Hogwarts Archaeologist Toby

Harry gradually woke up from the coma, he opened his eyes, but what he saw was darkness.

where am i?

He subconsciously wanted to stand up, but found that he was tightly bound by ropes, sitting on a chair, unable to move.

After several consecutive attempts without success, Harry recalled in horror what had just happened—he originally left alone for Professor Haimer's note, went to the prize showroom on the fourth floor, and what he saw was It was Professor Quirrell, who was also hit by the opponent's spell, and has been in a coma until now.

What the hell is going on here?

Just when Harry became more and more flustered, he suddenly heard a voice with sarcasm in his tone and an extremely strange calmness:

"Looks like you're awake, Potter."

It was Quirrell's voice.

"How come?" Harry tried his best to find Quirrell, but he seemed to be blind and couldn't see anything.

"Where is Professor Highmore?" Harry tried to suppress the fear in his heart: "Where is Professor Highmore? What did you do to him?"

"Professor Highmore?" Quirrell laughed.This laughter was not his usual shrill tremolo, but a chilling sneer: "Do you really think that Haimo would be so kind to help you? I later asked about some of his deeds, and found that "Prophecy At least half of the articles in the Home Daily are true, you can’t imagine what he has done for archaeology, and some bad deeds even appeared when he was in school, but few people know about these things.”

"You don't really think he's going to spend all his energy to revive your parents, do you? That's nothing compared to his ambition. Haimer is just a lunatic who disregards life—perhaps, even your parents' The cause of death is all related to him. People who are implicated by him will cause misfortune, otherwise why do you think he left Hogwarts, only a ridiculous Niffler for company."

Harry couldn't believe this.It can't be true, it can't be.

"But you clearly thanked him! In front of all the students!"

"No, no, no, what I really wanted was for him to die, but it was hard to do, so I had to trick him into leaving school today. I had to do it. But one day he's going to kill himself , because of his overestimating pursuit of controlling power that is not allowed. Yes, he will fail, Potter. As the price for causing me so much trouble, I will watch him die in front of me. .”

Quirrell wanted to kill Professor Highmore?

What made Harry feel even more frightening was that Professor Highmore had something to do with the death of his parents?how can that be? !

He tried his best to maintain his composure, and put all his thoughts on the current situation—in any case, this was a conspiracy, and what Harry needed to do was to get out as soon as possible.

He couldn't see anything, and could only hope in his heart that Quirrell wasn't staring at him. At the same time, Harry quietly moved his arms, and in order not to let Quirrell notice anything strange about him, he continued. He asked: "You...why do you say that? No matter what purpose you want to achieve, you can't convince me!"

"Of course I don't have such unreasonable hopes."

Harry heard Quirrell say contemptuously—this is a good sign, otherwise Quirrell would definitely not think of an answer, but be the first to prevent himself from breaking free from the rope.

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

"What? Lu Wei was killed by you——"

"It was me, and that time it was Damn Highmore, who stopped my plan to let the troll into the school, so I had to piss off the big dog and make it mess up the Halloween dinner. That's the only way to find it. Come here to check out the agency when you have the opportunity.”

Harry felt as if he had fallen into an ice cellar, with a chill rising all over his body.

Only now did he finally understand what was going on with Quirrell's evil deeds—it turned out that he was the thief of the Sorcerer's Stone, and Voldemort's means of stealing the Philosopher's Stone was from Quirrell!

"Oh it's you!"

"Of course it's me. After all, who would doubt the stammering Quirrell? He looks as timid as a mouse, and he doesn't look like a thief who dared to steal the Philosopher's Stone."

"But you said Professor Heimer was stopping you. It's still too late for you to repent, and he won't let you go -"

Before Harry finished speaking, he was interrupted by Quirrell's sneer: "It seems that you really don't understand anything, Potter, did you dare to be a hero before just because of this? It turns out that I underestimated you gone."

"Haimer suspected me, but he couldn't find anything. The master planned everything in advance. He is more familiar with Haimer than you and I, and knows that he is a person who will not worry. Not as thoughtful as Dumbledore thought, and could even be called reckless."

"In order to avoid doubts about me, the master erased part of my memory, and then restored it one after another, so nothing happened, and even Dumbledore couldn't find any clues."

"You are actually willing to do this..." Harry said in shock: "Let your memory be controlled by others."

There was a sudden silence all around, and Harry immediately stopped all his secret movements.

Just when he thought his little thoughts were discovered by Quirrell, he heard Quirrell's voice continue to sound.

This time, he clearly heard the meaning of fear.

"Sometimes I find it hard to follow my master's orders—he's a great wizard, and I'm so weak—"

"You mean the school hospital?" Harry asked in surprise, "You were with him on the day of the Quidditch final?!"

"No matter where I go, he is with me, since my plan in Gringotts failed." Quirrell said calmly: "Until it was time to dispel doubts, he was willing to let go for a short time. Me. But after that I was controlled by him again, re-manipulated by him in the Forbidden Forest. He understands my weakness, but I don't care anymore. Heimer thought I would appreciate him for curing my stutter, which It’s ridiculous—the me at that time would have given more complete loyalty to my master—I was still the same me, only wanting to gain power, not wanting to be incompetent again.”

"It is the master who gave me hope, and he will help me get everything I want."

"And you, Harry Potter, are part of my plan to serve."

Harry found himself suddenly able to see the picture again, Quirrell was standing right in front of him, with the purple scarf still wrapped around his head, which looked so ridiculous and ugly now.

Just across from Harry, he saw a tall mirror, which Harry recognized at a glance—it was the Mirror of Erised.

Quirrell waved his wand, and the chair automatically floated in front of the mirror, fully reflecting Harry in.

"The master is indeed right—fortunately, he asked Mundungus to come to investigate in advance, Dumbledore will naturally have reservations about the last mechanism, and Hammer must have participated in this protection—I can only see I offered the Philosopher's Stone to my master, but I couldn't get it out anyway."

"but......"

Quirrell cast his cold gaze on Harry: "Who could be more in line with Dumbledore's wishes than the Boy-Who-Lived? Even if there is a key suitable for opening the mirror, you must be the perfect one. pieces."

Upon hearing this, Harry quickly turned his head away, not even looking at the Mirror of Erised.

But Quirrell pointed his wand at Harry, and he said viciously: "It's time to make a choice, Potter. Are you going to be a dead hero, or are you going to take out the Philosopher's Stone and give it to me— —”

"I will dedicate it to the King of Vampires."