Ancient Wizards Return to Hogwarts...

Chapter 91: Dumbledore shouldn't be the only one setting questions.

What is the culprit who killed the unicorn and stole its carcass, according to the centaurs, doing now? Professor Quirrell is crawling in the shadows in a corner of the Forbidden Forest.

The spells cast by Daphne and Rice had caused him severe damage. He managed to run a short distance before he was completely exhausted and could no longer even walk upright.

"Useless!" A muffled roar came from inside Professor Quirrell's large turban. "You can't even handle this little thing, what good are you anyway?!"

Although the headscarf obscured the view, the anger and resentment in the voice were still clearly visible. The young wizards of Hogwarts could never have imagined that the usually timid Professor Quirrell harbored such a huge secret. If they knew that the owner of that voice was none other than the infamous Voldemort, countless people would faint from fright.

Quirrell shuddered and tried to defend himself: "Master, I..."

"Let me do it!" Before Quirrell could say a word, Voldemort took control of Quirrell's body from behind his head.

Voldemort used this body, which was not his own, without any restraint. Quirrell had become very cautious in his movements after being injured, for fear of aggravating his injuries, but Voldemort had no such concerns. He moved freely and unrestrainedly, as if he were completely uninjured.

Pain? Voldemort was already used to it. Every second since becoming a ghost was like being torn to pieces. This little bit of pain was nothing.

As for what Quirrell's body will become, what does that have to do with him? Ever since he possessed Quirrell's body, Quirrell has been a living dead.

All of Voldemort's promises to Quirrell, and all the beautiful visions he painted for him, were lies. Quirrell's fate was no different from that of the snakes and rats he had possessed. Once he had drained this body of its lifeblood, Quirrell would die; any further action would only delay that day.

Thanks to Voldemort's efforts, a dozen drops of silvery-blue blood slid from the wound. Daphne's act of turning unicorn blood into bullets, while injuring Quirrell, inadvertently provided him with some unicorn blood, prolonging his life.

After taking the blood, Quirrell's complexion improved significantly.

"Unfortunately, we've attracted too much attention, so we can no longer hunt unicorns in the Forbidden Forest," Voldemort said with regret.

Ever since possessing Quirrell, Voldemort had been plotting to seize the Philosopher's Stone that Dumbledore had hidden in the castle. He was oblivious to the unusual nature of the situation. Putting himself in Dumbledore's shoes, Voldemort believed that Dumbledore was nearing the end of his life, which was why he was so eager to ask his friend Nicolas Flamel for the Philosopher's Stone in order to prolong his life. The desire for the Philosopher's Stone, coupled with the weakness of his soul, overwhelmed Voldemort's reason, causing him to ignore all the illogicalities.

Through a series of methods, Quirrell finally figured out how to break through those guarded barriers. He just needed to wait for Voldemort on the back of his head to recover enough strength before he could take action.

Voldemort estimated that to regain sufficient power, he would need to hunt down at least two unicorns and drain their blood. Everything had been going smoothly, and they were supposed to retrieve the Philosopher's Stone after tonight. But this interruption meant their plan to seize the Stone would have to be postponed further.

"Master..." Quirrell murmured, as if he wanted to say something.

Ignoring Quirrell's voice, Voldemort proceeded to devise a new plan: "Unicorn blood is out of the question. What you need to do now is prepare potions using the recipes I gave you every day, take them on time, and wait until I've recovered some strength before we make our move..."

His voice gradually faded, but before falling asleep, Voldemort reattached Quirrell's severed arm and healed his other wounds.

Seeing his wounds healing rapidly and his severed limbs reattached, Quirrell was overjoyed: With such profound magical power, what couldn't his master do? Once he consumed the Philosopher's Stone and was reborn, he would receive a reward he could never have dreamed of!

Little did he know that everything he was seeing was at the cost of his life force. Quirrell appeared healthy, but beneath that fine exterior, his body was nearly hollowed out by Voldemort.

……

"An interesting experience." After Daphne finished recounting her encounter in the Forbidden Forest the previous night, Rice picked up a silver pot and asked Daphne, "Would you like some black tea?"

Daphne pursed her lips: she had thought her experience would surprise Rice, but he remained indifferent from beginning to end, as if he had experienced it all last night.

"The spell in your necklace is quite useful; without it, things would probably have been at a standstill for a while longer." Daphne didn't forget to praise the birthday gift Rice had given her; it had really been a great help last night.

Rice smiled slightly: Of course it works. This necklace is very difficult to make. He put in a lot of effort to make it.

While chatting casually with Daphne, he was also planning his next move.

Quirrell has started hunting unicorns, which means that the thing inside him is gathering power. I wonder when he'll go and steal the Philosopher's Stone? Daphne interrupted his hunting activities; will that affect Quirrell's plans?

All signs indicated that Quirrell, or rather the thing inside him, was probably about to lose his temper, and Rice felt he should do something before him.

After all, Harry Potter wasn't the only one taking the "final exam"; Daphne was too, and Dumbledore shouldn't be the only one setting the questions.

"By the way, are we going to the library later? Finals are in a few weeks, shouldn't we make a study plan?"

Rice stared intently at Daphne with the look one would give a strange creature until she lowered her head.

Final exam review? Me?! Miss Greengrass, don't you want to see what you're saying?

For Rice, getting full marks or zero marks makes no difference. If it weren't for the fact that missing an exam would be too conspicuous, he wouldn't even want to take the exam. If only someone could take the exam for him... Wait, what?!

Rice narrowed his eyes.

"I have some things to do this afternoon, so I'll be going now. You go ahead with your business." Rice pushed his plate aside and left the restaurant, stopping Daphne from following him—this time he was going to act alone.

Alone, Rice returned to the secret chamber and entered a secret room within it. This was his own potion-making laboratory, where potions he didn't want Daphne to know about were prepared.

If Quirrell were to stumble upon this place by chance, he would be astonished, for on Rice's lab table lay five stones that looked remarkably like Philosopher's Stones! In a cauldron beside them, a pot full of blood-red liquid was boiling, and within the liquid, a stone that looked exactly like the real Philosopher's Stone was bobbing up and down.

Rice went into his laboratory, took the stone out of the crucible, and squinted to examine it carefully.

In Rice's view, this stone cannot have the slightest flaw.

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

Update delivered, goodnight everyone~

(End of this chapter)