Harry Potter and the Old Ones

Time passed quickly during the question and answer between Tierra and Dumbledore.

After about forty minutes, when the teapot had bottomed out, there was only half a strawberry cake left on the dessert shelf.

In this space of the Mirror of Erised, Tierra ate with an open stomach because she didn't need to worry about gaining weight.

Finally, Tierra saw a disheveled Harry appear at the basement entrance beyond the mirror.

"Yes, it's you!" Harry looked at Quirrell standing in front of the Mirror of Erised in shock, "No, no, how is this possible, how could it be you?"

"I can't think of it, right?" Quirrell turned around with a sullen face, "With Snape around, who would doubt it, but, where's poor Professor Quirrell?"

Tierra could tell from Harry's face that Harry couldn't believe it.

"But, but Snape wanted to kill me!"

"No, no, no, I was the one who tried to kill you. During that Quidditch match, your friend Miss Granger rushed to hex Snape and accidentally knocked me down. She destroyed My stare at you, in fact, just a few more seconds, I will throw you off the broomstick. If Snape hadn't been chanting counter-curses, trying to save your life, I would have killed you fell to his death."

"Snape trying to save me?" Harry couldn't believe it.

"Look, how terrible preconceptions are." Dumbledore, who was sitting on the other side of the mirror, said to Tiera with a smile.

Tierra didn't know how to answer, so she shrugged.

"He is exactly the same as James in this regard." Dumbledore whispered again.

"Of course it is," Quirrell said coldly across the mirror. "Why do you think he's refereeing your second match? He wants to make sure I don't hurt you again. It's ridiculous... Actually, he doesn't have to waste it." Mind. I can't do anything with Dumbledore around. The other teachers thought Snape was trying to prevent Gryffindor from winning, he did make himself quite unpopular... but it was all wasted Time, no matter what, I will kill you tonight."

Quirrell snapped his fingers. It was too late to say it, but a few ropes jumped out of nowhere and tied Harry tightly.

"You're too nosy to be left alive, Potter. I knew right then that you were wandering around the school on Hallowe'en Eve, and you saw me check out the mechanisms of the Philosopher's Stone."

"You let that troll in?"

"Of course I do. I have a special way of dealing with trolls, you must have seen how I taught that guy in that room over there a lesson? Unfortunately, when everyone was scurrying around looking for trolls , Snape, who had already become suspicious of me, rushed straight to the fourth floor, trying to stop me... Not only did my troll not kill you, even the big three-headed dog didn't bite Snape's leg break."

"Well, wait quietly, Potter. I need to take a closer look at this interesting mirror."

Only then did Harry notice what was standing behind Quirrell. It's the Mirror of Erised.

"This mirror is the key to the Philosopher's Stone," Quirrell murmured, knocking along the surrounding mirror frame. "Only Dumbledore can come up with something like this, but he's in London right now, and by the time he comes back, I'll be far away!"

The only way Harry could think of was to keep Quirrell talking and keep him from concentrating on the magic mirror. "I saw you and Snape in the Forbidden Forest..."

Harry spoke up boldly.

"That's right." Quirrell said lazily, turning to look behind the magic mirror. "He had been eyeing me at that time, and wanted to know how far I had gone. He had been suspicious of me. He wanted to scare me." Me, but how can he scare me, with Voldemort as my backer!"

Quirrell turned back from behind the magic mirror and stared greedily into the mirror.

"I see the Philosopher's Stone! I am offering it to my master, but where is it hidden?"

Harry tried desperately to break free from the ropes that bound him, but they became tighter and tighter. He had to stop Quirrell from giving his full attention to the mirror.

"But Snape always seemed to hate me so much."

"Oh, he does hate you," said Quirrell casually. "God, of course he hates you. Don't you know that he went to Hogwarts with your father? Dai Tian. But he never wanted you to die."

"But I heard you crying a few days ago, and I thought Snape was threatening you..." For the first time, a tremor of fear flashed across Quirrell's face.

"Sometimes," he said, "I find it difficult to obey my master, who is a great wizard, and I am so weak."

"You mean, he was the one with you in the classroom?" Harry asked in surprise.

"He's with me wherever I go," said Quirrell quietly. "I met him when I was traveling the world. I was a foolish lad, with an absurd sense of right and wrong. It was Voldemort who pointed out my mistakes. There is no such thing as good and evil, there is only power, and those incompetent people who cannot gain power... Since then, I have served him faithfully, but I also have Disappointed him many times. He's always been very tough on me."

Quirrell shuddered suddenly and said, "He never forgives my mistakes easily. He was very upset when I failed to steal the Philosopher's Stone from Gringotts. He punished me...and decided to get closer ever since." keep an eye on me..."

"Damn it, is the Philosopher's Stone hidden in the mirror? Should I break the mirror?" Quirrell cursed in a low voice.

"What's the matter with this mirror? What's the function of it? Help me, master!" Quirrell had become a little crazy.

At this time, another voice suddenly came from this small basement, and that voice seemed to come from Quirrell himself.

"Use...use the boy," said the voice.

Harry looked around in horror.

"Potter! Come forward!" Quirrell waved his hand, tied Harry's rope and pushed Harry to the mirror.

At this time, Dumbledore, who had been sitting on the chair, stood up and pulled out a red irregular gemstone from the wizard robe.

Dumbledore bent down and tapped lightly where Harry was standing in the mirror.

The red gem disappeared and appeared in Harry's pocket.

Tiera frowned.

Because he found out...that ruby...wasn't the one he'd put in Hagrid's pocket...