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Chapter 223: Voldemort's Recruitment
Chapter 223: Voldemort's Recruitment
About half an hour later, Quirrell finally arrived at the room with the Three-Headed Dog, limping and making his way to the obstacle set by Snape.
However, he looked strange, as if he had aged several decades overnight, with a pale face and wrinkles all over.
Quirrell also seemed to be severely injured, emitting a strong smell of blood from all over his body, and he gritted his teeth in pain with every step.
As Quirrell entered the room, the previously extinguished Magic Flame reignited.
He stumbled to the table with the potions and picked up the parchment, reading it carefully.
"...the Giant and the Dwarf do not have the Death Eater.
The second on the left and the second on the right, although they look different, have the same taste."
A smile slowly appeared on Quirrell's face.
Snape, that fool, thought he couldn't reason...how ridiculous, he was an excellent student who graduated from Ravenclaw with eight "O"s.
Compared to finding the key, playing chess, and fighting the giant, this was what he excelled at.
Quirrell conjured a quill, dipped it in his own blood, and began to calculate.
"I know!" Quirrell exclaimed excitedly: "This smallest bottle will allow me to pass through the black flames and obtain the Philosopher's Stone."
Without hesitation, he picked up the unassuming small bottle and drank a mouthful.
"Ugh..."
Quirrell had thought that nothing could be worse than facing dozens of Mandrakes, but now he discovered he was wrong.
As soon as his lips touched the potion, a vile taste flooded his mouth, like having three hundred giants dancing inside.
The compost in the greenhouse smelled sweeter than this concoction.
The mental torment made Quirrell's face even more unsightly, and he drank only one mouthful before spitting the potion back onto the table.
"Damn Snape!"
Quirrell covered his stomach with one hand and his mouth with the other, stumbling through the black flames.
"Wait...just you wait, once I get the Philosopher's Stone and revive the Dark Lord, whether it's Sprout or Snape, they'll all die!"
Quirrell seethed in his heart, entering the final room.
But he was shocked to find someone already there...not Snape, nor Dumbledore.
"Harry Potter!"
Quirrell gasped in astonishment.
"It's me, Professor," the "Harry" in the room said, turning around with a slightly panicked tone: "I was just worried that I'd run into the Professor here, and now you've arrived..."
"Wait. Professor Quirrell, how did you get so badly injured? Don't worry, I'll take you to the Hospital Wing right away."
As he spoke, he walked towards Quirrell.
"Stand still and don't move!" Quirrell drew his wand and shouted: "Now, hand over the Philosopher's Stone!"
Quirrell felt his mind was in a mess, extremely chaotic.
He had anticipated countless scenarios...such as how to fight Snape or how to beg for mercy from Dumbledore.
But Quirrell had never thought that Harry Potter would arrive before him, and by the looks of it, had been waiting here for a long time.
How did this boy, who should be dead, manage to get through those Mandrakes?!
"The Philosopher's Stone? What nonsense are you talking about?"
"Harry" asked in confusion: "Isn't the final reward this mirror? Professor, you have to take a look; this mirror is truly magical. I saw myself shaking hands with Dumbledore and becoming the Minister of Magic."
"I bet it can predict the future!"
Chiro looked at the Erised Mirror with a mixture of belief and skepticism.
He wanted to take a closer look, but before he could take five steps, a shrill voice spoke up.
"He's lying... He's lying..."
"Potter, don't move!" Chiro immediately raised his wand and shouted, "My patience is limited. Hand over the Philosopher's Stone quickly!"
The shrill voice spoke again.
"You fool, haven't you figured it out yet? He's not Harry Potter!"
"Not Harry Potter?" Chiro examined him closely once more.
Messy hair, a scar on his forehead, and a pair of round-framed glasses... It was definitely Potter.
"Let me talk to him... Face to face..."
"Master, but you've already wasted a lot of energy at the Mandrakes, and you need to rest now!"
"Thanks to your help... I still have some strength left..."
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"It's my honor, Master!"
Chiro bent down, untied the scarf that was haphazardly wrapped around his head, and then slowly turned around, revealing the terrifying face on the back of his head.
The face was as pale as chalk, with bright red eyes that emitted light, and beneath them were two slender nostrils that resembled a snake.
"You don't seem surprised at all..." he whispered.
"Chiro wouldn't dare come to steal the Philosopher's Stone alone. He doesn't have the guts."
"Harry" said calmly, "But I didn't expect you to appear in this way... Lord Voldemort."
"You know me..." Voldemort seemed a bit surprised.
"It's obvious, isn't it?"
"By the way, how did you find out I'm not Harry Potter? I think my disguise is quite authentic."
"The clothes..." Voldemort said in a hoarse voice, "Harry Potter would never wear a Slytherin emblem!"
"What a pity... But there's nothing I can do about it. I would never wear that stupid lion emblem either."
Kyle took off his glasses and tossed them aside. They bounced on the ground a few times before transforming back into a Bertie Bott's Every-Flavor Bean.
Headmaster Sarcia had given him a lot of potions, including a large bottle of Polyjuice Potion.
Getting hold of Harry's clothes wasn't difficult, or rather, it was very easy. If Kyle wanted to, he could trick Harry out of his pants.
But there was no need for that.
"Who are you..." Voldemort said with interest, "Malfoy... Nott... Or Selwyn..."
"Don't guess, Mr. Voldemort." Kyle spread his hands and said, "Since I used the Polyjuice Potion, I certainly don't want anyone to know who I am."
"You have courage, and you're also cunning... Your mind is very clear. Slytherin has produced another outstanding young wizard."
Voldemort's interest grew as he looked at Kyle and said in a highly persuasive tone, "You're truly much better than Chiro, that useless waste... Come, follow me, and help me obtain the Philosopher's Stone... I will grant you unimaginable power and wealth!"
"Master..." Chiro looked slightly aggrieved and stammered, "I am your most loyal servant."
He was the one who came first, whether it was in the forests of Albania or in those perilous trials...
The one who had always been helping the Dark Lord was him, not the person standing before him, whose name he didn't even know.
...
(End of Chapter)
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