Rig and Hermione had been keeping a close eye on Harry.

As soon as Harry moved, they spotted the little pocket, which had been flat, but now bulged a little.

A smile tugged at the corner of Rig's mouth, and he went through the battle plan for a moment in his mind.

Only Ron didn't see anything, he rubbed his arm in boredom.

After being nervous for a long time, Quirrell didn't notice them, and Ron relaxed after being nervous.

"How?" Quirrell asked Harry impatiently, "What do you see?"

Harry took the scarf in his hand, just enough to block the pocket.

"I saw myself shaking hands with Dumbledore," he said spontaneously, "I—I won the House Cup for Gryffindor." ”

Ron shifted his position to take the sword, and he felt his right hand go numb again.

Quirrell began to curse, "You get me out of the way, stupid boy. ”

He began to tap and tap on the mirror again, trying to find the mechanism that didn't exist.

As Harry stepped aside, he felt the precious Philosopher's Stone on his lap.

Run away with it now? Rig and they're still here, and even if he manages to escape, what will happen to his friends?

Harry had barely taken a few steps back when he heard an eerie voice speak, exactly the same as the one he had been scolding Quirrell.

Quirrell's lips didn't move at all.

"He's lying. Let me talk to him, face to face......"

After resting for a long time, Voldemort felt that he could do it again.

"Master, your strength hasn't recovered yet!"

"I still have this bit of strength."

He was on.

Quirrell held up his hand and untied the scarf from his head.

Where it should have been the back of Quirrell's head, there was a face. The color of the face was dead white like chalk, but with a slight hint of black stubble and burnt marks.

His red eyes shone brightly, and underneath them were two long, snake-like nostrils.

It was supposed to be an extremely scary picture, but it became funny because of the black spots on his eyelids and face.

Ron kept his mouth shut for fear of laughing.

Rig also appreciated the scene, Voldemort's face didn't look like a kiwi now, it was as pitted as the surface of the moon, and it was clear that he had done a lot of experiments with his face.

Starting the battle with the enemy's miserable image, Rig was much more confident at once.

"Harry Potter ......," Voldemort whispered when he finally came out.

"Look what I've become!"

Voldemort's ugly face was full of resentment, and before he could turn around, he began to growl, "All I have left is shadow and vapor, and I can only have a body if I share a body with others." ”

Forced to act with Quirrell, whom he despised at all, and to treat Quirrell's daily debilitating body so that he would not die with it, the haughty Voldemort did not expect when he possessed him.

He just treats Quirrell like a replaceable scrap.

"Oh yes, you and your buddies prevented me from getting the unicorn's blood. I'm badly wounded......" His voice hissed like a snake spitting letters.

"Once I get my hands on the elixir, my Philosopher's Stone."

Rig pursed his lips disdainfully, who said the Philosopher's Stone was in your pocket?

"I was able to recreate a ...... of my own body"

Voldemort withheld the second half of his sentence, and with his own body, Quirrell could die.

He thought coldly.

"Okay, why don't you give me the Philosopher's Stone in your pocket?"

Turns out he knew! Harry's leg suddenly felt again.

Voldemort ordered Quirrell to turn around and let him take a look at Harry Potter.

Voldemort, who finally came out, blinked his eyes, and the black hair that grew back at some point pierced into his eyes, and physiological tears almost welled up.

It's a pain that goes far beyond the eyelashes.

Even if he had Quirrell clean up the hairs that had appeared for some unknown reason, there were now many of them rooted in his face, and they needed to be removed every day.

Harry knew it was Voldemort who wanted to kill him, and he wanted to back off, but his legs didn't listen, and he kept shaking.

Now, Rig clenched his bite cap.

As if Hermione's mind had been received, a strange singing voice suddenly rang out.

It's the most popular song in the wizarding world in the past 30 years, but Ron sings every word out of tune.

Quirrell was distraught at the sound, and his temples throbbed suddenly.

He loved the song.

Even Harry and Rig, who had heard it a long time ago, felt very uncomfortable, and Harry came back to his senses at once, and he staggered backwards.

Then there was a rustle, and the sound of panicked footsteps, which seemed to surround Quirrell, in either direction.

Hermione, who had sneaked in, grabbed a nervous Harry and pushed him forward.

Her hand was just a light touch, giving Harry a little bit of strength.

Rig canceled Ron's Illusion Charm, and when Ron appeared, the sound of running stopped.

Ron, who was still distracted, didn't expect the war to start so soon.

He suddenly appeared and looked at Voldemort, who turned his head to look at Ron.

Ron panicked as he picked up the sword that gave him the most security, and he muttered about what Rig had told him before entering the room.

"Big pendulum, big pendulum, run after hitting the head...... Swing ......"

Ron's mind went blank, except for the words Rig had told him.

"Hah!"

He picked up the sword and slammed it on Quirrell's head in horror.

The long sword, which had been polished by the ground for a long time, exerted its power at this time, slicing into the top of Quirrell's head like chopping melons and vegetables.

"Ahh

Caught off guard, Voldemort screamed, his form almost dissipated, and he stabilized again.

Ron, who had won the blow, sat on the ground with his ass, which saved his life.

An ominous-looking green light streaked in his direction, hitting the classroom wall and dissipating.

Ron ran backwards, his lips trembling, and he couldn't say a word.

Harry, who was in a safer place, swallowed his saliva, wrapped his scarf around the palm of his right hand, and cast his most skillful fire charm.

Harry was in pain, of course, but it only woke him up to his senses and fighting spirit.

On this side of the battlefield, Ron's situation is critical, but he is not the only one fighting.

It doesn't matter, Rig will make a move!

Without waiting for Voldemort to attack Ron, who had attracted hatred, Rig canceled the illusion spell on himself.

He took two leaps forward, placing his biting cap on Voldemort's face, who had just been badly wounded.

Voldemort, who was about to continue attacking Ron, turned around and opened his mouth as if to say hi to him.

Voldemort watched as the familiar hat got closer and closer to him......

"No ——————"

Ball Subscription Ball Referral Ticket and Commuter Pass————

The evening update should be able to kill Voldemort, see if you can take a day off tomorrow,

What kind of profession is this for cattle and horses, the author can only rest for two or three days a month.

Because on the 6th, did you take a leave of absence to bid farewell to Jiang Lao, which means that you can only take one more day off this month.55555 I didn't mumble the update that day, and I made up for it later.

Isn't this the code word every day in December, only one day off?

The Mask of Pain is on.

(End of chapter)