Hogwarts Card System Chapter 092

Voldemort was getting anxious now!

That little brat Ted was right; Dumbledore, that old fossil, had probably caught on.

He had to get the Philosopher’s Stone quickly and get out of here!

“Quirrell, snap out of it! Grab Longbottom and make him look in the mirror! The Philosopher’s Stone is in the mirror! Hurry!” Voldemort spoke through gritted teeth.

However, Professor Quirrell was truly disheartened. He didn’t move.

Voldemort alone couldn’t drive this tattered body anymore.

“Get up! Hurry, you useless lump! Move yourself!”

Voldemort was completely impolite to Professor Quirrell now, almost treating him as a disposable item, nothing like his behavior in the Albanian forest.

A true scumbag’s style—once he had it, he didn’t care anymore.

But what else could Professor Quirrell do? He had completely given up. If he had to die, he might as well save some energy.

However, Voldemort roared, his entire face struggling violently on the back of Quirrell’s head, the edges where his face connected to Quirrell’s scalp tearing open as if they were about to rip apart.

“Ah! No! No! Master! I’ll move~ I’ll move~” Quirrell, who had intended to lie down and give up, was moved by Voldemort’s “painful lashing.” Lying down and waiting for death like this was impossible!

Quirrell, with a wrinkled, tear-streaked old face, staggered to his feet and grabbed the stiff Neville, who was lying on the ground.

“Get up, look at the mirror.” Professor Quirrell sounded a bit weak and lacking in confidence, like someone with kidney deficiency.

He genuinely felt that he was finished, that he was about to die. He also sensed Voldemort’s impatience and indifference.

He was now a mix of regret and fear, almost going mad!

He couldn’t even die now; he had to be squeezed for his last bit of value. He was too cruel!

Meanwhile, Neville couldn’t move his body and could only stare wide-eyed at the Mirror of Erised before him.

Don’t let the Philosopher’s Stone appear, don’t let the Philosopher’s Stone appear, don’t let Voldemort get it, don’t let Voldemort get it!

Neville screamed madly in his heart.

However, things went against his wishes. The more he feared something, the more it came to pass.

The mirror didn’t show his parents as it usually did; instead, it showed himself.

The Neville in the mirror smiled, holding an irregular red crystal, which he tucked into his right trouser pocket, patting it, and winking at himself outside the mirror.

Then Neville felt his right trouser pocket sink, as if something had been added to it.

Oh no! Oh no! Neville’s heart sank to the bottom.

As Voldemort had said, the Philosopher’s Stone was indeed hidden within the Mirror of Erised, and Dumbledore had cast a spell setting a condition: only those who wished to protect the Philosopher’s Stone, not use it, could obtain it from the mirror.

This was a very spiritual setting.

The Mirror of Erised could sense the desires deep within people’s hearts, ensuring it wouldn’t be fooled by ordinary magic.

And anyone who harbored intentions for the Philosopher’s Stone would not be able to find it in the mirror.

At least Ted couldn’t get the Philosopher’s Stone from the mirror.

Voldemort had discovered this, which was why he hadn’t immediately killed Neville, the boy who had saved him.

Now, he was using Neville to find the Philosopher’s Stone!

Ted, who had been hiding for half a day, had already chugged a bottle of mana potion to restore his magic—blue liquid, tasty liquid~

To concoct this stuff, Ted had tried four times, nearly exhausting the ingredients Harry had “borrowed” from Snape. Finally, with Hermione’s help, he succeeded in making it; there were only three bottles in total.

At this moment, Quirrell, trembling, clutched the back of Neville’s neck, sniffled, and, weeping, yelled in a resentful tone, “Quick, tell me, where is the Philosopher’s Stone?!”

“There isn’t! There’s no Philosopher’s Stone!” Neville retorted.

“Quick! Tell me!” Professor Quirrell felt his life draining away, death approaching, and his mind was about to break.

“No! I didn’t see it. Give up! I just… I just saw myself winning the House Cup for Gryffindor!” Neville was still stubborn, even clumsily lying.

However, Voldemort was a master Legilimens. He could distinguish Neville’s lie just from his tone.

“He’s lying!” Voldemort said. “Let me, let me face him!”

Quirrell could only turn around, looking at Neville with the back of his head.

It was then that Neville saw Voldemort’s face head-on. What an ugly face it was, like a noseless skin mask glued to the back of Quirrell’s head, his features no longer human!

This was the great enemy who had murdered his parents! Neville mustered his courage and glared at him.

But it was useless. To Voldemort, Neville’s little head was like an unlocked safe, open for casual inspection.

In the three seconds Neville was disgusted by his face, Voldemort discovered Neville’s little secret.

“Oh, found it, in his trouser pocket! The Philosopher’s Stone is in his right trouser pocket!” Voldemort exclaimed in delight.

“No! It’s not!” Neville cried, but he was still stiff and couldn’t struggle at all.

Voldemort controlled a hand, reaching towards Neville’s trouser pocket…

Ted, invisible in the distance, was also anxious, fearing that Voldemort would grab the Philosopher’s Stone and run. He thought, “Dumbledore, how much longer are you going to wait?!”

However, Dumbledore seemed not to be there at all, with no sound or movement.

“Hey! Professor Quirrell, stop it! Are you going to continue helping the wicked? Can’t you see Voldemort wants to kill you? He never intended for you to live!” Ted suddenly shouted from his invisible state.

His shout indeed worked; Quirrell’s outstretched hand suddenly trembled, and his entire body stiffened.

“It’s not too late to pull back now. Dumbledore can definitely save you! You need to think carefully!” Ted continued his psychological attack.

But Voldemort couldn’t stand it. “Idiot, what are you hesitating for? Don’t believe his nonsense. Don’t resist me! Get the Philosopher’s Stone quickly!”

Ted continued to instigate from the side: “See, he doesn’t care whether you live or die. He only cares about the Philosopher’s Stone~” Unlike me, I only care about geigei~

Professor Quirrell’s forehead was sweating, his eyes darting around, his entire CPU overloaded.

Voldemort’s voice suddenly softened: “Quirrell, as long as I get the Philosopher’s Stone, I can be resurrected. Then you can become my most capable subordinate, and you won’t die!”

Voldemort was clearly flustered too; he hadn’t expected Ted to say such words, which were spot on!

And he clearly felt Quirrell’s thoughts waver!

Damn it, was he really considering betraying him?! Damn useless lump!

“He forced you to drink unicorn blood, he never intended for you to live. You can only rely on Dumbledore! This is your last chance! Professor Quirrell, think clearly!” Ted frantically fanned the flames from the side, his voice extremely loud.

Damn it! Everyone damn it!

At this moment, Voldemort, his soul shattered and in a severely weakened state, was about to explode with rage.

He no longer bothered to argue with Ted about Quirrell’s life or death, as he genuinely didn’t care about Quirrell’s fate.

He once again squeezed Quirrell’s magic, then forcibly took over Quirrell’s body, controlling Quirrell’s hand to reach for the Philosopher’s Stone in Neville’s pocket.

“Ah~~~”

Quirrell let out the most agonizing scream he had ever uttered, a scream so terrible it sounded like someone was tearing him in half.

His hand reached for Neville’s pocket in a twisted posture, his entire body shaking like he was disco dancing.

At this moment, Quirrell’s face was twisted into a knot, his eyes rolling upwards and sideways, and drool flowed out! Voldemort had broken him.

Ted couldn’t just rely on his words; he pulled two things out of his pocket and threw them from the shadows.