. He turned and said in a conspiratorial tone: "Come on, Potter, come here."

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

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

Harry walked towards him but was thinking about how to get away with it.

Quirrell moved closer behind him. Harry smelled a strange, disgusting odor that seemed to come from the scarf on Quirrell's head. He closed his eyes, stood in front of the magic mirror, and then opened his eyes.

He saw himself in the mirror. His face was pale and frightened at first, but after a moment, he smiled. Harry in the mirror reached into his pocket and pulled out a bright red stone, then blinked and put the stone back into his pocket.

At the same time, Harry felt that something heavy had really fallen into his pocket! I actually got the magic stone just like this!

"How is it?" Quirrell asked impatiently, "What did you see?"

Harry took courage and said: "I saw myself shaking hands with Dumbledore, and I also won the House Cup for Gryffindor..."

Then Harry heard a sharp voice from behind Quirrell's head: "He's lying! He's lying!"

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

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

"Master, your physical strength..."

"I still have this little strength..."

Harry felt as if he was tightly entangled in a devil's net, unable to move at all. He stood there blankly, watching Quirrell raise his hand to untie the scarf from his head. How is this going? The big scarf fell down, and Quirrell's exposed head looked surprisingly small. Then, he slowly turned around.

Harry wanted 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. The face was as white as chalk, with blood-red eyes that seemed to be shining, and underneath were two slender nostrils like snakes.

So ugly! ! That was Harry's first thought, and then... Voldemort! ! ! Harry already knew the answer! He never thought that Voldemort was actually hiding in Quirrell's body!

"Harry Potter..." Voldemort showed an ugly smile.

Harry wanted to step back, but his legs wouldn't obey him.

"Look what I have become?!" said the face, "Only shadow and vapor are left... I can only have a body when I share a body with others... But there are always some people who are willing to 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 you have in your pocket?"

(The following is free of charge)

He knows it! Harry's legs staggered back.

"Don't be stupid, Harry Potter..." the face said viciously, "It's best to save your own life and take refuge in me... Otherwise you will end up like your parents... They suffered so much before they died. The ground begged me for mercy..."

"You're lying!" Harry raised his head suddenly and shouted, "There's no way my parents are begging for mercy from you!"

Quirrell backed up and advanced towards him, allowing Voldemort to still keep an eye on him. Now a sinister smile appeared on that evil face.

"How touching," he said in a hoarse voice, "I have always admired courage...but it's useless. Give me the magic stone and don't struggle needlessly..."

"Don't even think about it!" Harry's eyes lit up with hot fire.

Sensing something was wrong with Harry, Voldemort suddenly 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 the wand. What he waved towards Quirrell was his fist!

Harry's small body burst out with speed and strength that shouldn't belong to him, and his first punch hit Quirrell's slap that reversed and grabbed him.

The scar on Harry's forehead suddenly felt a sharp pain, a heartbreaking pain! It’s over! Harry's heart skipped a beat. This momentary flaw would cost him his life! However, the expected attack did not come, and instead Harry heard screams 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 appearing one by one on his hands.

it works!

Harry's eyes were red and seemed to be shining. Harry clenched his fists, stepped forward, and punched with half a step! Then--

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

Harry's fists fell on Quirrell's body like raindrops. Every time the fists touched, Harry's head hurt as if it was going to explode, but he did not stop. He used all his strength to push all the The fists rained down on Quirrell.

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

"Ah - ah -! Ah!!" Quirrell wanted to fight back, but the pain made him unable to hold the wand steady, and blisters appeared everywhere on his body.

"Ah - ah -! Ah!" Harry's fist fell on Quirrell's face and the back of his head. Quirrell continued to scream. His skin began to turn red, fall off, and then... evaporate... turn into ashes...

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

Harry's headache became more and more severe - his vision went black - he could only hear Quirrell's terrifying screams and the wind caused by his fists - and then he sank into darkness, as if to Falling... falling... falling...

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 on his face, and seemed to be holding a... monster card?

Am I saved? It should be...not a dream...