On the other side, in the midst of a series of spells colliding and intertwining, the real 'Quirrell' and his master Voldemort are casting a series of vicious spells.

All kinds of curses flew away, blocked by the iron armor curse one by one.

On the other side, the red-haired boy also smoothly used various spell attacks.

Disarm and stun.

Under the various color streamlines, the two of them carried out the same purpose with different intentions: to shift positions!

Hogwarts obviously couldn't stay for long, as both Voldemort and Connor thought.

It's just that for Voldemort, who had arranged all the plans, there was a little 'accident' in the middle.

"Peter, that guy failed......"

Almost as soon as the battle in Hogwarts ended, he had a sense.

This wasn't because of how much Voldemort was sentient himself, but because he had cast some magic on his 'faithful' servants.

It's like his name, as long as Peter loses consciousness, then he will feel it here.

However, he did not pay much attention to Peter.

Although his flattery is good, Voldemort himself never really trusted him - Tom Riddle never trusted anyone.

For him, there is really only one meaning for the existence of Pettigrew: signal.

Peter's fall means that the storm inside Hogwarts is gradually subsiding, and it also means that his side and his side must end as soon as possible.

"Hmph, the guy who has not achieved enough and has more than enough failure."

His hoarse rebuke couldn't escape Connor's ears, and he just clenched his wand tightly, his eyes smiling loosely.

"So, your plan has failed, how does it feel like your careful plan has fallen short?"

“……”

Voldemort didn't respond.

He looked gloomy, but Quirrell, who was now living with him, could feel the joy welling up in his master's heart.

He didn't notice, the young man didn't notice.

He's really still too young, this is the gap in experience!!

It's just that Voldemort can't just show it like that.

It will take another moment......

He wants to do it when the other party is most relaxed!!

"With your talent and ability, you shouldn't waste your time in such a school."

Voldemort hissed.

"What's even more commendable is that you're still growing now, and there's no limit to what you can achieve in the future."

"So, what do you want to say?"

Without the slightest hint of joy at the hoarse appreciation, Connor simply asked calmly.

"Are you really emotionally succumbed to the situation you are in?"

Voldemort asked coldly.

"Are you really willing to succumb to that stupid old man who doesn't want to change anything, just wants to stubbornly go with the flow? Really willing to just receive that kind of third-rate education in this stupid school?! ”

This should be Headmaster Dumbledore, right?

Because of some thoughts in his heart, Connor didn't correct Voldemort's words.

Even, he wanted to laugh:

"Well, stubborn, stupid, it does fit my opinion of him."

Seeing the boy's vague relief, Voldemort's pale face couldn't help but smile.

After all, it's just an 11-year-old child, and he floats away after being praised casually.

But that idea didn't last long before it was shattered.

"Then you're not going to say anything stupid about teaming up, are you?"

His voice was still steady, but the attitude conveyed between the words was a kind of negation.

It's as simple as deciding to use Floo powder and fireplace to travel tonight and choose a broomstick.

"It doesn't hurt to join forces with me, we have a common enemy......"

"Come on, at your level, to be able to describe school as 'stupid' is enough to see your mind and heart – a narrow-minded dictator is like having a traumatic childhood that has never been able to come out of it for the rest of your life."

“……”

For a time, Voldemort lost even the ability to speak.

Quirrell, who was squeezed to the side, let out a gasp of pain.

However, he did not dare to cry out loud.

Close at hand, sharing a body with the Director, he could feel the anger in his master's heart - it was like an angry beast, far more terrifying than the magical beasts he had ever seen!!

"Therefore, the Death Eaters you have established are nothing more than a plate of loose sand, with no faith, only pure entanglement of interests and power, and after you die, your power will also be scattered......"

"So what? As long as I return, they will remain loyal to me! ”

"So you don't understand."

Seeing Voldemort's arrogant but inexplicably anxious look, as if eager to prove something, Connor just shook his head.

"If nothing else, he will be my enemy, as for you......"

Out of the corner of his eye, he scanned the surrounding forest, and Connor's eyes were finally on the guy who could only cling to others and continue to survive.

"You're just a stumbling block."

"What did you say!"

"Look at your current embarrassed appearance, losing the Philosopher's Stone, losing the apex creation of alchemy, you don't even have the qualifications to restore your original body."

"For many years, no one has dared to underestimate me, not even Dumbledore, do you understand?"

Holding his wand tightly, Voldemort's snake-like eyes exuded even more ruthlessness.

But that didn't scare Connor.

"Now there is."

The boy just put on a calm but arrogant look.

"Although I don't know how you can live in the world as a soul, you don't have a long life."

The next moment, the brilliance staggered, and the power of magic reverberated again in the Forbidden Forest.

One of the elementals dances, raising its hand to create a clear spring of water and targeted strikes, while the other specializes in darkness, with the light of killing and torment.

The two sides seem to have formed a strange tacit understanding, and did not set fire to the forest.

As the only 'outsider' present, Quirrell could clearly feel his master's emotions.

Anger, hatred.

And under this-for-tat is hidden a deep joy, as if everything is moving towards his preset pace.

"Peter was caught, but it also meant that everyone would be gathered there."

The Philosopher's Stone thing will attract everyone's attention, so ......

"No one can save you!!"

When the smoke cleared, Voldemort's eyes were met by the figure who was still strolling around.

However, his wand was not pointed at the enemy, but at himself.

"I never needed to be saved, Tom."

Gradually, some kind of scale crept up his body, and hot air came out of his mouth.

"The person who needs help is yourself."

A blazing dragon's breath erupted from the human's mouth, and the dragon fire struck directly at the weak but vigorous Dark Lord.

'Boom'