Archaeologists at Hogwarts

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

Where am I?

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

After trying several times without success, Harry recalled with horror what had just happened - he originally left alone for Professor Heimer's note and went to the trophy display room on the fourth floor, but what he saw instead was

It was Professor Quirrell, and he was hit by the other party's magic spell, and has been unconscious until now.

What the hell is going on?

Just as Harry became more and more panicked, he suddenly heard a voice with a sarcastic and unfamiliar calmness in his tone:

"It looks like you're awake, Potter."

It was Quirrell's voice.

"How could it be?" Harry tried hard 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 Heimer?" Quirrell laughed. This laugh was not his usual shrill trill, but a chilling sneer: "Do you really think Heimer would be so kind to help you? I

Later, I inquired about some of his deeds and found that at least half of the articles in the Daily Prophet were true. You can't imagine what he had done for archaeology. Some of his bad deeds were even revealed when he was in school.

It’s just that few people know these things.”

"You really don't think he will spend all his energy resurrecting your parents, do you? This is nothing compared to the ambition he pursues. Heimer is just a lunatic who has no regard for life - maybe, even your parents'

The cause of death is all related to him. People involved with him will be in trouble. Otherwise, why do you think he would leave Hogwarts with only a ridiculous Niffler as a companion."

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

"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 a bit difficult, so I had to trick him into leaving school today. I had to do this. But one day he will kill himself

, because of his overestimating pursuit, trying to control the 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 actually wants to kill Professor Highmore?

What makes Harry feel even more terrifying is that Professor Heimer is actually related to the death of his parents? How is this possible?!

He tried to maintain his composure and focused all his attention on the current situation - no matter what, 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 moved his arms quietly, and in order to prevent Quirrell from noticing his strangeness, 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 won't hold on to such vain hopes."

Harry heard Quirrell say contemptuously - this was a good sign, otherwise Quirrell would not have thought of an answer, but would have been the first to stop himself from breaking away 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 that you saw me checking the mechanism of the Philosopher's Stone."

"What? Lu Wei was killed by you——"

"It was me, and it was Damn Heimer that time too. He stopped my plan to let the troll into the school, so I had to piss off the big dog and let it make a mess at the Halloween dinner. Only in this way can I find

Come here to check out the agency when you get the chance."

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 Quirrell's evil deeds were - it turned out that he was the thief of the Sorcerer's Stone, and Voldemort's means to steal the Sorcerer's Stone lay in 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 doesn't look like a thief who dares 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 could finish his words, he was interrupted by Quirrell's sneer: "It seems that you really don't understand anything, Potter. Did you dare to be a hero based on this? It turns out that I underestimated you.

Already."

"Haimo suspected me, but he couldn't find anything. The master had planned everything in advance. He is more familiar with Haimo than you and I, and knows that he is a person who will not have any worries.

It's not as thoughtful as Dumbledore thought, it can even be called reckless."

"In order to avoid any doubts about me, the master erased part of my memory, and then restored it one after another. Then 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 actions.

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 fear.

"Sometimes, I find it difficult to follow my master's orders - he is a great wizard, and I am so weak -"

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

"He's been with me wherever I go, ever since my plan at Gringotts failed." Quirrell said calmly: "He wasn't willing to let go until just to dispel suspicion.

Me. But after that, I was controlled by him again, controlled by him again in the Forbidden Forest. He knew my weaknesses, but I didn't care anymore. Haimo thought I would be grateful to him for curing my stutter.

It's really ridiculous - by that time I had already given myself a more complete loyalty to my master - I was still the same person who just wanted to gain power and didn't want to be incompetent again."

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

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

Harry found that he could suddenly see the picture again. Quirrell was standing in front of him on the right, with the purple scarf wrapped around his head. Now that scarf looked so ridiculous and ugly.

Just opposite Harry, he saw a tall mirror. Harry recognized the mirror at a glance - it was the Mirror of Erised.

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

"The master is indeed right - fortunately he asked Mundungus to come and inquire about it in advance. Dumbledore will naturally have reservations about the last mechanism, and Highmore must also be involved in this protection - I can only see

I dedicated the magic stone to the master, but I couldn't get it out."

"but......"

Quirrell cast his cold eyes 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 said fiercely: "It's time to make a choice, Potter. Are you going to be a dead hero, or are you going to take out the Sorcerer's Stone and give it to me -

—”

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