Who the Hell Is the Dark Lord?

The cramped room was instantly illuminated by a ghastly green light. Quirrell, as expected of the man chosen by the Dark Lord, dodged the deadly Avada Kedavra with a powerful jerk to the side.

However, to his surprise, when the Killing Curse struck the ground, it suddenly split into a beam of green light that shot towards his face.

Caught completely off guard, Quirrell was instantly struck in the face by the split green light.

Quirrell, struck by Avada Lightning Chain, collapsed to the ground with a thud, not even having a chance to utter a sound.

Harry, wand in hand, pointed intently at Quirrell, who lay lifeless on the ground, and tentatively approached him.

When Avada Kedavra split off, he knew Voldemort was still stuck behind Quirrell's head, and he dared not let his guard down.

Upon reaching Quirrell's side, he did not hesitate for a moment and chanted the spell again.

"Avada Kedavra!"

The Killing Curse struck Quirrell once more, and this time, Quirrell had no chance of survival.

This is a good habit that Harry developed a hundred years ago. There was a classmate who was careless when defeating the Dark Wizard, and as a result, the Dark Wizard, who was pretending to be dead, managed to kill him.

This painful lesson was used as a teaching material by Veratia and Cassandra, who constantly reminded Harry of it.

He had no pity for Quirrell.

Aside from greed for power and a desire to seize authority, there is no reason to associate with Dark Wizard like Voldemort who is merely clinging to life.

After delivering the final blow, Harry looked at the Mirror of Erised.

To his surprise, this time in the Mirror of Erised, it wasn't the Potter Family and the two female classmates who appeared, but himself.

The reflection in the mirror gave him a sly smile, winked, and seemed to be holding a stone in its hand.

Could it be... the Philosopher's Stone?

He had seen this thing before in Veratia's collection of books; it was exactly the same as the stone he was holding in the mirror.

Harry looked at the mirror curiously, and then saw his reflection put the Philosopher's Stone in his pocket.

At the same time, he suddenly felt a weight in his pocket, as if something had been put into it.

Philosopher's Stone?!

Harry could hardly believe that he had obtained the Philosopher's Stone so easily.

He reached into his pocket, and the cool touch of the Philosopher's Stone made him feel as if he were in a dream.

"Harry Potter..."

A hissing sound rang out, and Harry instantly became alert. He quickly backed away and discovered a human face reflected in the mirror.

The man's face was sinister and terrifying, seemingly without a nose, as horrifying as a skull.

"Voldemort?" Harry asked uncertainly.

At the same time, he waved his wand, drawing a Charms's trajectory.

"Revelio (The Revealing Charm)!"

A wave of energy quickly spread outwards in a spherical shape from the tip of the wand, but the Charms could not detect where the face was located.

The face in the mirror smiled eerily and said, "No need to waste your energy, Harry Potter... I really didn't expect that we were the same kind of people..."

As he said this, the turmoil in his heart had not yet subsided.

No, who the hell is the Dark Lord?

You're a freshman, and you not only unleash a Killing Curse the moment you meet, but you can also attack two targets at the same time?!

If Quirrell hadn't blocked him, he probably wouldn't be in a good position right now.

At the same time, he was also wondering, who exactly was this Harry Potter in front of him?

Could it be that someone disguised it as Polyjuice Potion?

Logically speaking, a first-year student could not possibly learn the Avada Kedavra. Even if they did, they wouldn't be able to hit the target accurately. At most, it would only cause an adult wizard to bleed from the nose, and it wouldn't cause any fatal damage.

But this Potter in front of me can actually fight two people at the same time, and he can even use the Killing Curse without any emotional preparation.

Are all Hogwarts students this brutal nowadays?

Despite his thoughts, Voldemort's mouth remained open.

"I really want to show Dumbledore what his Golden Boy is like... You were born to be a Dark Wizard. Come, join me, Potter, let's rule the Magical World, rule the whole world, and gain the power of immortality!"

The human-faced voice continued its seductive enticement of Harry: "If you lend me the Philosopher's Stone —I know a great deal of advanced magic, and I can even help you bring your parents back... Child, don't you long for them to be with you as you grow up?"

His target was the Philosopher's Stone in Harry's pocket; what Harry was really like was irrelevant.

"Oh, why should I believe you?" Harry didn't know where the face was, so he couldn't do anything about it for the time being. So he mocked, "I don't think a parasite clinging to the back of someone's head has such abilities. I think you shouldn't be called the Dark Lord, but the Duck Lord, because you can only quack like a duck."

The face in the mirror suddenly twisted. He never expected that the child in front of him had a mouth as vicious as the Charms he had cast.

Even Severus Snape, who served under him back then, couldn't match one ten-thousandth of this kid's viciousness.

He couldn't imagine how much ridicule he would suffer after the Dark Lord was turned into the Duck Lord by a pun.

"Boy!" Voldemort was enraged, and he cursed viciously, "You ill-mannered orphan..."

"Oh, hah." Harry sneered, retorting, "My parents left me because you killed them, but they loved me—and you... Voldemort, you're different. I bet your mother didn't love you at all—look at you, you don't even have a nose! I bet your mother thought you were ugly and threw you into an orphanage! You'd better go back to the Abyss of Chaos and see if anyone wants you!"

"Shut up! Shut up! How dare you! You idiot!" Voldemort screamed hysterically, "How could you know... you!"

Harry opened his mouth, realizing that he might have just said something that hit Voldemort where it hurt.

Judging from Voldemort's appearance, he was clearly breached; this attack had truly hit a vital point.

Could it be... really so?

Good heavens, he learned those swear words from Professor Hoot from China, the teacher of Magical Creatures...

Professor Hoot is not only a great cook, but also a master at cursing.

He had witnessed Professor Hoot's cursing before; her mouth spewed out vicious curses like a machine gun, as if they were Shakespeare sonnets, yet somehow they were also elegant...

This resulted in their class of students being incredibly scathing when they cursed.

He felt his words weren't strong enough, because Professor Hoot had even brought up her ancestors for eighteen generations...

"Oh, then I must apologize to you, Mr. Voldemort," Harry said sincerely. "I'm so sorry, I didn't know your parents abandoned you when you were very young—"

But to Voldemort, those words were nothing short of the most vicious mockery.

Lies don't hurt, but the truth is the sharpest knife.

His mother, Merope Gaunt, fell deeply in love with Voldemort's father, a Muggle —and Tom him with Love Potion.

But after the affair was exposed, Merope was not only kicked out by Tom, but the Gaunt family also regarded her as a disgrace.

Pregnant and kicked out of her own family, Merope arrives in London to live a life of poverty and is forced to sell her priceless Slytherin's Locket to Mr. Borgin of Borgin & Borgin for a paltry 10 Galleon.

On a dark, snowy night before, Merope gave birth to Voldemort in a Muggle orphanage and then cruelly abandoned him.

How could Voldemort not be enraged when Harry so ruthlessly reopened such a painful memory?

He glared fiercely at Harry, but when he was so angry that he wasn't so furious anymore, and his mind gradually calmed down.

The most urgent thing is to get that Philosopher's Stone. Once we get the Philosopher's Stone, everything will be alright!

Ha, that born evil little Potter!

I accept your apology.

Voldemort said coldly, another plan forming in his mind.

"Your generosity is sufficient to accommodate a restroom," Harry with a polite bow, "And it's a girls' restroom, no less."

Voldemort choked, then snorted coldly and spoke again, "Stop with the talk, Potter. You should know that Dumbledore won't come to save you, just like Quirrell did when he took it upon himself to try and kill you with a spell during the Quidditch Match!"

"On his own initiative?" Harry raised an eyebrow. "Oh, so it was Quirrell who cast the spell—why would he do that?"

"Why do this?" Voldemort sneered. "Of course, it's to attract Dumbledore's attention, to make the great, selfless Dumbledore notice that he's plotting to kill the Savior, so that he can get Dumbledore's help and escape my control—unfortunately, Potter, Dumbledore ignored him. In his eyes, everyone is worthy of sacrifice—"

Harry had a bad feeling about this. It seemed like Voldemort was stalling for time—and what he had just said was clearly provocative, making him suspicious of Dumbledore ...

If he were still a first-grader, he would definitely fall for Voldemort's trick and become suspicious of Dumbledore.

But he had seen too many Dark Wizard spouting nonsense, trying to survive and hurt others...

Therefore, he didn't believe a single word Voldemort said.

He reached out and placed his hand on the Philosopher's Stone in his pocket.

The Philosopher's Stone responded to his touch, its magic surging and flowing into his hand.

The Voldemort in the mirror was still spouting nonsense. "As for you, Potter, you're also part of his sacrifice. Anyone can become Dumbledore's sacrifice as long as the great Voldemort can be defeated!"

"Think about it, your parents, and you... Don't you ever wonder why I'm targeting your parents?"

"Because you're a poor wretch without a mother's love, you're jealous of me," Harry mocked mercilessly, his hands still absorbing the Philosopher's Stone.

"Potter!" Voldemort roared, "My patience is running out!"

"Compared to that, I'm more curious about why your mother didn't want you," Harry grinned smugly. "You're a serial killer, that's for sure. You wanted to kill my parents because you wanted to, and it has nothing to do with anyone else—but I'm more curious about why your mother abandoned you, and why even your father didn't want you... By the way, we've been talking for so long, and I still don't know your last name, Mr. Voldemort. Didn't your parents teach you to be polite to others?"

"Oh, sorry!" Harry covered his mouth with his other hand, looking at Voldemort with an exaggerated expression. "I forgot, Mr. Voldemort, your mom and dad don't want you anymore—"

That expression, he learned it from Cassandra.

Harry felt no guilt whatsoever, after all, the Voldemort in front of him was the enemy who killed his parents, and a murderous maniac who had committed countless evils in the Magical World, killing countless kind wizards.

Such a person does not deserve any pity.

Moreover, he is currently in the open while Voldemort is in the shadows. It would be wiser for him to say some trash talk to make Voldemort lose his temper and reveal himself.

"Harry... Potter!" Voldemort's voice hissed, "I've changed my mind, you must die!"

As soon as he finished speaking, Quirrell suddenly stood up.

A green light appeared out of nowhere, but Harry was prepared. He used his wand to pry open the bricks in front of him, Transfiguration a huge shield that blocked the terrifying green light.

He didn't stop what he was doing, and fired out another pale green light, but this time it didn't hit "Quirrell".

"I'll make you pay!" Quirrell hissed.

Harry understood that Voldemort had possessed Quirrell's body.

"Disarming Charm!" Harry cast a Disarming Charm, his other hand still tightly gripping the Philosopher's Stone's Philosopher's Stone, drawing energy from it.

The Philosopher's Stone truly lived up to its name; Harry felt power filling his body.

That familiar sense of power is gradually returning.

Voldemort used his wand to break the Charms, stretched out a hand, and blew hard, causing a black flame to appear out of thin air.

He let out a grotesque laugh, as if he were a demon from the deepest hell. Black flames roared and transformed into a twisted giant python, its blood-red maw gaping wide, poised to bite Harry.

It is Fiendfyre.

Fiendfyre is a profound form of Dark Arts, a type of magical fire that grows ever more powerful—it can mimic the forms of monsters and relentlessly hunt down almost anything that can burn, friend or foe.

Incompetent wizards often unleash Counter-spell due to their inability to control them and lack of knowledge on how to break them, causing unnecessary damage. Only powerful wizards can control them precisely.

Dark Wizard like Voldemort could undoubtedly control Fiendfyre with ease.

Harry gripped the Philosopher's Stone tightly, drawing upon the energy contained within it.

Philosopher's Stone! Absorb it!

A continuous flow of magical energy surged into Harry's body from where his hand touched the Philosopher's Stone, and Harry felt full of power!

He raised his wand and swung it forcefully in front of him.

As he moved, a ring of azure flames blazed around him, forming a protective fire shield.