MTLNOVEL Chapter 94: Where Do You Think You're Going?
The moment this name surfaced in his mind, Harry's hands clenched tightly into trembling fists.
The person before him was the one who had brutally killed his parents and thrown the entire wizarding world into chaos. The mysterious man!
Just as anger surged violently in Harry's heart, that person slowly stood up, abandoning his bizarre caressing of the mirror, and walked toward Harry with menacing intent.
"I was just thinking, if I can't get the Philosopher's Stone, what should I use to soothe my burning anger…"
"Your timing is quite perfect."
Saying this, Voldemort drew his wand with practiced ease, planning to give this boy who had repeatedly thwarted him a taste of the Cruciatus Curse.
Although his current rage had little to do with this boy, this child had once personally taken away his physical body.
"Heh, the Boy Who Lived. Your mother, who protected you with her life, and Dumbledore probably never imagined that you would once again..."
"Dumbledore never imagined... once again..."
Voldemort's voice suddenly diminished. The anger and distortion on his face suddenly disappeared, replaced by an expression of sudden, dawning realization.
"Harry Potter, yes, Harry Potter!" The voice started like a whisper, then gradually grew louder with excitement.
He seemed to have thought of something crucial, staring at Harry and saying in a hoarse voice. "Come here, look into this mirror!"
Although he really didn't want to obey that person's words, after hesitating for a moment, Harry still walked over and stood in front of the mirror.
Looking at Voldemort's appearance, he probably hadn't obtained the Philosopher's Stone yet. If that was the case, as long as he could find the Philosopher's Stone before him, he could...
Harry's thoughts suddenly stopped. He saw himself in the mirror smile, then pull out a blood-red stone from his pocket, wink playfully, and put it back in his pocket.
Then something heavy really appeared in his actual pocket!
No... it couldn't be? Thinking this, Harry's mind raced. He hadn't expected Dumbledore's protection of the Philosopher's Stone to be like this. Just look in the mirror and you could get it?
No, impossible. There must be other restrictions, and those restrictions were obviously something only he could satisfy, while Voldemort beside him couldn't.
But if that was the case, shouldn't he have not come here?
Deep regret gradually welled up in his heart. Harry tried to maintain his facial expression, not letting Voldemort beside him discover any flaws.
But some characteristics couldn't be concealed just by controlling one's expression.
"I think you've already obtained it?" Voldemort under the hood stared intently at Harry's pocket. He could see that the boy's pocket had suddenly become noticeably bulging.
"No, I don't have..." Panicking and stepping back two paces, Harry instinctively used his hand to protect his pocket, but he quickly realized that this action was tantamount to admitting he had a problem.
After confirming that his target had fallen into the boy's hands, Voldemort suddenly wasn't in a hurry anymore.
He spoke slowly, his tone very relaxed.
"Do you know, Potter? After that day..."
He began recounting some things Harry had never known about. His experiences after death and how he had killed Harry's parents.
Just hearing these things made Harry furious, but he forced himself to calm down and think about how to escape with the Philosopher's Stone.
But he didn't have much time left.
Gradually, Voldemort seemed to lose interest in continuing his narration and walked up to Harry.
"Alright, give me the Philosopher's Stone. Don't let your mother die for you in vain."
Saying this, Voldemort reached out his hand toward the arm Harry was using to protect his pocket.
The moment he touched that hand, Harry's scar suddenly burned with excruciating pain. The intense pain made his vision go black, but he also clearly saw that Voldemort, who had grabbed his arm, suddenly let go as if he had grasped a red-hot branding iron. Countless dense blisters appeared on his arm.
His mind became fuzzy from the pain in his scar. Harry felt his consciousness fading, and everything before his eyes began to look double. He could only vaguely see that the blisters on Voldemort's hand were becoming more and more numerous, gradually crawling upward...
Wait, blisters?
After seeing the blisters that suddenly appeared on that hand, a flash of inspiration struck Harry's mind.
His body seemed to be something very dangerous to him?
Realizing this, he directly lunged forward and grabbed the wrist of the person trying to escape.
The headache became increasingly severe, but the blisters on that person's body also became more and more numerous. Gradually, Harry felt his body losing strength. His hand was roughly pried away by that person, and he could only watch his staggering retreating figure.
However, although Voldemort had fled, the Philosopher's Stone seemed to still be in his pocket?
He... had successfully protected the school!
Thinking this, Harry could no longer support his body and fell backward.
But just as he was about to completely lose consciousness, he vaguely felt a pair of aged hands supporting him, helping him lean against the wall nearby.
Was it... Dumbledore?
Stumbling toward the door, Voldemort's body was continuously emitting wisps of black smoke.
His current condition was very bad. His entire body was covered with painful blisters, and the smoke was causing his magic power and spirit to continuously drain away.
Fortunately, he had been merged with Quirrell for quite a long time. Although this body had suffered considerable damage, it wasn't completely destroyed.
If it had been during the period right after merging, he probably couldn't even move now and could only be slaughtered, then return to his original state.
Damn it, what kind of magic was that!
His brain struggled to function. Voldemort vaguely recalled that when he had killed this child's mother, he had faintly seen a strange light.
Could it have been at that time?
But how could such a weak witch release such powerful magic?
Shaking his head and burying the thought deep in his heart, Voldemort continued running forward. He had to find a way to escape this troublesome place first.
As long as he could escape, there would still be a chance for a comeback.
After all, he now had a body. Even if it was weak and pathetic, he could do many things he couldn't do before. Although without the Philosopher's Stone this body would soon die, before dying, he could still do many things!
He should still have quite a few loyal Death Eaters. Bella, Barty, or Severus. As long as he could find any one of them, he would still have a possibility of resurrection!
Although he hadn't wanted to meet those former subordinates in such a weakened state, he couldn't care about that now!
Just wait. When he was resurrected again, when he reassembled the Death Eater forces, he would definitely take back everything that belonged to him!
Staggering to the door, Voldemort placed his hand on the door handle and violently pushed the door open.
But the moment he saw the scene behind the door, he was completely stunned.
Extreme anger, extreme unwillingness, and extreme despair appeared in his eyes.
Behind that ordinary door stood a young man in formal attire with a smile at the corners of his eyes.
Behind the young man, three Sphinxes sat in a row like three large, obedient dogs, their round eyes staring at him, as if they would pounce on him the moment he made any movement.
The wand spun once around his fingertip. The young man easily grasped the handle, the corners of his mouth curving into a mocking smile as he looked directly into his eyes, like a hunter who had finally caught his prey.
"Where do you think you're going?"