"You think Snape wanted to steal the Philosopher's Stone? Interesting idea!"
In the room with the Mirror of Erised, Quirinus Quirrell let out a triumphant sneer, completely unlike his usual pathetic and cowardly demeanor.
He looked at Harry with cold, sharp eyes, "That's understandable. Who would think that gloomy big bat is a good person anyway?"
"But—but—"
Harry found it hard to accept the fact; he felt like he was about to suffocate.
"Snape clearly tried to kill me! During the Quidditch match!"
Quirrell's face showed an exaggerated and eerie smile, "No, it wasn't Snape. The one who wanted to make you fall to your death was actually me."
"If he hadn't kept chanting the counter-curse, if Hermione Granger hadn't accidentally bumped into me, it would have succeeded. What a pity."
At this point, Quirrell snapped his fingers, summoning several ropes to tightly bind Harry.
"But it doesn't matter. Once I find the Philosopher's Stone, I'll come and finish you off."
"No one will save you this time, Mr. Harry Potter. For the rest of your time, please say your goodbyes to this world."
While desperately struggling, Harry was also shocked by what Quirrell said.
Had he been misunderstanding Snape all this time?
But if Snape would save him, why was his attitude towards him so terrible?
Harry was sure that Snape didn't like him and was full of hatred.
At this moment, it wasn't just Harry who was confused, but also Hermione and Ron, who were with Dumbledore.
Just now, they had passed through the doorway burning with black flames and entered the room.
But neither Harry nor Quirrell had noticed this.
Hermione pointed to her mouth, and after getting Dumbledore's permission, immediately whispered, "Professor, is what Quirrell said true? Did we—we misunderstand Snape?"
Merlin's beard! She had set Snape's clothes on fire then!
Luckily, she had bumped into Quirrell then; otherwise—she, who had interrupted Snape's counter-curse, would have become an accomplice in Harry's death!
"It's true, but it's not your fault, because Severus hasn't resolved his inner conflict yet, and that's indeed very difficult."
Hearing Dumbledore's answer, Hermione and Ron exchanged disbelieving glances, feeling as if the whole world was unreal.
Not long after, Quirrell had circled the Mirror of Erised, his face showing a mixture of exasperation and deep fear within his anger.
"Damn it! Where did Dumbledore hide the Philosopher's Stone? Inside the mirror?"
After cursing, his voice suddenly became incredibly humble, "Master! Help me!"
What master? Is Lord Voldemort here too? How is that possible?
As Harry was filled with doubt and alarm, a sharp voice sounded from behind Quirrell, "Bring that little Wizard over. He knows how to get the Philosopher's Stone."
"Alright, I understand, Master."
Quirrell looked at Harry with a sinister grin, "Mr. Potter, it seems before your death, you still have the fortune to make some contributions to my Master. Come on! Come here!"
Feeling the ropes dragging him towards the Mirror of Erised, a strong sense of fear and unwillingness rose in Harry's heart.
Not just because of Lord Voldemort's appearance and his own fate, but what if Lord Voldemort obtained the Philosopher's Stone through him and successfully resurrected?
Just then, the black flames sealing the doorway suddenly churned, and a tall figure walked into the room with heavy, powerful steps.
Quirrell and Harry, as well as the unseen Hermione and Ron, quickly turned to look, only to see a wide black robe fluttering in the wind, like the huge wings of a bat.
Dumbledore smiled slightly, "Severus, you're finally here."
"Mr. Potter, it seems you haven't taken my advice to heart."
Snape's cold gaze swept over Quirrell and Harry, and when he saw the bound Harry, his pupils suddenly contracted.
"I told you, if you wander around again in the middle of the night, I will personally expel you."
He waved his sleeve at Harry, releasing the ropes binding him, "Now get back to your dormitory! Hurry!"
"But—"
"No buts! Get out!"
Just as Snape was about to walk to Harry's side, a spell struck the empty space between them.
Quirrell clapped his hands in a strange manner, "What a qualified Professor, Snape!"
"I'm very curious, you and James Potter clearly have an irreconcilable enmity, yet why do you always interfere with my actions and save this boy? Do you not wish him to die, is it to torment him?"
Snape's facial expression twisted with anger, his fierce gaze like cold, sharp arrows.
"Don't mention that disgusting name in front of me!" Amidst his roar, his body leaned forward, carrying a strong sense of oppression, "Do you want to be my enemy, Quirrell!"
"Hahaha—"
Quirrell laughed carelessly, as if venting his long-suppressed emotions,
"Your enemy? Do you think you're some important figure?"
"Severus Snape! Didn't you tell me to think carefully about who I should be loyal to? Well, now I'll tell you! Who my Master truly is!"
Before he finished speaking, Quirrell carefully untied the turban on his head, then slowly turned around.
Snape suddenly clutched his left arm, his previously angry expression changing dramatically, and his body began to tremble.
The Dark Mark burned with pain, which undoubtedly meant "Lord Voldemort! Professor! Quirrell wants to steal the Philosopher's Stone to resurrect Lord Voldemort!"
Harry took the opportunity to run on his knees to Snape's side, gripping his sleeve tightly.
"Shut up!"
Snape's veins bulged on his forehead. After scolding, his lips were tightly pressed into a line.
Because at this moment, Quirrell had turned his back to them, revealing the back of his head.
There was a hideous, terrifying face there, as pale as if smeared with chalk.
Two blood-red eyes seemed to glow, below which were two long, thin nostrils like a snake's.
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