32: Voldemort and the Backstab

32: Voldemort and the Backstab

John was satisfied after finishing everything. He cast another Disillusionment Charm on himself.

The Disillusionment Charm Level 4 was no less powerful than the Aurors of the Ministry of Magic.

He took out the fireproof potion and drank it, then walked into the fire.

It was like drinking ice water, the fireproof potion penetrated his whole body at once.

The flames licked his body, but there was no burning sensation.

John continued to move forward along the flames, passing the purple flames and reaching the black flames.

He could feel that the fireproof potion on his body was disappearing quickly, so he quickened his pace and left the black flames before the effect disappeared.

In front of him was the last room.

At the same time, there were already two people in it.

When John saw the tall man, his body tensed up.

It was Quirrell.

And the person besides Quirrell was Harry.

"What's wrong with this mirror? What is its function? Help me, Master!"

"Use that boy... Use that boy..."

"Potter, come here!"

Quirrell seemed to be talking to himself and asking, John walked towards the room, his steps slow.

He knew that now was not a good time. Voldemort had not appeared yet, so he could not make a move.

What made John even more curious was how Quirrell survived.

It had to be said that this man's life was like a cockroach.

His breath was even weaker, and he exuded a strong stench of decay.

It was as if the person in front of him was not a living person, but a corpse.

Harry was held hostage by Quirrell and brought to the mirror. At this moment, Harry thought a lot.

He did not expect that Snape, who he thought was a bad guy, was actually protecting himself, and that Quirrell, the victim, was the real bad guy.

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

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

Harry in the mirror blinked at him and put the Philosopher's Stone into his pocket.

Only Harry knew all this, and no one else knew it even if Quirrell was next to him.

Harry began to lie with a straight face: "I saw myself shaking hands with Dumbledore, everyone is praising me and Grefindore has won the House Cup."

Quirrell was so furious that he did not get what he wanted.

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

Harry stepped back to the side. The Philosopher's Stone was in his pocket. He wanted to take this opportunity to escape.

But he had only taken five steps when he heard the voice that Quirrell had used when he was asking and answering himself.

"He's lying!"

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

This kid was hailed as the savior. He defeated the great Dark Lord Voldemort when he was a baby! Haha! What a hypocritical liar.

He wanted to torture this child, the one who was called the savior by the world.

"Look at you, child. Your parents were very brave back then. I always admire courage."

"I killed your father first, but he would rather die than surrender. He bravely fought me. Your mother didn't have to die, but she risked her life to protect you. What a stupid thing to do. And look at you now. She really died for nothing"

Harry felt that the scar on his forehead was more painful than ever, and his mind seemed to flash back to the memories of his childhood.

That green light and the suffocating laughter.

"No, Voldemort, she didn't die for nothing!" He shouted.

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

"Look at this scar, the lie of the savior, do you really think of yourself as a savior?"

The wand moved on the scar, causing Harry to wail in pain.

Voldemort's smile gradually twisted, and he also felt that his body was dying quickly.

Without the soul of its original owner, Quirrell's body was turning into a corpse.

Voldemort raised the Philosopher's Stone above his head, and the bright red stone emitted a light. He raised his wand to put an end to Harry.

Harry's breathing became rapid, and he stared at Voldemort. Was he really going to die like this?

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

Before taking action, Voldemort remembered a scene twelve years ago and hesitated.

He reached out and touched Harry's body, and bubbles quickly rose on this weak body.

With the existence of that magic, Voldemort could not hurt Harry.

This made him very unwilling.

Voldemort regretted letting Quirrell die too early.

With the Philosopher's Stone in hand, he knew he should leave and take the Philosopher's Stone away before Dumbledore came.

"Don't leave!"

Harry shouted angrily but to no avail. Voldemort was walking towards the door step by step in front of him.

Harry growled, feeling powerless in his heart.

Just as Voldemort was about to leave, John, who had been hiding, took action.

Voldemort was only an arm's length away from John.

At this distance, John attacked decisively.

The sword swung with a brilliant silver light.

He stabbed him in the ass—ehm—back!

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