The person is at Hogwarts, but the system is in Middle-earth!

Harry felt his heart pounding. He gripped his wand tightly, stepped through the black flames, and entered the room.

Inside the room, the Mirror of Erised, which they had seen by chance before, stood in the center of the room, and in front of the mirror stood a person who heard the sound, turned around and saw Harry barging in!

This isn't Snape. It's Quirrell!

"It's you!" Harry exclaimed in shock. "It can't be you! Snape...?"

"Severus?" Quirrell laughed at Harry's words, his usual stuttering and timid demeanor completely gone. "Yes, Severus is indeed a nuisance, isn't he? With him around, flying around like a bat, he's certainly very useful. Who would doubt the stuttering, poor Professor Quirrell?"

Harry's mind was in complete disarray. This completely overturned his understanding of the world.

"But Snape tried to kill me that day in Quidditch..."

"No, my dear child, it was I who wanted to kill you," Quirrell said coldly. "If Snape hadn't kept casting the Counterspell to try and save you, I would have killed you long ago. And that Hufflepuff who just keeps banging things around with his frying pan... someone suddenly threw a rock at me that day, breaking my chair and interrupting my spellcasting, otherwise I would have succeeded! I bet it was that weirdo Hufflepuff who did it!"

As he was speaking, Quirrell suddenly snapped his fingers. Ropes appeared out of thin air and bound Harry tightly.

"Now, quiet down, Potter. I need to see how to use this damn mirror."

Quirrell went behind the mirror, then back, staring at the image in the mirror.

"I saw that I offered the Philosopher's Stone to my master... but where is it? Is it hidden in the mirror? Or should I break the mirror too?"

Harry struggled desperately to loosen the ropes, but to no avail.

"Use that child..." a shrill voice suddenly rang out, seemingly coming from Quirrell's body.

"Yes, Master."

Quirrell turned around, snapped his fingers, and Harry's ropes immediately came loose.

"Come here, Potter! Stand here."

Harry was forced to go over there.

"Look in the mirror and tell me what you see."

Harry stood in front of the mirror. At first, he only saw his pale face. But soon, he smiled in the mirror. Harry in the mirror reached into his pants pocket, pulled out a bright red stone, waved it triumphantly, and then put it back in his pocket.

In that instant, Harry felt a heavy weight in his actual pants pocket.

Somehow—he actually got the Philosopher's Stone!

"What did you see?" Quirrell urged impatiently.

Harry forced himself to keep his eyes on Quirrell so that he wouldn't notice anything unusual about the pocket.

"I saw...I saw myself shaking hands with Dumbledore," he made up on the spot, "and I...I won the House Cup."

"He's lying..." the shrill voice rang out again.

"Potter! Tell the truth!" Quirrell roared.

"Let me speak to him...face to face..."

"But, Master, your strength hasn't recovered yet..."

"I have enough power..."

Harry watched in horror as Quirrell began to untie his headscarf. The purple hood fell away layer by layer, and Quirrell turned away.

Harry let out a scream.

On the back of Quirrell's head was this face. It was as white as chalk, with glowing red eyes and nostrils that were just two thin slits like a snake's.

"Harry Potter..." the face whispered, "Look what I've become..."

"I'm just a wandering soul, without even a physical form... I can only have a physical form when I share a body with someone else... but there are always people who are willing to let me into their hearts and minds..."

"The unicorn's blood restored some of my strength... Once I obtain the elixir of immortality, I will be able to have my own body..."

The terrifying face stared at Harry, and a seductive voice rang out: "Don't be foolish, child. I know the stone is in your pocket. Give it to me... or do you want to end up like your dead parents? They begged me for their lives before they died..."

"You're lying!" Harry roared.

"Don't try to fool me!" Voldemort screamed furiously. "Kill him! Enough talk!"

Quirrell lunged forward and grabbed Harry by the neck.

Harry felt as if his scar was about to burst, but at the same time, he heard Quirrell let out a piercing scream.

"Ahhh! My hand! My hand!"

Quirrell loosened his grip and stared in horror at his palm, which felt as if it had been branded with a red-hot iron, with the skin rapidly blistering and festering.

"Grab him! Don't let him get away!" Voldemort roared.

Quirrell lunged again, and Harry instinctively reached out and grabbed Quirrell's wrist tightly. Another wave of intense pain washed over Quirrell, who writhed on the ground in agony, but seemingly unable to disobey Voldemort's orders, he continued to struggle, trying to cast a spell on Harry.

Harry's vision began to blur. The excruciating pain from the scar nearly made him faint.

In his last moments before losing consciousness, he seemed to hear a rapid flapping of wings—the sound of some kind of hope...

...

Meanwhile, in the potion room.

Lowe is facing his own "war".

[Environmental Warning: High Concentration of Toxic Gas]

[Sanity value continues to decrease...]

[Status: Mild poisoning, moderate hallucinations]

He hid behind the alchemy table, gripping the frying pan tightly in his hand.

"Cough cough..."

Rowe felt the scene before him begin to distort. The flickering flames no longer appeared to him as flames, but as the shadowy figures of ferocious orcs.

"Don't even think about getting through!" He waved his hand in the air a few times and roared, "This is the gate to Helm's Deep, I'm not afraid of you..."

[Enemy Unit Detection: Shadowfiend (Illusion)]

Quantity: Infinite

"Come on!" Rowe roared, leaping to his feet and unleashing a jumping slash at the empty room. "Take this from my Dwarf Iron Pot!"

"when!"

The frying pan smashed against the stone wall, sparks flying everywhere.

But in Rowe's system filter, he had just smashed a powerful orc's helmet.

"Harry's still inside..." He leaned against the wall, panting heavily. "I'm the last line of defense for the Fellowship of the Ring... I can't fall..."

Screams and the sound of heavy objects falling could be faintly heard from the next room.

"That's... Frodo fighting..." Rowe wanted to rush over, but as soon as he took a step, his legs felt as heavy as lead, and he fell to his knees.

The effects of the poison gas were more severe than he had imagined.

[Warning: Health below 40%]

[Recommendation: Evacuate immediately]

"I have nowhere to go even if I want to leave!" Rowe gritted his teeth, using the frying pan under his body to barely keep from collapsing. "Hermione, I hope you can hurry!"

His vision grew increasingly blurry, and the surrounding darkness seemed to come alive, pressing in on him.

He seemed to see countless red eyes flickering in the flames.

"Soren...you can't win..." Rowe murmured to himself, his consciousness gradually fading.

Just as he was about to be completely engulfed in darkness, he heard hurried footsteps and the sound of wings flapping.

"That's..." Luo Wei struggled to open his eyelids.

Through his blurry vision, he saw a giant golden-red bird fly overhead with a dazzling light, followed by several blurry human figures.

[Reinforcements Arrive: Giant Eagle]

[Ally: Gandalf the White (Dumbledore)]

"It seems... reinforcements have finally arrived..."

A smile tugged at the corners of Luo Wei's mouth as he completely lost consciousness, but he remained kneeling, like a statue guarding the only path leading to the last room.

...

When Hermione led Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall into the room, they saw Rowe, the Hufflepuff first-year student, kneeling between two deadly magical flames. His face was blackened by smoke, and he still gripped a deformed frying pan tightly in his hand, standing like a loyal guardian in the middle of the path.

"Love!" Hermione screamed and lunged at him.

Dumbledore strode forward, glanced at Rowe kneeling on the ground, and his blue eyes flashed with approval and a hint of heartache.

"Minerva, take good care of Mr. Baggins."

Dumbledore didn't stop. He raised his wand and swung it fiercely at the black flame in front of him.

boom!

The black flame, capable of devouring even light, was instantly torn open in front of the greatest white wizard.

Dumbledore, like an angry lion, charged straight into the last room.

A few seconds later, a terrifying shriek echoed from within, the roar of Voldemort's furious and resentful soul. This was followed by a violent surge of magic, causing the entire dungeon to tremble.

Then, everything returned to calm.

Dumbledore emerged from the flames.

He held the unconscious Harry in his arms. Behind him, the silver Patronus Phoenix was supporting the equally unconscious Rowe.

"Professor! Harry..." Hermione rushed forward, her eyes brimming with tears.

"He's alive, Miss Granger." Dumbledore looked at the brave boy in his arms, then glanced back at Rowe floating behind him. "They're all alive. Voldemort has escaped."

Professor McGonagall looked at the two first-year students, their bodies covered in wounds, her handkerchief covering her mouth, her eyes slightly red: "Albus, they're just children..."

"Yes, they are still children," Dumbledore murmured, "but tonight, they did what even adult wizards dared not do."

He looked at Luo Wei's hand, which was tightly gripping the frying pan, a stubbornness that hadn't let go even when he was unconscious.

"One faced the Dark Lord head-on, and the other guarded Helm's Deep."

Although Dumbledore didn't fully understand the meaning of the word, he could sense the heavy determination behind it.

Dumbledore said softly, "Let's go, take them to the school hospital. The fighting is over for tonight."