A friendly day at Hogwarts

"Who are you?!"

A cold, angry voice came from behind Quirrell's head.

Harry was still lying on the ground, holding the scar tightly with one hand, struggling and rolling wildly on the ground.

Quirrell was still looking at his hands that seemed to be burned, gasping intermittently.

He seemed to be able to feel his master's violent emotions at this moment, and he didn't even dare to scream.

Glenn stood still, with a hint of joking in his tone: "What? Does the great Voldemort have such a bad memory?"

"Turn around! You fool, let me see for myself!"

Voldemort's voice became even angrier and he shouted loudly.

Quirrell shrank his neck and turned around slightly, with tears on his face in pain.

Glenn saw it again - the deformed face attached to the back of Quirrell's head.

The red light flashed in his narrow eyes, expressing the rage in his heart at this moment.

"you again!"

Voldemort gritted his teeth and spoke word by word.

"Are you surprised?" Glenn shrugged and said in a relaxed tone.

He knew very well that irritating Voldemort and making him completely lose his mind was the best way at this moment.

The red light in Voldemort's eyes became even more intense, vividly explaining what "enemies are extremely jealous when they meet".

"kill him!"

Perhaps because of the influence of Horcrux magic, he could hardly control his emotions, and there was only one thought left in his mind -

Let this blond boy go to hell as quickly as possible.

Quirrell turned around again and looked directly at Glenn again.

The burning pain in his hand seemed to have eased slightly, and he was able to hold the wand, but the pained expression was still on his face.

"Avada..."

As soon as he started to bite the big melon, Glenn immediately prepared himself, held his wand flat in front of him, and was ready to dodge.

Perhaps because of the lingering injuries from the previous stabbing in the kidney, or perhaps because of the influence of Harry's sacrificial talisman, Quirrell's combat effectiveness was greatly reduced.

Although this killing curse carried the same cold and evil aura, the fluctuations in magic power were much weaker than expected.

If we use Patricia's level as a standard, it's not even half as good as hers.

Not to mention Glenn's current level, even one as weak as last year could barely block this killing curse.

"Armor protection!"

He recited the spell without hesitation and put up a barrier in front of him. At the same time, he also kept an eye on it and made plans to dodge, so as not to miscalculate and get killed directly.

To prove that there was nothing wrong with his perception, the red light emitted from the tip of Quirrell's staff hit the armor charm and was instantly bounced away, hitting the wall on one side.

The armor spell only caused a slight ripple of magic power, consuming part of the magic power.

Quirrell never imagined that a little wizard who looked like he was no more than one or two years old could deflect his own killing curse.

This almost subverted his cognition, and he was in a daze for a moment, not knowing what to do.

"What are you still dawdling about? You idiot! Why don't you kill him quickly!"

Seeing that his servant was so unsatisfactory, Voldemort's anger almost reached its peak, and he yelled hoarsely.

His words seemed to be more than just venting his emotions. Glenn clearly felt that there was a slight change in Quirrell's breath.

Quirrell, who had been in a daze just now, came to his senses, waved his wand again, and hit the big melon again.

Glenn felt his scalp numb, and there was a warning sign in his heart.

Compared with the previous one, the green light this time is obviously not on the same level.

He didn't hesitate and immediately jumped to his side, not even caring about maintaining his image.

As he expected, the previous armor spell was like paper under this attack, penetrated by the green light without any delay, and turned into disordered magic power, scattered in the air.

This is definitely not a strength that Quirrell can achieve on his own.

Hearing Voldemort's unbridled laughter, Glenn stood up quickly and looked at Quirrell.

Sure enough, just like the troll in the girls' bathroom before, his eyes were also occupied by a strange red light.

"Kill him! Kill him!"

Voldemort's voice became more and more crazy, and it seemed that even he was affected by that power, and his desire to kill even exceeded his desire for the Sorcerer's Stone.

Glenn subconsciously looked at the black flames, looking forward to Dumbledore's rescue.

At the same time, the pain in Harry's scar seemed to have weakened a lot, and he was sitting up blankly, observing the situation around him.

He, the protagonist with the magic stone in his hand, has become an outside spectator.

What confuses him even more is that the person Quirrell is chasing after is actually his mortal enemy for a year - Malfoy.

This scene seemed even more puzzling than when he learned that Snape was a good person.

Since Dumbledore was right outside the door, Glenn didn't dare to reveal his two trump cards, Blink and Windwalk. He could only scurry around the circular room awkwardly, occasionally waving his hand and throwing out one or two Obstacle or Stun spells to hinder them. Quirrell's attack.

Seeing that Dumbledore had no intention of coming in to help, he guessed the old fox's intention.

"Hold him, Harry!" he shouted. "He can't touch you!"

Harry looked at him blankly, as if he was hesitating whether to listen to this guy or not.

Glenn also knew that it was difficult to gain his trust with his current image, but he could not restore his original appearance, so he could only try to persuade him.

"If you want to keep the Philosopher's Stone, just listen to me!" He said earnestly, "Have you forgotten his reaction when he just touched you?"

At this time, Voldemort, who had almost lost his mind, also happened to send an assist.

"Kill both!"

Upon hearing this, Harry ignored the personal grudges between the two and jumped into the water, reaching out and grabbing Quirrell's wrist.

"what!!!"

Quirrell let out a hideous scream again.

He lowered his head in pain and saw that the hand holding the wand was severed from the wrist. At this moment, it was like burnt cinders, turning into ashes all over the sky, leaving only a bare wrist.

The wand fell to the ground with a "clack", and the last killing curse rubbed Glenn's back and hit the wall, leaving a scorch mark.

"Master! My hand!..."

Quirrell pinched his wrist with his other hand, wailing in pain, his voice full of fear.

At the same time, Harry cried out in pain again when he fell to the ground.

Due to Voldemort's rage, his scar began to hurt again.

But for Glenn, this result is enough.

He stopped running and raised his wand.

"All petrochemical!"

The spell hit accurately, Quirrell's arms snapped to his sides, his legs were brought together, and his whole body stiffened instantly.

He swayed on the spot a few times, then fell to the ground with a plop.

Coincidentally, the first thing to touch the ground was the face on the back of the head...