Hermione, let's start the revolution at Hogwarts

"But he is preventing you from killing the Potter boy." Quirrell quietly pinched a bit of velvet hair from his clothes and put it into his pocket, his movements were slow but twitching at the same time.

Voldemort paid no attention to what he was doing, thinking that Quirrell was messing with the letters he had written to Muggles again.

"Aren't you also stopping me from killing that child?" Voldemort turned to Quirrell.

"No... Master, killing him will only make Dumbledore angry. This is an unwise choice." The professor said in fear, "And I didn't mean to stop you at the time, it was my subconscious... "

Voldemort said nothing, perhaps believing this statement.

He could feel Quirrell's desire to get the Philosopher's Stone, which could not fool the greatest immortal dark wizard.

"What do you think of that Sherlock Holmes?" said Voldemort. "So his Unforgivable Curse did cause you pain?"

"Of course, I suddenly felt a heartbreaking pain. It's true, Master...if you hadn't forced her, you might have tortured Granger to death." Quirrell kicked the ball back.

At the same time, I was also surprised by Nietzsche's talent.

It is not a good thing that an eleven-year-old child can easily come up with the idea of ​​"wanting to kill people".

"If he succeeds, Dumbledore will start to doubt... That old guy is very afraid of geniuses. At that time, I really want to see the second dark wizard I trained with my own eyes, hehehe."

"But what if he doesn't succeed?" Quirrell interrupted eagerly.

"Then just die as a Mudblood. Then he will hate me even more. It would be too easy for Dumbledore to die under my death curse. I want him to experience the feeling of betrayal and separation from all relatives."

Quirrell nodded and placed the book on the bookshelf on how to take care of potted flowers on the table before going out.

It was now four o'clock in the afternoon. Normally, students at this time would be preparing for night outings or studying in the auditorium, but today, without exception, they were all partying, and even Hermione rarely put down her notebook.

As he reached the moving staircase, he heard Hermione showing off to Nietzsche.

"Professor Flitwick just told me secretly that my score is over 100 points, and I will definitely be the first in the grade this time!" Her voice was full of joy.

So where do they plan to go?

Quirrell rolled his eyes, separated some of the small bunch of white fluff in his pocket, threw it out, and fell on Nietzsche's hair.

Nietzsche didn't feel anything. He looked as if a dandelion had fallen on him. He and Hermione walked along the edge of the black lake, watching the Weasley twins and Lee Jordan teasing the giant squid in the shallow water.

At this time, Hagrid walked over from the direction of the Forbidden Forest, carrying a bucket.

"What are you doing?" Jordan asked curiously when he saw him rolling up his trouser legs.

"I...um...I plan to eat fried fish tonight." Hagrid said vaguely, a little embarrassed, "You know I have always had a big appetite, so..."

The twins Jordan and Weasley didn't notice anything was wrong.

When Hagrid saw Nietzsche on the other side, he immediately called him over to help. Catching fish with bare hands was not an easy task.

"Can you help me? Just use your floating spell to put the fish in the bucket." Hagrid suddenly stretched out his hand and pinched the fluff on the top of his head. "You have just finished Have you visited Smaug?"

But Hermione just shook her head and didn't pay much attention.

"Did some velvet fleece escape from the Forbidden Forest?" Hagrid threw it into the water and said with a smile, "Maybe it was blown by the wind. Maybe."

Pu Rong Rong mainly eats scavengers, because the creatures that died before the Forbidden Forest resulted in a large number of reproduction.

But Nietzsche hesitated - he had just come out of the castle, how could he be stained with cattails? Then he threw the bucket and ran towards the shore with the wet wizard's robe.

While walking, I fell down in the shallow water due to the tentacles of a squid.

"Huh?" Hermione was pulled by him and walked towards the castle.

Hagrid was left behind once again...

"Go tell Snape and ask him to pay attention to the areas with velvet." Nietzsche ignored her confusion and simply explained the matter in one breath, "This is the tip Quirrell left for me."

Hermione was stunned for a while before she came back to her senses and connected the small handful of fluff with the Forbidden Forest and Quirrell.

"But if that's the case, then... it was Professor Quirrell who attacked me that day?" She had stood in front of a person who used the Cruciatus Curse on students countless times, and asked her about her grades, and she couldn't help but feel a little scared.

"No, it was Voldemort who attacked you... It has nothing to do with Quirrell anyway, Snape will understand."

Hermione opened her mouth and wanted to speak, but Nietzsche had already run to the principal's office.

Wait, she obviously doesn't want to get involved in this matter... No, no, no, she will just tell Snape about it and let the professors solve it.

Hermione rubbed her chest, as if the effects of the Cruciatus Curse were coming back.

Volume 1: Chapter 73 A good show

When Quirrell entered the room with a 'no entry' sign hanging at the end of the corridor on the fourth floor, he conveniently hung the velvet on the handle.

Inside was a three-headed dog, with saliva dripping from the bared fangs onto the ground. Because of the presence of this three-headed dog, the whole room seemed very crowded.

Quirrell took two steps forward and arrived under its head. He transformed into a harp and plucked the strings. The light and slow ballad soon made the three-headed dog's four legs go limp, kneeling on the ground and falling asleep.

But he did not leave immediately. Instead, he used his wand to cast spells on the three heads one by one.

"Confundo (confuse the eyes and ears)... You are very tired... so tired that you never want to wake up again."

After confirming that the spell was effective, he opened the secret door on the floor behind the three-headed dog with confidence. Looking at the darkness inside, Quirrell made up his mind to jump down after hesitating for a moment.

As a professor at Hogwarts, Quirrell certainly participated in this process. Otherwise, how could he know that this place must have what Voldemort wanted. And the first level is the devil vine.

"Incendio (flaming)"

Quirrell noticed the vines approaching him, and threw his hands to send out several orange-red fireballs.

He seemed to be not just trying to expel them, but to control the flames to burn all the devil vines in the entire tunnel. As he fell from the passage to the room below, there was also a pile of ashes and dry leaves.

The next thing seemed to be about flying technology, because Quirrell saw several flying brooms placed in the stone corridor.

"Humph, it seems that Dumbledore doesn't trust anyone." Voldemort controlled Quirrell to take off his turban and sneered at the flashing lights on the ceiling, "Even the professors who participated in the process don't have a temporary passage."

Those winged "iron birds" are keys of different shapes.

"He still likes to play this kind of trick." He said.

"Dumbledore was just to guard against students at first..." Quirrell explained without humility, "I won't bother you with this trick."

Quirrell raised his head and looked at the flying keys close to the ceiling. He concentrated his mind and clenched his left hand. The sprint speed of those iron birds began to slow down, as if they were stuck in a quagmire, and then they just twitched slightly a few times.

Comparing with the lock hole of the wooden door, he quickly got the key he needed.

In the second room, there was a huge chessboard, each chess piece was two or three meters high, divided into black and white.

"The bishop moves four squares to the right... the castle eats the bishop."

Quirrell replaced the king's chess piece, sat on a tall chair, and commanded every soldier. Even watching his soldiers being smashed into pieces, he could feel the excitement.

Finally, he commanded the last knight to cut the white king in half with a knife. After taking the crown from the ground, the remaining white chess pieces retreated to both sides of the chessboard to make way for Quirrell.

Although it was just a game,... he just liked this situation of being in control of everything.

And the next room was set up by himself - a giant monster, even bigger than the Halloween one.

He looked at the giant monster that roared and rushed over, and just recited a string of tongue-twisting runes. A curse soon fell on the giant monster, causing a bloody lump to grow on its head.

"Fools, do you think I'm really afraid of you?" Quirrell pinched his nose and said contemptuously.

The troll leader that rushed towards him suddenly flew backwards as if hit by a truck, lying motionless on the ground, and at the same time, a kind of pressure crushed its bones.

Quirrell picked up the robe dragging on the ground and carefully stepped over the troll's body.

Then he passed through a purple flame and came to the last secret room... He had been here once before, probably under the dungeon of the castle.

The whole room was arched, and there were rows of stairs against the wall---perhaps it was once used for secret duels.

In the middle of the oval venue, there was a tall mirror, and there was nothing else. This mirror was the 'Mirror of Erised' that Nietzsche had seen in the principal's office.

"Will it be taken away by Dumbledore?" Quirrell lit his wand and turned around against the wall.

No secret door was found, no trace of magic...

"I can feel its breath of life... The Philosopher's Stone, it's here." Voldemort said affirmatively, "You, go and look at that mirror, don't waste time here."

While Quirrell was circling around, he kept an eye on the entrance, as if he was anxiously waiting for someone.

But due to Voldemort's order, he could only move towards the Mirror of Erised little by little, but it was just a mirror, nothing special.

"The Mirror of Erised can see through desires... I know Dumbledore too well." Voldemort asked him to turn around, staring at the mirror and said, "He must have used this principle to do something, no, I can't get it, you come!"

Voldemort looked at his immortal body and soul, but he was very annoyed, and soon broke free from the desire.

"I don't understand..." Quirrell muttered.

"The Philosopher's Stone is placed in this, the greater the desire, the less likely it is to appear." Voldemort issued an order.

That's it? He couldn't even see such simple hands and feet, and was still called "smart" by Hagrid and Flitwick?

Hogwarts is really getting worse and worse.

Strangely enough, Voldemort couldn't feel despair and fear from Quirrell's body and mind today, and that was right... After all, he could get the Philosopher's Stone, and he didn't have to continue to be parasitized and become a formal Death Eater.

Quirrell stared at the Mirror of Erised in a daze, his fingers twitching involuntarily on the side of his thigh.

"What did you see?" Voldemort questioned.

"I saw... I am respected..." Quirrell straightened his back and continued, "and I am powerful."

He did not say the whole story.

In fact, he saw Quirinus Quirrell in the mirror defeated Voldemort, was awarded the Order of Merlin, First Class by Dumbledore and the Ministry of Magic, and shook hands with another person in a classroom.

He touched his pocket, but it was empty.

"You want to use the Philosopher's Stone to achieve your goal, and this desire can be detected by the Mirror of Erised..." Voldemort was a little impatient.

"Then... Then I smash it?"

"Idiot!"

Voldemort began to curse again.

Suddenly, a series of footsteps interrupted Quirrell's thoughts. He turned his head and looked, and the surprise on his face froze, because he saw the surprised face of Harry Potter.

"Is it you?" "You!"

Harry and Quirrell exclaimed at the same time.

But Quirrell reacted quickly, rubbed his face, and softened his smile a little.

"Yes, it's me." He said calmly, "I was just thinking, will I meet a 'key' here, Potter... why are you so surprised?"

Harry didn't come alone, because he saw the sword in the boy's hand.

Quirrell's mind turned quickly, and he soon understood what was going on...Nietzsche must have found out, although he couldn't figure out why the other party sent Harry in, but there must be a reason.

Let him think about it---Harry Potter, the boy who survived the catastrophe, Voldemort's number one enemy.

"I thought it was...Snape." Harry took a few steps back with astonishment.

"Snape?" Quirrell's voice now was not the stuttering tone in class at all, "People like him care about these things?"

The professor just snapped his fingers, and several chains appeared out of thin air to tie Harry up.

The silent and wandless spell made Harry feel the difference in power.

But Quirrell didn't act right away. Instead, he was thinking about the plan that would change in the middle of the process while looking for weaknesses around the Mirror of Erised. In his original idea, it should be Nietzsche Holmes.

The sword represents Nietzsche, which means that the other party did understand the hint of Pu Rongrong.

But the question is, why is it Harry Potter?

"But Snape wanted to kill me!" The boy was a little unbelievable for a while.

"No, no, no, it was me who wanted to kill you." Quirrell said indifferently, "You know, if there was no fight in the audience, you might have fallen to death."

"But you were the first to stop it..."

"Yes, because I need to clear the suspicion, so I did that. You see, everyone thinks that Snape, who came late, is the culprit."

Speaking of this, Quirrell's heart was full of complaints.

A guy called "dark magic genius" by Voldemort, can't compare with him as a container in wandless spellcasting. Just a little bit of effort, a student almost died in his hands.

"Use him... Quirrell." Voldemort's hoarse voice came from Quirrell.

"Well, let me see if your 'key' is correct." As soon as Quirrell finished speaking, Harry, who was tied with chains, was dragged in front of him.

Because Harry was ignorant and indifferent to the Philosopher's Stone, he saw himself in the mirror putting a bright red stone into his pocket... He swallowed and tried to make himself look calm.

Others cannot see other people's pictures. Harry knew this during the Christmas holiday.

"What did you see?" Quirrell said impatiently.