Satisfied with everything, John re-applied a disillusionment charm to himself.

The level 4 of the Illusion Spell is not inferior to the Aurors of the Ministry of Magic.

Taking out the fireproof potion and drinking it, John walked into the fire.

It was like drinking ice water, and the fire-fighting potion suddenly penetrated his whole body.

The flames licked his body, but there was not the slightest burning sensation.

John followed the flames as he went, passing through the purple flames and then reaching the black flames.

He could feel the fire-resistant potion on his body disappearing rapidly, and quickened his pace to leave the black flames before the potency wore off.

In front of him, there was the last room.

At the same time, there are already two people already inside.

When he saw the tall man, John's body tensed.

It's Quirrell.

It was Harry who was held hostage by Quirrell in front of the mirror.

"What's the deal with this mirror? What exactly is its function? Help me, master! ”

"Take advantage of that boy...... Take advantage of that boy ......"

"Potter, come up here!"

Quirrell seemed to be talking to himself and as if asking, and John stepped out of the flames, his steps slow.

He knew it wasn't a good time, Voldemort hadn't shown up yet, and he couldn't make a move.

What made John even more curious was how Quirrell survived.

I have to say that this person's life is the same as Xiaoqiang.

The aura on his body was even more sluggish, and there was a strong rancid smell coming from his body.

It was as if there was not a living person in front of you, but a corpse.

Harry was kidnapped by Quirrell and walked to the mirror, and Harry thought a lot about it for a moment.

He didn't think that Snape, who he thought was the bad guy, was actually protecting himself, and that Quirrell, the victim he thought was the real bad guy.

He wanted to protect the Philosopher's Stone, but he didn't know what to do now.

Quirrell was aggressive, and Harry was standing in front of the mirror.

Harry in the mirror winked at him and placed the Philosopher's Stone in his pocket.

Only Harry knew about it, not even Quirrell.

Harry began to open his eyes and say nonsense, "I saw myself shaking hands with Dumbledore, I ...... Findor won the House Cup. ”

Not getting what he wanted, which made Quirrell angry.

"Get out of here!" Quirrell pushed Harry away, cursing in front of the mirror.

Harry stepped aside, the Philosopher's Stone in his pocket, and he wanted to take advantage of the opportunity to escape.

But he had barely gone five steps when he heard Quirrell's voice as he asked himself.

"He's lying!"

Quirrell realized that he had been tricked, and he was even more angry.

He was already weak because he didn't suck the blood of the unicorn, and if it weren't for Voldemort's other way to continue his life, he would have died a long time ago.

For this, he hated Harry to the core.

Pulling out his wand, Quirrell unleashed a spell at Harry.

Harry flew out and fell to the ground, Quirrell's face was frantic, and he snapped, "Hand over the Philosopher's Stone!" ”

Harry gritted his teeth and didn't speak.

"Let me talk to him, you're useless, Quirinath!"

The shrill voice spoke again.

"Nope! Master, I can, I can definitely get the Philosopher's Stone for you! ”

Quirrell was completely panicked at this point, and he stammered to let his master give him another chance.

But Voldemort no longer trusted this subordinate and forcibly took his body.

Weakened to this point, Quirrell couldn't even snatch Voldemort.

Under Harry's horrified gaze, Quirrell's body flipped in an eerie pose.

He grabbed his head with both hands and twisted it like a large rubber ball.

The disgusting smell intensified, and the scarf-wrapped head turned in front of him, and Quirrell untied it little by little.

Behind that head, there was a human face.

Harry had never seen such a hideous and terrifying face, like chalk, red eyes glowing, and below them were two long nostrils as slender as snakes.

Quirrell said in horror and weakness, "Master gave me a chance. ”

Voldemort had a look of disgust on his face, and Quirrell was out of breath.

Now this body has been completely controlled by Voldemort.

Looking at the culprit who made him what he is now, he whispered as if he was beside him, "Harry Potter ......"

Harry tried to back away, but his legs felt like they were frozen, and the wound on his forehead tingled.

"Look at what I've become."

There was resentment in Voldemort's tone, he hated it too much.

The Dark Lord, who was supposed to rule the wizarding world, was now reduced to nothing but shadow and steam, a geist with no body but the body to live on the weak animals.

However, there are some people who are willing to let him into the body, and Quirrell is one of them.

"When I get the elixir, I'll be able to recreate a body of my own."

Voldemort could already see how much panic he would throw the world into when he regained his body, and he felt that everything was under control.

Dumbledore was taken to the Ministry of Magic, and now there is no one who can stop Voldemort.

He was holding his wand, his eyes narrowing dangerously.

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

He wasn't Quirrell's idiot, he was a wizard on par with Dumbledore in his prime.

This little trick naturally can't hide from his eyes.

Raising his wand, the invisible knife slice through Harry's pocket.

A bright red stone fell from his pocket, and Harry tried to retrieve it, but was tied up by Voldemort's deformed belt.

When Voldemort picked up the object he had in mind, he let out a strange geigeige grin.

Look at Harry, the guy he hated.

Stepping on the throne of the great Dark Lord, a hypocritical liar.

He was going to torture this child, the being who the world called the savior.

"Look at you, boy, your parents were very brave back then, and I have always admired courage."

"I killed your father first, but he would rather die than give in, and bravely fight me, your mother doesn't have to die, but she desperately wants to protect you, what a stupid thing to do."

Harry only felt the scar on his forehead hurt even more, and his childhood memories seemed to flash back in his mind.

The green light, and the suffocating laughter.

"No, Voldemort, I'll beat you!" He shouted.

Voldemort smiled coldly, and his wand poked Harry's scar.

"Look, this scar, that savior's lie, you really think of yourself as a savior?"

The wand moved over the scar, causing Harry to let out a wail of pain.

Voldemort's smile twisted, and he felt his body dying quickly.

Having lost the soul of his original owner, Quirrell's body is turning into a corpse.

Voldemort raised the Philosopher's Stone above his head, the glow of the bright red stone, and he raised his wand to finish Harry.

Harry's breathing became rapid, and his eyes were fixed on Voldemort, was he really going to die like this?

"Son, is the magic your mother left for you still there?"

Before he started, Voldemort remembered a scene from twelve years ago and hesitated.

He reached out and touched Harry's body, which quickly blistered.

With that magical being, Voldemort couldn't hurt Harry.

This made him very unwilling.

Voldemort somewhat regretted letting Quirrell die too soon.

The Philosopher's Stone was in hand, and he knew it was time for him to leave, taking the Philosopher's Stone with him before Dumbledore returned.

"Don't go!"

Harry shouted angrily but to no avail, and Voldemort walked towards the door right in front of his eyes.

Harry growled, feeling powerless inside.

Just as Voldemort was about to leave, John, who had been hiding all along, made a move.

Voldemort was no more than an arm's length away from John.

At this distance, John struck decisively.

The greatsword swung out a silver glow.

He stabbed in the back!