This Mirror... Something's Not Right

After drinking the potion from the small bottle, Harry and Aaron felt a chill run through their bodies.

The effect was clearly good; they felt nothing as they passed through the layer of black flames, as if the flames didn't exist.

The two walked through a long corridor and arrived at the last room.

There are no mechanisms here, only the Mirror of Erised, and a person is standing in front of the mirror.

However, it wasn't Professor Snape, nor was it the You-Know-Who; it was Professor Quirrell, the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.

Harry saw the face of the person with their back to them through the reflection in the mirror, and his mouth dropped open in astonishment.

"It's you?"

No, that can't be, it's Snape, it's him.

"I've said it so many times," Aaron said, shaking his head and rubbing his forehead in exasperation. "It wasn't Professor Snape, it wasn't Professor Snape, but you never believed me."

Now, the facts speak louder than words, and you have no choice but to believe them.

Professor Quirrell turned around, his face displaying an unusually cold expression.

"I never expected to run into you here, Potter."

I never expected there would be such a pleasant surprise, Aaron Gaius.

"Um... should I feel honored at this moment? After all, not everyone can get into Voldemort's line of sight."

"Voldemort?" Harry paused, staring at Professor Quirrell in astonishment. "You're saying he's Voldemort?"

"Of course not, Professor Quirrell is just a pitiful creature possessed by a demon."

However, it should be his own choice. Although the Dark Lord is barely clinging to life, it is undeniable that he has a great deal of resources and can bestow upon ordinary people the things they desire most.

Money, lifespan, knowledge, strength, or... power.

"I suddenly understand why Master thinks so highly of you." Quirrell burst into laughter. "But how did you know that?"

Shouldn't we normally be suspicious of Snape like Harry Potter?

After all, he didn't seem like a good person, and he often made things difficult for Gryffindor. Professor Quirrell was just a stuttering, cowardly fellow who could barely speak properly.

"I have a Fantastic Beasts that is particularly sensitive to certain cold and dark atmospheres."

You hid it very well, but you were too weak, which inevitably revealed a flaw.

It was a Defense Against the Dark Arts, and my pet, being very perceptive, sensed something that it found repulsive.

I hadn't taken it to heart at first, but by sheer coincidence, I noticed that fleeting murderous intent in your eyes.

Compared to my peers, I'm considered quite worldly-wise, but that kind of look in your eyes still sends chills down my spine.

Imagine, how could someone who is timid and stutters and trembles when they speak possibly have that kind of look in their eyes?

You have definitely killed people, and more than one.

I've suspected you ever since.

Clap clap clap!

Professor Quirrell clapped his hands and said, "That's beautiful. This is just a suspicion, isn't it?"

"It's suspicion. Just that look in your eyes is enough for me to tell you're not a good person."

In addition, after the Forbidden Forest incident, Professor Snape and Professor Dumbledore both approached me, which could be said to be for some reason, and there was a certain justification.

Only you, Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor, actually wanted to keep me behind for a private talk, ostensibly to guide my studies. It's obviously made up on the spot.

"That makes sense, doesn't it?" Quirrell said, his face grim. "Isn't it common for teachers to show more favoritism towards outstanding students?"

"That's reasonable. Back then, I had already labeled you a 'bad guy'."

I just injured that man in black robes in the Forbidden Forest. I usually have almost no interaction with him, yet an academy professor wants to mentor me. It's hard not to have some ulterior motives!

In addition, Harry Potter has a scar on his forehead that sustains his life, Unicorn Blood that grants immortality, the Philosopher's Stone, and a terrifying, yet unseen, black-robed man.

Connecting these points, we can barely draw the conclusion that you are the one being possessed by Voldemort.

Upon hearing this, Professor Quirrell lowered his head with a somber expression and remained silent.

Harry pursed his lips, feeling both bewildered and suddenly enlightened.

"What about Professor Snape? He cast Curse on my broomstick on the Quidditch Pitch."

"This..."

Just as Aaron was about to explain, Quirrell suddenly said, "Actually, I want to harm you, and Snape said "" to break the spell.

"If your friend Miss Granger hadn't come over and started the fire, blocking my view, I would have killed you in half a minute at most."

"Do you understand now?" Aaron glanced at the dazed Harry and said, "Our Slytherin headmaster wanted to save you, but you wronged him for most of the semester. You owe him an apology."

Harry nodded blankly. "But I always feel like he hates me."

He must hate you, but the reason he hates you is because you are his father, but he never wanted you to die.

I knew from the beginning that you were a threat, especially after Halloween.

I released the Troll to lure everyone away, thinking I could succeed, but Dumbledore's magic stopped me.

Then Snape came knocking. He was more perceptive than anyone else; he suspected me, intimidated me, and even threatened me...

But he didn't understand that his threats were completely useless, because I am not alone. "Professor Quirrell said, turning to look at the Mirror of Erised, his eyes filled with greed. "What is this mirror for?"

I saw my desire, and I offered the Philosopher's Stone to my master, but how did I obtain it?

"If it's true, then it must be true." Aaron shrugged. "This challenge was designed by Dumbledore. He's old and shrewd; his wisdom is definitely not simple."

"Hmph! At worst, I'll just smash this mirror."

I have plenty of time. By the time Dumbledore returns from London, I'll have already taken the Philosopher's Stone and flown far away.

"You can try it. Maybe you won't get anything by breaking this mirror."

"Make use of these two children."

The hoarse voice echoed in the room. Professor Quirrell suddenly turned to look at the two of them and shouted sternly, "You two, come here."

Aaron and Harry exchanged a glance and slowly stepped forward.

"Look in this mirror and tell me what you see?"

The two stared at the mirror, not particularly nervous, as it wasn't their first time looking into the Mirror of Eros and they had some experience.

Suddenly, Dumbledore's figure appeared in the otherwise unremarkable mirror.

He held a blood-red stone in his hand, scanning back and forth between Aaron and Harry in the mirror, finally stopping on Aaron.

Aaron's face looked grim in the mirror. He waved his hands repeatedly, signaling him to hand the Philosopher's Stone to Harry.

But in the end, he couldn't resist the elderly man's insistence and let him put the things in his pocket.

Harry paused for a moment, then glanced instinctively at Aaron's pocket and noticed it was bulging considerably. He immediately White Magic's Stone was.

"So?" Professor Quirrell asked. "What did you see? Tell me quickly."

Harry was startled, but after realizing he couldn't give himself away, he immediately said, "I saw me shaking hands with Dumbledore, and I even won the House Cup."

Quirrell rolled his eyes, shoved him aside, and stared intently at Aaron. "And you? What did you see?"

"How is that possible?"

"I think I gave the Philosopher's Stone to the Dark Lord, and then decades later I inherited his legacy, becoming the third Dark Lord." Aaron spouted nonsense with a straight face, his acting superb, coupled with a look of astonishment on his face, but in his heart he was cursing Dumbledore to the core.

Damn it! You cunning old fox!

It was intentional, that old bastard definitely did it on purpose.

To protect Harry, Guyon used him, Slytherin, as a shield.

However, it won't be that easy for them to drag me into this mess.

"Master, this..." Professor Quirrell stammered, "What should we do?"

"One of them is definitely lying, or both of them are lying." A sharp voice came from behind Quirrell. "Let me talk to them."

"But Master, your strength is not enough."

"That's enough."

Quirrell removed the purple headscarf from his head and then turned to face the two of them.

Where the back of the head should be, there is an extra human face.

Through the Mirror of Erised, Harry could see it very clearly. He had never seen such a hideous and terrifying face in the Restricted Section. It was like a demon crawling out of Hell.

"I thought you were at least somewhat human, but it seems I was wrong," Aaron said with some emotion.

"Long time no see, Aaron Gaius," Voldemort said meaningfully. "This is our first real meeting, though it may not be very good."

"It's not very good."

"I need the Philosopher's Stone to reshape my body. Can you do me that?" Voldemort said meaningfully.

Harry's heart skipped a beat. Could Voldemort have found out where the Philosopher's Stone was?

He shook his head at Aaron with a complicated expression, silently praying that Aaron wouldn't go astray.

Aaron smiled nonchalantly, and under the other's astonished gaze, took a red stone from his pocket. "You want this thing, don't you?"