Getting Crazier?

"Drink the Potion, quickly!" Thinking of Quirrell's useless performance, Voldemort grew angrier and missed his loyal followers all the more.

Professor Quirrell said nothing, quickly downing the forbidden Potions that aided the soul but caused tremendous damage to the body.

Voldemort, of course, didn't care whether the Potions were forbidden. After all, it was Quirrell's body that suffered, while Voldemort's incomplete soul benefited.

But Quirrell had no choice. Once he'd chosen this path, there was no turning back.

Just then, Professor Quirrell's body suddenly froze. The face of Voldemort froze as well.

As strange waves invisible to ordinary people rippled through the air, an unseen voice began to echo in the ears of the man and the soul:

"Cheek..." "Praise Cheek..." "Praise the Primordial..."

Though they couldn't understand the language, the man and the soul both grasped the meaning it conveyed.

Voldemort's face let out a sudden scream, then his eyes snapped shut, as if he'd fainted.

Professor Quirrell fell to his knees, his whole body trembling uncontrollably.

One cut after another kept opening across his body, blood seeping from them.

At last, the unseen voice faded away, but Professor Quirrell had become a bloody mess. He looked as though he'd rolled across a bed of blades, and his appearance was now terrifying.

Professor Quirrell struggled to drag himself to his bed, then barely managed to fish a small bottle of emerald-green Potion out of the box beneath it.

His hands trembling, he pulled out the stopper. Several times, he nearly dropped the Potion on the floor.

After drinking it, Professor Quirrell trembled all over, his face turning even paler than Voldemort's.

He clenched his teeth to stifle his screams, but his face still twisted horribly, his features crumpling together.

Yet the wounds on Professor Quirrell's body were healing at a visible rate, leaving behind skin so smooth it was as if they'd never been there.

When it was all over, Professor Quirrell didn't even stop to rest. He struggled to his feet and respectfully called out twice, "Master? Master?"

Only after he'd waited a long time without an answer did Professor Quirrell conclude that his master, Voldemort, had fainted from the earlier damage.

Professor Quirrell sighed silently.

When he'd first encountered Voldemort, he'd thought he'd met a powerful Dark Lord. And the demands the Dark Lord had made seemed like nothing more than a small test.

So Professor Quirrell had willingly offered his body as a host, hoping to pass the test and earn eternal life and greater power.

Who could have guessed that the Dark Lord had grown so weak and fragile that he could survive only by possessing other beings?

And after possessing Professor Quirrell, the Dark Lord had kept draining his life force, leaving his body weaker and weaker.

Unfortunately, Professor Quirrell had already been possessed. Even if Dumbledore were capable of removing the Dark Lord from his body now, Professor Quirrell would still die.

So Professor Quirrell had no choice but to keep going down this path and pray that the Dark Lord would honor his word.

After a long while, Voldemort finally woke from his faint. Instead of launching into one of his usual tirades, he spoke in a cold voice:

"Quirinus, the Dark Lord is merciful. I'll give you one more chance.

"Go drink Unicorn Blood. Gain more life force, and help me recover my strength.

"If you can complete this task, I'll let bygones be bygones. Don't disappoint me again!"

Professor Quirrell quickly agreed, but Voldemort didn't respond.

He assumed Voldemort had fallen asleep because he was so weak, and thought little more of it.

In truth, Voldemort hadn't fallen asleep. He was thinking.

During the earlier murmuring, perhaps because both sides had been sufficiently mad, Voldemort had managed to glean quite a bit of information.

But no one knew what these corrupted scraps of knowledge would bring him.

The attack hadn't changed anything in Harley's life.

Professor McGonagall soon returned Harley's broomstick and praised her excellent performance in the Quidditch Match.

Professor McGonagall also told Harley not to worry about another attack.

Professor Snape had already put himself forward as the referee for the next match, ensuring Harley wouldn't be in danger again.

Harley thanked her professors in public, but inwardly, she couldn't help wondering.

There was no love without a reason, and no hate without a reason.

If Professor Snape simply valued her Potion skills and admired her talent for Potions, he wouldn't go so far as to interfere in something like this!

This was obviously something the head of house should handle!

Could Professor Snape be some kind of pervert? Did he have some special motive for her?

The thought sent a shiver down Harley's spine. She decided she'd better be careful when alone with Professor Snape and make sure to bring both her wand and her Magic Mirror.

Before she knew it, it was mid-December.

A thick blanket of snow covered the grounds around Hogwarts Castle. The students were all looking forward to the holidays, when they could have a proper snowball fight and then return to their warm homes, which they hadn't seen in half a year.

The Weasley Twins couldn't wait for the holidays and were already eager to play in the snow.

They enchanted a few snowballs to chase Professor Quirrell and pelt the back of his head.

For some reason, Harley's Spirituality told her this was the finest moment of the Weasley Twins' lives.

The Weasley Twins were put in detention for it, but they weren't bored. After all, they had a way to pass the time in detention: Draco Malfoy was there with them.

Dear Mr. Malfoy had landed in detention with Professor Snape for swearing in Potions Class.

Malfoy insisted he was completely innocent, since he'd merely stated a fact: Harley had no mother.

But Professor Snape wouldn't let him explain and sent him straight to Filch.

Christmas had finally arrived.

When Harley woke early that morning, the dormitory was empty. Only then did she remember that her roommates had left the day before.

Lavender and Hermione had both gone back to their homes in the Muggle world, while Parvati and her sister were going to India with their parents.

Hermione had wanted to stay and keep Harley company, but she hadn't been home in a long time, and the Granger couple had missed her.

Harley was actually glad to spend a quiet Christmas by herself.

With a very sensitive Miss Granger who often stuck close to her in the dormitory, Harley usually didn't dare go exploring at night, for fear something might happen.

Now that she was alone in the dormitory, it was time for a Witch's best trick—invisibility—to come in handy.

Harley had been coveting the books in the Restricted Section for ages, but she'd never been able to get her hands on them.

Madam Pince always stopped her at the entrance to the Restricted Section, and the professors weren't about to hand Harley a permission slip just like that.

Even Professor Snape, who looked after Harley more than anyone, wouldn't let her borrow a book on Dark Magic.

So Harley would just have to manage on her own. Yes, that was perfectly reasonable. It might not have been written by 0-08, but it was perfectly reasonable.