July 28

After Professor McGonagall joined them, construction at the Maple Training Ground sped up dramatically.

The Transfiguration master contributed far more than anyone else to the work of building the walls.

Amid all the busy work, the evening of July 27 arrived.

"I'm setting off tonight, so I can get there before dawn and give Harry a birthday celebration." Hagrid bustled around his hut, making a cake as he asked Voldemort, "Are you coming with me?"

"No."

Voldemort refused without hesitation. He didn't want to interact too much with Harry, to avoid any unnecessary trouble.

"All right, then where will you wait for me?" Hagrid asked.

"The Leaky Cauldron. After that, I'll follow you from a distance," Voldemort replied.

"All right, then I won't ask you to stay for dinner." The first cake had turned out badly, putting him in a terrible mood.

"Okay. See you tomorrow."

Voldemort turned to leave and made his way through Hogsmeade, returning to the Leaky Cauldron.

The Leaky Cauldron.

When he woke early in the morning, the first thing Voldemort did was check his supplies:

A silver flask containing Polyjuice Potion, three wands, a gun and ammunition, and a few healing potions.

"I should make brewing Felix Felicis a priority."

If he had any Felix Felicis, Voldemort would have drunk a drop or two without hesitation. But the stuff was far too precious. He'd searched the black market, and while there were plenty of fakes, he hadn't found a single genuine bottle.

As one of the most accomplished Potions Masters of the age, Voldemort could naturally tell whether Felix Felicis was real. Given enough time and ingredients, he could even brew a batch himself.

Unfortunately, time was exactly what he lacked.

"Hope everything goes smoothly." After giving himself a word of encouragement, Voldemort went downstairs for breakfast.

"Quirrell, you haven't been back much lately," Old Tom told him.

"I've been busy at Hogwarts. I'll probably move there in a day or two," Voldemort said.

"That soon?" Old Tom seemed surprised. It was still a long time until term started.

"They're building a training ground. I want to improve the students' combat skills." Voldemort accepted the breakfast Old Tom handed him.

"That's a fine idea. When my granddaughter goes to Hogwarts, she can practice there too."

Old Tom was still talking when he suddenly spotted Hagrid. He called out excitedly and asked what he'd like to drink.

"No, Tom. I'm on business for Hogwarts." Hagrid patted Old Tom on the shoulder with his enormous palm, nearly knocking him flat.

"My goodness!" Bent over, Old Tom happened to catch sight of Harry. He cried out, then stammered, "Is this—could this be—"

The whole pub fell silent. Only Voldemort kept eating his breakfast as if nothing had happened. He'd already seen Harry Potter, even if only through a monitor, and the novelty had long since worn off.

Besides, he was a little nervous, afraid the curse might affect him.

The Leaky Cauldron descended into chaos. Old Tom hurried over to greet Harry, and the others surged forward like mad.

Cordelia was the most excited of all. She shook Harry's hand at least five times, while Diggle couldn't quite contain himself either and bowed with tears in his eyes, hat in hand.

Voldemort watched the two of them, wondering whether their memories had been damaged.

"Harry, this is your Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Quirinus Quirrell." Hagrid rescued Harry from the crowd and brought him over to Voldemort. "Just like I told you, I'm his assistant professor."

"Hello, Harry." Voldemort set down his sandwich and looked at Harry, whom Hagrid had dragged over. "What happened to your leg? It doesn't look too good."

"Professor Quirrell, I... I got a rabies shot. It hurts, so..." Harry said shyly.

Voldemort blinked. He'd forgotten about that. Feeling guilty, he picked up a napkin and wiped the corner of his mouth, then hurriedly changed the subject.

"Hagrid, when are you going to Gringotts? I was wondering if I should go down with you."

"We'll go to Gringotts first. Harry needs to withdraw some money." Hagrid spoke as he pushed back the people trying to crowd around again, protecting Harry as he led him away. "Come with us. I'm not sure about this."

Voldemort nodded, picked up his sandwich, and followed them.

Once they reached the courtyard, the three of them were finally free. Hagrid began teaching Harry how to enter Diagon Alley, and Harry watched everything with wide-eyed curiosity.

"You just tap three times? I thought you had to conjure a door, like when you turned Dudley into a pig..." Harry's voice suddenly trailed off. He was stunned by the opening passage into Diagon Alley.

"You turned someone into a pig?" Voldemort asked in surprise.

He wasn't surprised that Hagrid had used magic. He was surprised that Hagrid had turned Dudley into a pig. The book said he should have only given him a pig's tail.

"I have your wand to thank for that. It's a beauty." Hagrid raised the umbrella in his hand, where he'd placed the new wand.

Voldemort nodded and said nothing more.

They walked on in silence. Hagrid looked worried about what lay ahead, while Harry was curious about everything. As for Voldemort...

A sense of foreboding crept over him, as though the curse were waking.

"Quirrell, are you coming down with us?" Hagrid asked when they reached the entrance to Gringotts.

Voldemort wanted to refuse. Even if he went inside, he would first have to drink the Polyjuice Potion. But at that very moment, the curse struck.

He shuddered, as if jolted by the morning chill. Then his soul automatically retreated into the Blood Curse, and Quirrell's soul took control of the body. The curse had descended, but not on Voldemort's soul. It had found Quirrell instead.

"Master, amid the chaos, I'll seize the Philosopher's Stone for you, kill Harry, and bring you back to life," Quirrell's soul said frantically.

"No! Stop, Quirrell. You're cursed. Don't get involved. Leave!" Voldemort shouted from within the Blood Curse, but Quirrell acted as if he hadn't heard a thing.

"Of course." With control of the body, Quirrell said to Hagrid, "I'll come with you. If there's any danger, I'll protect you."

Voldemort's soul roared within the Blood Curse, but it was no use. Quirrell's soul seemed cut off from him. The man had completely lost his mind.

The three of them entered Gringotts. Harry was captivated by the strange, dazzling world, while Hagrid gripped his umbrella warily. Quirrell...

He scanned everything around him with a dark expression. When he spotted Malfoy, the corner of his mouth curled up slightly. At the same time, Malfoy saw him too.

At that moment, the two of them somehow had the exact same thought: You'll do.

Quirrell was thinking of using the chaos Malfoy created to get the Philosopher's Stone and kill Harry.

Malfoy meant it in the simple, literal sense: he'd figured out who the troublemaker his master had mentioned was.

Their gazes passed over each other, and they each began preparing to act.

Only the nervous Hagrid had no idea whether there were any enemies. As he fretted, he also regretted his big mouth.

But he really had no reason to regret it so much. His tendency to blurt things out was instinctive; one mistake wouldn't change that.

Perhaps he should try to accept this flaw of his. After all, there was no changing it.