HP Approaches the Magical World

The screen unfolds slowly.

Harry turned his back to the screen, and in their field of vision, they could just see Quirrell's smile.

Now, his face didn't twitch at all.

"It's me," Quirrell's calm voice came from the mirror: "I was just wondering if I would meet you here, Potter."

"But I thought—Snape—"

Even if he could only see the back of Harry's head, Jon could feel his surprise. When he raised his hand, he touched his beard, and then he remembered that his appearance was now Dumbledore.

I hadn't noticed that Dumbledore was so tall before, and it didn't seem to be of any use to discover this now.

"Snape?"

Quirrell's laughter from the mirror was not his usual shrill trill, but a chilling sneer.

"Yeah, Snape sure doesn't look like a nice guy, does he? He's flying around like a giant bat, which helps us a lot. With him in there, who'd doubt— —but—poor, sta—st—stuttering Quirrell—professor?"

"But Snape tried to kill me!"

Harry said in shock that she couldn't accept the answer.

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

"Snape trying to save me?"

"Of course it is," said Quirrell coldly. "Why do you say he's refereeing your second match? It's absurd that he wants to make sure I don't hurt you again—he doesn't need to bother, I can't do anything with Dumbledore around.

The other teachers thought Snape was trying to prevent Gryffindor from winning, and he had made himself quite unpopular indeed. It's all a waste of time though, and I'm going to kill you tonight anyway. "

Quirrell snapped his fingers, and in an instant, several ropes rushed over out of thin air, binding Harry tightly.

Stephen raised the wand in his hand reflexively, trying to help Harry, but Jon stopped him.

"Don't move, watch, Quirrell won't do anything to him, and write down the scene here and the content of the conversation with peace of mind."

With a push in the air, a piece of parchment escaped from the concealment of his defensive magic and appeared between the two of them.

He wasn't worried about Harry's safety at all, and he saw in them the confusion that was typical of Voldemort, reflected in the glasses.

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

"You let that troll in?"

"Of course, I have a special way of dealing with trolls—you must have seen how I taught that fellow in that room over there?

unfortunately,

When everyone was in a hurry looking for the troll, Snape, who had already become suspicious of me, rushed to the fourth floor and tried to stop me—not only did my troll fail to kill you, but even the three-headed troll The big dog didn't bite off Snape's leg either.

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

...

Outside, Jon explained.

"That mirror," the Mirror of Erised, said Jon, "is what Dumbledore used to keep the Philosopher's Stone."

It was a very imposing mirror, reaching to the ceiling, framed in gold, and supported by two claw-shaped feet.

Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi is engraved on the top, and it shows us nothing more or less than the deepest, most desperate desire of our hearts in reverse. It can make people see the most urgent and strongest in their hearts eager.

If given the chance, Jon would also like to take a look.

...

"This mirror is the key to find the Philosopher's Stone," Quirrell murmured in the picture, and he knocked along the surrounding mirror frame with his hand.

"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."

Harry was writhing nervously in the picture, talking constantly.

"I saw you and Snape in the Forbidden Forest—"

"That's right,"

Quirrell said lazily, turning to the back of the magic mirror to check, "He was already staring at me at that time, wanting to know how far I had gone, he was suspicious of me all the time, he wanted to scare me—in fact, he How can I be scared, with the Dark Lord as my backing?"

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

"I have seen the Philosopher's Stone, and I am presenting 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 kept talking, trying to prevent Quirrell from paying full attention to the magic mirror.

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

"Oh, he does hate you,"

Quirrell said casually, "You didn't know that he was studying at Hogwarts with your father, did you? They hated each other and were at odds with each other, but he never wanted you to die."

"But I heard you crying a few days ago - 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—he is a great wizard, and I am so weak—"

"Did you mean that it was he who was with you in the classroom at that time?"

Harry asked in surprise.

"He was with me wherever I went," said Quirrell calmly. "I met him when I was traveling around the world, when I was a foolish lad with an absurd sense of right and wrong. The idea is that Lord Voldemort pointed out my mistakes. There is no good or evil in the world, only power, and those incompetent people who cannot gain power. Since then, I have served him faithfully, but I also have many He was disappointed once.

—He has been very strict with me. "

Quirrell cursed under his breath.

"I wonder if the Philosopher's Stone is hidden in the mirror? Should I break the mirror?"

He obviously couldn't find the knack to open it, but someone did.

In the picture created by the mirror, Voldemort's hoarse voice suddenly came out.

"Use that boy, use that boy."

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