Hermione, let's start the revolution at Hogwarts

"I saw myself shaking hands with Dumbledore..."

"Lots of lies!" Voldemort cursed, "The Philosopher's Stone is on him, bring it over!"

Voldemort controlled Quirrell to turn around and let his true face appear in front of Harry Potter.

The wrinkled snake face on the back of his head made the boy almost vomit. Looking at Voldemort connected to his scalp, the hairs on his back crawled up his spine.

But at this time, the iron chain on Harry's body suddenly fell off. In fact, this was Quirrell himself who canceled the summoning spell and the transformation spell. He planned to let Harry leave with the Sorcerer's Stone and hand it to Nietzsche.

Only when Nietzsche gets the thing in hand can he die in peace.

"He's running away! You loser!!" Voldemort drove Quirrell's body and quickly chased him backwards.

Quirrell laughed in his mind: Voldemort couldn't use his body to use magic, he was just a remnant of his soul.

"Master...I...I can't always maintain the control of the curse." He pushed away the responsibility and said aggrievedly, "It may be the sequelae of the Cruciatus Curse. I helped you block Holmes's Unforgivable Curse. "

Harry looked at Voldemort who was suddenly approaching, and felt cruel. He held the sword and flicked it, cutting a scar on his face.

"Ah!" Quirrell screamed because of the stinging pain on the back of his head.

This made Voldemort even more angry. He ignored the danger - it was Quirrell who was injured anyway, so he simply grabbed Harry's wrist against the blade, but at this time, a burning sensation spread from his arm.

This time, it was no longer Quirrell who screamed.

And Harry was not much better. The pain on his forehead made him feel as if his head had been torn in half. The severe pain prevented him from falling to the ground and unable to move forward.

"Come on...you go and deal with him!" Voldemort's voice began to weaken, and he returned control of his body to Quirrell.

Quirrell looked at his wrist. The skin on it was dry and red, and there were even cracks, but not a drop of blood came out of the wound.

His fingers were twisted and trembling due to the severe pain, but he still hooked the wand that fell on the ground with his little finger.

Pain can sometimes make people more awake, so Quirrell suddenly understood the significance of Harry Potter's entry. This 'Boy Who Lived' was the deadly weapon, and even Voldemort had to retreat.

"Kill him! Get back the Philosopher's Stone!!" Voldemort seemed to notice Quirrell's hesitation, so he screamed.

Quirrell looked at the door blocked by purple flames, and the sneer on his lips made Harry feel scared.

"Of course, Master... Of course I will - catch - Potter..." He calmed down and pounced on Harry, pressing his knee into his chest.

"No, no, no, no, what are you doing?!" Voldemort immediately turned from fear and anger to persuasion, "Quirinas, I don't need you to catch him... We only need the Sorcerer's Stone !”

But Quirrell ignored Voldemort's roar and did not use his best silent wand to cast spells. Instead, he hooked the wand with his twitching little finger and pointed it at Harry Potter on the ground.

Not only that, he also deliberately recited a fatal spell...how deadly is it?

"Avada..."

With a splitting headache, Harry instinctively grabbed Quirrell's arm with one hand and raised his sword with the other hand.

‘When the opponent doesn’t have any defensive magic, it is your helper to get out of trouble. Remember, there is only one chance. ’ Nietzsche considered every possibility.

"Leave him!" Voldemort felt his soul burning, "I order you..."

And Quirrell held Harry's hand with his backhand, holding it tighter.

He stared at the 9mm diameter tube and did not avoid it. Instead, he showed a sly smile. Sure enough, he believed it was not wrong, so he did not avoid it or show any fear to alert Voldemort.

"Bang!" A crisp sound echoed in the basement.

"I have endured pain for so long, am I still afraid of this last time?" Quirrell's voice was so calm that even Voldemort was confused.

"You idiot! The Philosopher's Stone is in his pocket!" Voldemort roared viciously, "Look what you have done, Dumbledore is not worth your life. There is no such thing as good or evil in this world... .”

In the end, he really thought that Quirrell had always been the young man with a silly view of good and evil.

"No, you are right. There are only power and incompetent people who cannot obtain power, but no one can control my destiny. I always have a choice... and you can't lie to me."

Quirrell looked at the unconscious Potter and laughed loudly.

At the same time, Voldemort noticed that the vitality in Quirrell's body was constantly flowing away with the blood in his chest, so he simply abandoned this 'container', completely ignoring the other person's life and death.

But he was too unwilling to give in. The Philosopher's Stone was clearly right in front of him, in Potter's pocket...

"Why." After Voldemort escaped from the container, he became a mist.

"No one can dominate me, not even pure blood...Voldemort, and neither can you." Quirrell read his name for the first time.

Quirrell let go of his hand. At this time, half of his body was covered with cracks. He tried his best to open his other still intact eye. After moving away from Harry, he kept looking at the shapeless eye. Voldemort.

How wonderful it is to see unwillingness and hatred in the other person's eyes.

"From today on, every time you find a mouse hiding in the sewer and think back to when you were only one step away from success, you will think of me... a weakling you looked down upon and killed you."

At this time, footsteps were heard again in the corridor leading to the basement, and Voldemort left from the sewer with humiliation.

As Quirrell said, he would never forget this day.

But it was not Principal Dumbledore who entered the basement again, but Professor Nietzsche and Snape who had been waiting at the door early. They hurried to Quirrell and Harry, each carrying one on their backs.

Nietzsche first used a freezing spell to stop the continuous flow of blood from Quirrell's chest to avoid death from excessive blood loss.

"Why did you give the thing to Potter?" Dean Snape put Harry on his back.

"This is just a spare, not enough to kill immediately..." Nietzsche fumbled in the boy's pocket for a long time before taking out the bright red gem. "I need to take all the circumstances into consideration, especially the uninformed Harry."

Looking at the professor's miserable state, if he continued one step further, he would definitely die.

This is the curse that Principal Dumbledore said, and it is a curse specially used to protect Harry and fight against Voldemort.

Snape didn't say anything. He just poured a bottle of black potion into Harry's mouth and walked out. But in fact, he couldn't even believe how well Nietzsche controlled this matter:

The other party even prevented Harry from accidentally killing Quirrell.

"Where is the well-behaved Miss Granger?" Nietzsche shuddered as he walked through the flames.

"In the principal's office, Dumbledore and Dumbledore are preparing things for alchemy."

Volume One: Chapter 74 Quirrell’s Rebirth

(PS: The character collection of Quirinus Quirrell is taken from "The Short Story Collection Hogwarts: Power, Politics and Mischief Ghosts")

What Voldemort could never control was Quirrell's spirit.

No matter how the Dark Lord affects the professor's subconscious, the other party will always use the opposite method to deliberately attract the attention of others, including Principal Dumbledore and Nietzsche...

It's just that the latter places more emphasis on the importance of choice.

"How is Harry?" Dumbledore stood up immediately when he saw them returning to the office.

"I'm afraid Madam Pomfrey needs to work overtime. She was just sent to the school infirmary by Snape. She looks just a little tired..." Nietzsche did not take care of it and placed the weak Quirrell on the principal's desk.

Hermione was frightened --- because half of Professor Quirrell's body was in pieces, like a piece of porcelain about to break.

But she didn't stand there doing nothing. Instead, she swallowed her throat and thought about the medical knowledge in her parents' study. She quickly untied the professor's clothes, revealing the withered skin underneath...

That's right, 'withered' is the only word Hermione can use to describe it.

The skin was wrinkled, wrinkled and then drooped weakly, lifeless.

"A very good method... at least you don't have to worry about the patient losing too much blood." Principal Dai Lisi lay on the edge of the picture frame and winked at Hermione, "Child, take me down... Yes, put it up. point."

Delis Derwent used to be the chief healer at St. Mungo's, and healers had to achieve 'good' results in all required subjects of the N.E.W.T (Ultimate Wizarding Test).

So, she asked Hermione to take down the portrait of the principal and float it in the air, preferably so that she could see Quirrell's entire body.

"I have done experiments with Mercury before and found that the freezing spell can stop the movement of everything...so I temporarily stopped Quirrell's physiological functions and the blood circulation in the wound." Nietzsche took out a bottle of water from his pocket. bottle with powder.

Here is the white fresh essence that has not been used up.

Hermione angrily tore off a piece of Nietzsche's sleeve, transformed it into a mask, and put it on her face.

Then he lit the wand and handed it to Nietzsche. Then he opened a tool box that the other party had never seen before, took out a pliers from it, and shrunk it twice in size with the help of Dumbledore.

"Is this for tooth extraction?" Nietzsche subconsciously covered his mouth.

"My parents gave me a Christmas gift. It's a pity that you are not the first user." Hermione didn't even bother to look at him and said viciously, "I hope you won't brush your teeth after eating the candy... Hold the wand closer!"

Dumbledore glanced at the pliers and silently took a step closer to Nietzsche.

It was terrible, but Hermione reminded him. It looked like he would ask Professor Snape for some anti-cavity potion next year.

"Um...Mr. Holmes, first use the cutting spell to open an incision for Miss Granger at the wound..." Principal Delis directed the two of them, "This person has been overdrawn by black magic and cannot survive. How long."

"So we brought this." Dumbledore was not idle either. He crushed the bright red magic stone into pieces and put it into an alchemy gadget that sprayed steam.

Fragments of the Philosopher's Stone rustled inside. It seems to be grinding already.

"The Philosopher's Stone?" Dai Lisi was a little incredulous, "Nick Flamel actually made this thing?"

"It's no big deal, it's just a magic stone."

Dumbledore was not sure of Quirrell's condition at first, but after combining the clues obtained by Nietzsche, he realized how miserable the situation of the slightly neurotic child was.

And the point of Delis is this - Dumbledore is willing to give up the Philosopher's Stone just to save a poor guy threatened by Voldemort.

"In fact, Nick and I have reached an agreement and have long planned to destroy this thing." Dumbledore said with a smile, "Let immortality become a second life, this is why Nick agreed to let me do this."

Delis looked at the alchemical instrument with a complicated look.

No one can really refuse immortality once, even wise men like them think that immortality is a punishment... But when facing a real choice, it is not just as simple as talking.

Hermione took out several metal fragments from the wound. Under the lighting, she could see the blood that had not coagulated but stopped flowing.

Some blood beads were still hanging on the flesh and blood, and they did not fall off, but were brought out with her pliers and bullet fragments. It seemed that the blood around them had become a semi-fluid state that was forbidden to move.

After Hermione fell stiffly on the chair, Nietzsche immediately wrapped the professor's chest with gauze soaked in medicine. Everything was done before the freezing spell was released.

The nerves started to move again, awakening from paralysis.

"What kind of spell is this?" Hermione said timidly after covering Quirrell with clothes, "I mean... why does Harry Potter carry such a dangerous spell?"

Thinking back, she also shook hands with Potter several times.

Dumbledore did not choose to hide, but to be more precise, he could not hide, so he planned to tell part of it truthfully.

"This is a powerful ancient blood magic. You should have heard about what happened in 1981, but on that day, Harry's mother protected her son with her life... Yes, this is 'love'."

"Of course the emotions of wizards will affect the spell. Just imagine, what can exceed the love of a mother for her son? Just based on Voldemort's greedy ambition?"

"So my calculation is correct. If Quirrell is really parasitic by Voldemort, then he can't touch Harry."

But as Nietzsche believed, Quirrell did not use a spell to control and kill Harry. To put it more seriously---from the beginning, he was determined to die, and he didn't intend to really be loyal to Voldemort.

A once invincible Dark Lord was tricked by the wizard he coerced.

"But how do you know that Quirrell will definitely choose to die?" Hermione spoke out the doubts in everyone's mind on behalf of Delis and other principals who were listening.

Nietzsche stretched and stood by the window sill looking at the starry sky above.

"Professor Quirrell is a true Ravenclaw, a wizard with the freedom of his own thoughts, and suicide is the most radical freedom that can always be chosen."

"It seems that the so-called Defense Against the Dark Arts professor is fake." Hermione took off her mask and hung Principal Delis back on the wall, "And Professor Quirrell will not be stuttering...babbling... next year."

It seems that Hermione is quite resentful of the professor's teaching style.

"I'm afraid not, Miss Granger." Dumbledore waved his wand and extracted the compressed solution in the pot from a hose.

"Why?"

"Voldemort is still hiding in a sewer, and he hates Quirinus now... If he continues to serve as the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, it would be like roasting Quirinus on the fire."

Now that the Philosopher's Stone has been destroyed, the potion that can be used to restore Voldemort's body is poured into Quirrell's mouth.

That is the thing of immortality, the living dead, the flesh and bones are just that...The headmasters on the wall stared at the potion, and at the same time admired Dumbledore's restraint of desire.

"If my old friend knew that he had saved an excellent professor while enjoying his old age, he would definitely spend his last time happily."

Quirrel's withered skin gradually began to become plump.

The next day, Nietzsche and Hermione, who were sleeping on the sofa, were awakened by the conversation between Dumbledore and Quirrell.

The two of them slept on the same sofa, feet facing each other, one facing each head.

"I will miss the years I spent as a professor on campus." Quirrell was polite to the principal first, "I still have some things to deal with outside, so I won't be back for the time being."

"You're not going to seek revenge on Voldemort again, are you?" Principal Dumbledore looked at the ceiling and laughed.

"How could that be... The gap is too big, I'm just visiting some friends."

Looking at Quirrell's self-deprecating smile, Dumbledore just stood up and patted him on the shoulder.

"I know that for young people like you who are unwilling to be mediocre, power and ideals are indeed very tempting, but it's better to have a limit. Not every time there are students like Holmes to help you back up."

Quirrel lowered his head in thought, his heart full of shame and embarrassment, and he didn't know what to say for a while, so he simply sat opposite Nietzsche and Hermione.