Hogwarts: Undercover Death Eater Replaces the Dark Lord

"Lex, what do you think?" Draco was very depressed that no one paid attention to him, and came over to find someone who would pay attention to him.

However, he found that Lycos was also indifferent, staring straight at the sky.

Above the pitch, Harry's broom became very abnormal - the broom twitched and twisted wildly all the way, slowly rising higher and higher, pushing Harry away from the field.

"What's Pott doing?" Draco muttered, holding up the binoculars. "Isn't he really unable to control his broom? But that shouldn't be the case. I said he would fall off just to satisfy my curiosity..."

Suddenly, as Lycos and Draco watched, they noticed that Harry's broomstick began to tumble and roll, and he was barely holding on to it.

More and more young wizards noticed this and looked up in surprise, only to see the flying broom twisting wildly again -

Harry was thrown off by it and was now hanging precariously in the air, clinging to the broom handle with one hand.

"No way, I really got it right?"

Draco took down the telescope in disbelief and looked at the ground of the Quidditch field: "But there is no one holding up the blanket to catch him..."

"How many layers of quilts would be needed to catch him if he fell from such a high place?" Lycos sighed.

He stood up and walked to the railing, looking at the stands where the professors were.

In the stands, Snape was standing in front of the middle seat, his eyes fixed on Harry, muttering to himself, his expression extremely nervous.

And Quirrell was not far from him, looking up at Harry, as if he was worried that he would fall from the sky... but Lycos knew very well that he had his wand tightly clenched in his hand and was silently casting a spell on Harry's broom.

Behind Lycos and Draco, Crabbe and Goyle were still laughing foolishly, gloating over Harry's misfortune, but were glared at by Draco instead.

"What are you laughing at?!"

Draco scolded, and neither Crabbe nor Goyle understood why he was being so loud.

"Potter is dead if he falls from this height! I'll never have a chance of defeating him again. Do you understand?"

Although the two fat boys didn't understand, in order to avoid being scolded, they pretended to understand and nodded.

"Flint bumped into Potter during the game just now. Was his broom broken at that time?" Draco also walked to the railing of the stands and leaned close to Lecos and asked in a low voice.

"This is the Nimbus 2000 Professor McGonagall just bought for Potter. Do you think it's possible?" Lycos glanced at him. "If this kind of broom broke so easily, the Quidditch pitch would have been turned into a mass grave long ago."

"Yeah, I have some impression of that..."

Draco scratched his sleek, light-blond hair in confusion.

"When that Quidditch boutique in Diagon Alley sold me the broom, they kept saying...it was enchanted with multiple advanced protective spells to protect it from moisture, impact, and damage."

"But why is that? Could it be that I bought a fake?"

Lycos shook his head, his eyes still fixed on the professor's stand.

"You don't need to know this." He said softly, "Don't worry, the professors are here anyway, Potter won't die."

"Who's worried about him?" Draco said stubbornly. "It would be better if he fell to his death. I just feel bad that I've lost an opponent. It's made me lose the motivation to learn magic!"

Lycos glanced at him and then laughed.

The eldest son of the Malfoy family really cares about the savior!

High in the air, Harry's broom was vibrating more and more violently, and he could no longer find the strength to hold on to the broom.

The audience all stood up and looked up in horror.

The Weasley twins flew up and tried to pull Harry onto one of their brooms, but they were having trouble - every time they got close, Harry's broom would soar higher.

Marcus Flint tactlessly caught the Quaffle and threw it five times into the door knocker, but no one paid him any attention...

Finally, just when Harry was about to collapse, Lecos saw a little brown-haired witch in the professor's stand.

……

Chapter 50 Lycos criticizes Quirrell, and Voldemort expresses his support

Just like the original plot trajectory, it seems that the three little ones still have doubts about Snape.

Lycos grabbed Draco's telescope and saw the little brown-haired witch, Hermione Granger, struggling to make her way through the crowd to the stands where the professors were, and moving quickly along the row of seats behind Snape.

She knocked Quirrell so hard that he fell headfirst into the front row of seats and rolled next to Professor Flitwick in the first row. The purple headscarf on the back of his head hit the railing of the stand heavily...

"Hiss..." Lycos took a breath.

Voldemort, who had suffered so much, was hit by Fred and George's snowballs a few days ago, and now he was hit hard - this was much harder than a snowball.

Quirrell was afraid he was going to suffer.

When Lycos turned his gaze back to Hermione, he found that she had come to Snape's side, squatted down, and then a handful of bright blue flames jumped out of her wand and rushed towards the hem of Snape's robes...

In fact, when Quirrell fell, the evil curse that Quirrell had cast on Harry's broom had almost disappeared because the caster stopped casting the spell.

But none of the three little ones paid attention to when Harry's broom was restored. They all thought it was because Hermione burned Snape's robes...

It was about thirty seconds before Snape realized he was on fire.

By this time, Harry had managed to climb back onto his broomstick, and before Quirrell could cast another spell, he dived back to the ground and spat out the Golden Snitch, which represented the end of the game.

Seeing this, Lycos knew that it was over.

He looked at Quirrell, whose face had turned pale, and suddenly an idea came to him - perhaps he could use this opportunity to control his own destiny this semester...

……

That afternoon after the Quidditch match, Quirrell was kneeling in his office, receiving a lecture from Voldemort.

"Master, I...I was so close to success. Getting knocked down was a complete accident!"

Quirrell covered his forehead and screamed miserably.

"You idiot! You can't even do this!" Voldemort's hoarse, sharp voice echoed throughout the room. "And who gave you permission to attack Potter on your own?"

"You know my target is the Philosopher's Stone!"

"As long as I have the Philosopher's Stone, what threat can a teenager pose to me?"

Voldemort was furious. He felt extremely humiliated by being hit in the face by a snowball and then by the railing.

"Master... Master, I'm... I'm trying to help you, aren't I?" Quirrell said tremblingly. "As long as you kill Potter, your destined enemy, the prophecy will be broken, right?"

However, in fact, his fundamental purpose was not for Voldemort, but for himself.

During this period, Quirrell was tortured continuously by Voldemort, making him miserable and wanting to die.

He felt that if this continued, even if Voldemort had not yet completely absorbed his vitality, his spirit would collapse first...

"Bang bang bang-"

Just then, there was a sudden knock on the door of the Defense Against the Dark Arts office.

Quirrell suddenly fell silent, swallowing all his cries, excuses, and sobs. He took out his wand tremblingly and removed the soundproofing spell on the office door.

He was afraid that Professor McGonagall or Dumbledore would become suspicious of him and come to interrogate him...

"Who...who is...out there?"

Quirrell adjusted his turban to hide Voldemort's hideous face and resumed his usual stuttering tone.

"Professor Quirrell, it's me."

A young voice came in.

Quirrell breathed a sigh of relief, stood up from the carpet, and sat back in his office chair.

"Come in." He waved his wand and the office door opened a crack.

Lycos, with black hair and dark golden eyes, walked into the office and sat down on the sofa beside him.

"Lex, what are you doing here?" Quirrell frowned, trying to act like an elder and professor and put pressure on Lycos.

His mind was still spinning rapidly, thinking about how to shift some of the blame onto Lycos and alleviate the Dark Lord's anger towards him.

"I'm here to question you." Lycos sat on the sofa and looked at him expressionlessly.

"You? Questioning me?" Quirrell seemed a little bit unable to believe his ears, and looked at Lycos's face with amusement, "Lycos, are you kidding me?"

"I'm not joking with you," Lycos responded coldly, "Does the Dark Lord know who ordered you to attack Harry Potter?"

"Are you teaching me how to do things, Lycos?" Quirrell's face darkened. "Don't forget your identity. You are just one of my students."

"Don't forget your identity, Quirrell. You are just a latecomer."

Lycos responded without hesitation, "I have been by the Dark Lord's side for many years and am his most trusted person. You are merely his temporary tool."

"You!" Quirrell slammed the table and stood up from his chair.

"My weight in the Dark Lord's heart is definitely much more important than yours..." Lycos stood up, a playful smile on his face, "Isn't that right, Professor Quirrell?"

Although his words seemed very bold, his attention was all focused on the purple turban on Quirrell's head, and he felt quite nervous...

According to Voldemort, Lycos helped him a lot in the Albanian forest and was the young wizard he most admired...

But before the final conclusion, Lycos still couldn't be sure that the Dark Lord would stand up for him.

"Young man, don't be too proud!"

Quirrell gripped his wand tightly, as if ready to cast a spell at any moment to teach the little wizard in front of him a lesson.

"The master has entrusted me with the leadership of this operation. His trust in me doesn't need to be proven by you!"

However, the next moment, his movements froze.

"Be quiet, Quirinus..." Voldemort's hoarse voice came from inside his turban. "Lexus is right. He is the young wizard I trust the most. You are just a latecomer."

"Untie the headscarf. I want to see what my most trusted little one wants to say."

"Master, you..." Qi Luo was still unwilling.

"I said, take off your turban!" Voldemort's voice suddenly became louder.

Quirrell shuddered, raised his hand in fear, removed his turban, and turned so that Voldemort's face was facing Lycos.

"Very good, you are worthy of being someone I value."

An ugly smile appeared on that ferocious face.

"You're very courageous, Lycos... Tell me, you came here suddenly, what do you want to say to me..."

……