Quirrell's Death

"No—!!!"

Voldemort let out an incomparably shrill roar, filled with pain and unwillingness.

Under the scorching golden-red light, Quirrell's body began convulsing and melting like a wax figure thrown into a blazing fire.

The blurry face of Voldemort on the back of his head twisted and screamed within the light before finally turning into a wisp of black smoke. Along with Quirrell's charred body as it fell, it dissipated and withered away.

The golden-red light gradually faded.

Harry stood where he was, gasping for breath. The impact of that instant and the power erupting from within him left him weak all over.

He stared at Quirrell's rapidly blackening corpse, which was swiftly losing all signs of life. Shocked and horrified, he had yet to fully understand what had happened.

Then the world spun around him, his vision went black, and he crumpled to the floor unconscious.

The room fell back into dead silence.

Only Skofot remained standing, along with the unconscious Harry, Hermione, and Ron, and a pile of ashes rapidly cooling on the ground.

Skofot slowly withdrew his hand, feeling the power within him settle down. The icy killing intent brought by the [Scavenger] card also receded like the tide.

He glanced at the unconscious Harry, then at Quirrell's corpse and the wisp of black smoke that had yet to completely disperse—the remnant soul belonging to Voldemort.

It had worked.

He had killed with a borrowed knife, setting one enemy against another.

He had barely needed to exert any effort to use the ancient Protection Magic Lily Evans had left on Harry to severely wound Voldemort and deal with Quirrell.

He walked over to Harry, crouched down, and deftly slipped his fingers into Harry's robe pocket, easily retrieving the Philosopher's Stone glowing with alluring red light.

It felt warm to the touch, and powerful magical fluctuations emanated from it.

He weighed the stone countless people had dreamed of obtaining in his hand. His expression did not change as he casually stuffed it into his system Backpack.

Then he rose and brushed dust that did not exist from his robes, as though he had merely finished some insignificant task.

It was time to leave.

Before the professors were drawn here by the commotion.

He gave the wrecked battlefield one final glance.

His gaze lingered for an instant on Harry's face, which still bore traces of fear even in unconsciousness.

Then he turned away without hesitation, silently melting into the darkness leading to the upper levels of the castle, just as he had when he arrived.

[Emotion Points +300] (from Voldemort's extreme pain, fury, and terror upon being severely wounded)

[Emotion Points +150] (from Quirrell's fear and breakdown before death)

[Emotion Points +100] (from Harry's shock and anger before being knocked unconscious)

[Emotion Points: 2520/100]

Quite a fruitful haul.

And he had even acquired a fine souvenir.

For once, Skofot was in a remarkably good mood.

Just as Skofot turned to leave, a faint yet clear voice came from the ground. It trembled, yet was exceptionally resolute.

"Leoqi... what... what exactly are you trying to do?"

It was Hermione Granger.

She was tightly bound by ropes and unable to move, but unlike Ron, she had not completely passed out.

She struggled to raise her head. Her brown eyes were filled with fear, yet she continued staring fixedly at Skofot, especially at the motion with which he had just put away the Philosopher's Stone.

Skofot halted.

He slowly turned around. The brightness brought by his gains instantly gave way to a new, amused expression.

He paced over to Hermione, then gracefully crouched down until his eyes were level with hers.

With a thought, he unequipped [Scavenger] and silently equipped the [Leader] card.

An entirely different aura spread through the room—one without cold killing intent, yet far more oppressive.

It was the dignified authority of someone above others, open and righteous yet inspiring awe, as though he had been born to control the situation and judge all things.

A hint of something that could almost be called a smile even appeared on his face.

Yet the smile did not reach his eyes. Under the effects of the [Leader] Buff, it only made him seem even more unfathomable.

Hermione's breathing caught under the sudden shift in his bearing and the invisible pressure of his authority. Her body trembled uncontrollably.

It was as though a crushing weight pressed down upon her heart.

But she bit down hard on her lower lip, forcing herself to meet those calm yet piercing eyes.

"Put down the Philosopher's Stone, Leoqi."

Hermione's voice shook with fear, but she tried her best to remain calm and persuade him.

"You can still turn back now... It's not too late. As long as you put down the Philosopher's Stone and explain everything clearly when the professors arrive... you still have a chance... to redeem yourself."

"Oh?"

Skofot looked as though he had heard an extremely amusing joke.

He extended a finger, its tip carrying a trace of chill, and lightly touched Hermione's taut cheek.

"What chance? Miss Granger, what chance can you give me?"

Hermione jerked her head away in disgust, avoiding his touch. Her voice rose slightly, filled with urgency and one final attempt.

"A chance to redeem yourself! As long as you're willing to hand over the Philosopher's Stone and prove that you aren't working with Quirrell and You-Know-Who! Professor Dumbledore and the others will definitely—"

"When the professors arrive..." Skofot repeated her words. The smile on his face suddenly widened, and he even let out a low, mocking chuckle from his throat.

"Ha ha... When the professors arrive, and then what? Will they question our brave Miss Granger about why I happened to appear here? Question me about why I was able to pass through every obstacle? Or question me about why I..."

His voice suddenly dropped as he leaned forward, his smiling face drawing close to Hermione's.

The authority of [Leader] mingled with his own unsettling nature, forming a powerful mental pressure that enveloped Hermione as though it were tangible.

"...happened to give him that push just before Voldemort grabbed your dear Potter?"

Hermione's pupils contracted in extreme terror.

She looked at the face so close before her. Beneath that seemingly bright and dignified aura lay bottomless calculation, along with a quality she could not understand at all—a coexistence of madness and calm.

He knew everything!

He had even deliberately pushed Quirrell into touching Harry!

He had used the protective spell on Harry!

He was not innocent at all. He was the one orchestrating everything!

The overwhelming flood of information, her worry for her friends, and the terrifying pressure from the person before her, far beyond anything she understood—

became the final straw that completely shattered the mental defenses of this eleven-year-old girl.

"...No..." she muttered so faintly it was nearly inaudible. Her eyes rolled upward, and her body convulsed violently.

Then she completely lost consciousness, going limp within the ropes binding her.

The smile on Skofot's face vanished instantly, and the [Leader] card was unequipped.

He stood up and coldly glanced at the unconscious Hermione, then swept his eyes over Harry, Ron, and Quirrell's corpse sprawled across the floor.

At last, all the noisy voices had fallen silent.

He straightened his sleeves and did not linger for another moment. His figure completely vanished into the darkness leading to the upper levels of the castle, as though he had never appeared at all.

All that remained was the mess covering the floor, several unconscious children, and a gradually cooling corpse, silently recounting everything that had just happened.

And the true mastermind had already quietly departed with his spoils.

[Emotion Points +120] (from Hermione Granger's breakdown under extreme fear, cognitive shock, and mental pressure)

[Emotion Points: 2640/100]