Chapter 32 The peak produces false support, and the dusk witnesses the real slave
A reading activity that lasted for most of the class ended in this way.
The little wizards were disappointed. This Defense Against the Dark Arts class was completely meaningless and just a waste of time. Lost Dog was better than Quirrell on the podium, at least he wouldn't stutter when barking.
What was more painful than the students was Quirrell. Under Rove's torture, he didn't know how to get through the get out of class. On the way to the office, his eyes were dizzy and his legs were trembling.
That boy Scamander is like a chatterbox, he has been pulling him to chat there during class, talking about his travels in Albania, and talking about "How Quirrell Fancy Cursing and Insulting the Dark Lord" in those days...
Quirrell did scold!
He admits it!
At that time, before he entered the Albanian forest, let alone the Dark Lord, he met the famous Mr. Scamander and his grandson Rove...
Rove kept pestering himself, wanting to listen to the story of the African prairie, and looked at him with admiration... Quirrell was a little bit flustered, and drank some of the wine that Rove brought, and pointed Jiangshan along the strength of the wine, "Gently " insulted the Dark Lord "a few words".
If things got here, it would be fine, but I went into the Albanian forest by myself, and I really met the Dark Lord...
At this point, there is still room for maneuver. Anyway, it has been a long time, but this kid who was going to Ilvermorny came to Hogwarts, and he even forcibly started a wave of memory killing for him...
Rolf Scamander, do you have an autistic grandpa and you're such a talker? !
It was really hard for Quirrell to imagine what kind of wonderful expression the Dark Lord on the back of his head would have when he heard those words. Anyway, he wanted to die already!
I used to pour it when I was drunk, why didn't I pour it that night, and said such nonsense...Drinking was a mistake!
Quirrell was confused, and walked towards the Defense Against the Dark Arts office alone. In the corridor, students kept pointing at him, and he had no time to take care of it.
Quirrell stumbled into the office, he opened the door tremblingly, and after closing it,
lock up!
Standing in front of a mirror, Quirrell loosened the thick scarf on his head a little bit, revealing a bald head.
At the back of the head grew a face, dead white as chalk, with shut eyes, and below were two nostrils, long and thin, like snakes.
After Quirrell took off his scarf, he began to take off his loose robe. He took off all his clothes and knelt naked in the middle of the office.
His body was so thin that every rib was visible, and his back was even more shocking, with large scars.
Quirrell raised his wand, and one end conjured a slender leather whip spiked with sharp metal barbs.
Quirrell picked up the whip, gritted his teeth, and whipped his back hard. The skin that was about to grow back became bloody again.
He pumped up and down, let out screams, and shouted reverently:
"Master, forgive my ignorance, and forgive me for offending you with my words.
At that time, I was just a lost wizard in the world, and you let me find my goal and my direction...
I'm guilty,
I repent,
I beg you to have mercy on me..."
Quirrell lashed himself hard, but the face at the back of his head never opened his eyes, allowing him to whip him.
Throughout the office, there was the sound of whipping, as well as Quirrell's crying and praying.
After a long time, the familiar voice finally sounded: "Okay, of course I forgive you, my most loyal servant."
The voice was cold and piercing, but it sounded like the sound of heaven in Quirrell's ears. He breathed a sigh of relief, lay on the ground and wept bitterly, and whispered:
"Thank you, Master, for your kindness."
Voldemort narrowed his blood-red eyes. If it had been before, he would have only rewarded him with an "Avada Kedavra"...
A servant dares to scold him, what a bully!
But now the Dark Lord has no one else to use except Quirrell, he doesn't want to go back to the deep forest and lurk in the dark for another ten years!
I can only choose to forgive! !
"Scamander met you in Albania?" asked Voldemort.
"Yes, master, I didn't expect him to come to Hogwarts, are you going to kill him?" Quirrell asked.
"Fool! Killing people right under Dumbledore's nose, you think he won't find you?" Voldemort screamed:
"The fact that you broke into the Gringotts vault is enough for him to be vigilant. If you kill someone again, there is no chance of stealing the Philosopher's Stone."
"so what should I do now?"
"It's really time to make a plan." Voldemort narrowed his eyes and said with a gloomy face:
"If Dumbledore knew that you had been to Albania, but you didn't mention it to him, he would definitely be suspicious of you."
"My strength is still too weak. You alone are not enough to deal with the current situation." Voldemort's eyes were full of murderous intent, and he whispered: "I must summon another servant of mine."
Quirrell knelt on the ground, his whole body shaking like a sieve, and said, "Is it Snape? He used to be your servant, right here at Hogwarts..."
"No!" Voldemort said with a sneer on his uncertain face, with a sneer: "
"On the night I lost my power, Snape turned against Dumbledore and became a professor at Hogwarts. He lived peacefully for ten years and never looked for his master again.
The peak produces false support, and the dusk witnesses the real servant...I can't believe that he is still mine..."
"Then who do you ask for help?"
Voldemort whispered in Quirrell's ear, and Quirrell trembled with excitement.
"With that guy, we will definitely succeed, Master!"
"Do you really think so?" Voldemort asked.
"Yes Master……"
Voldemort restrained his expression, his eyes showed the cruelty of cold nature, he said angrily:
"Hurry up and throw this idea into the Albanian forest, don't you think you have forgotten the failure of Gringotts?
Let me tell you, it would be weird if you thought you could make another mistake and I could let you comfortably be a professor here! "
"Master, I won't let you down again..." Quirrell cried, like a little daughter-in-law who had made a mistake, with an aggrieved look on her face.
"Don't show such a disgusting face. I scolded you today for your own good. I scolded you because you still have something to offer." Voldemort's tone became more and more fierce:
"Wait until the day I stop losing my temper, that's enough for you to see."
Quirrell just kowtowed.
"How about the herbs?"
"I've got a lot of tea from the Forbidden Forest, and soon I'll be able to steal the herbs, and then steal the Philosopher's Stone, and I'll be able to brew the potion that will bring you back to life." Quirrell said with a look of panic.
"Well, there is also unicorn blood!" Voldemort narrowed his eyes and said, "I need to recover some strength, and I will go to the Forbidden Forest to catch some recently."
"Yes, Master!"
Voldemort closed his eyes and fell into a deep sleep again. In this state, he basically couldn't do much, and could only feel what was happening outside.
Quirrell struggled to stand up. He walked to a small basin of fresh water, gently wiped the blood on his back with white fresh water, and observed the way the blood swirled in the water.
After a moment, he looked into the mirror, one behind the other, allowing him to see the Dark Lord's closed-eyed face clearly.
The hideous, noseless face aroused a wanton impulse between Quirrell's two strands.
The thought of this blasphemy made Quirrell shudder. He picked up the belt and stabbed the sharp metal barb into the flesh.
Pain suppresses desire.
When the barbs of the whip were pierced deeper, the muscles of Quirrell's whole body instinctively contracted, and he let out a breath slowly, savoring the satisfaction brought by the pain.
After drying the wound, the man put on his robe again, wrapped the scarf around his head, and he was the timid, stuttering Quirrell again.
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(Thanks to "Book Friends 20220714210653410" for the reward.)