The Destroyed Philosopher's Stone?

Voldemort seemed eager to see Dumbledore discover Kyle while he was creating Horcrux.

Or rather, in his view, if Kyle dared to research Horcrux at Hogwarts, he would definitely be discovered.

"No need for you to trouble yourself, Professor." Kyle carefully put away the small piece of parchment.

Voldemort's words cannot be entirely trusted; apart from himself, no one else knows whether the contents are true or false. It can only be said that most of it is likely true.

Before you get your hands on that book, <Magick Moste Evile>, it's still a good reference.

"You just said... Professor?" Voldemort's expression was somewhat strange.

"You have taught me something after all..." Kyle said matter-of-factly, "In any case, I should call you professor."

"Ha, what a foolish trick..."

Voldemort sneered, "You think I'll let you go like this, you clever fool?"

Enjoy every day from now on, I will be back someday.

"I will find you. No matter how many Horcrux you've made, I will dig them up. You... you can't escape!"

"Then you'll have to look carefully, my dear professor," Kyle said with a smile.

At this moment, the black flames that had been extinguished reignited, indicating that someone else had entered the room.

"You came at just the right time."

Kyle took out another bottle of Potions and held it in his hand, then pulled out his Invisibility Cloak.

"Tell me... how did you do that..." Voldemort looked weakly at Kyle, his voice growing softer and softer, "Knowing that I was the one on Quirrell ... and still being here waiting beforehand..."

"It's not hard to guess, Professor," Kyle said quickly. "Horcrux, Unicorn Blood, Elixir of Life ... put these together, and the answer is obvious."

"As for why I was able to get here early... well, I have to thank Bellatrix... cough cough, Mr. Harry Potter."

Suddenly, the black demonic flames flickered, and a figure slowly emerged from within.

Harry had expected to see Snape, or even Voldemort, but he didn't.

There was only one person crawling on the floor in the room...

A familiar scarf lay scattered nearby; it belonged to Professor Quirrell.

"Professor?" Harry cautiously approached, but after only a couple of steps, he was horrified to discover that Quirrell had a hideous and terrifying face growing on the back of his head.

Harry felt a chill run down his spine, and he instinctively backed away, wanting to return to the warmth of the castle.

But he stopped when he thought about Voldemort possibly getting the Philosopher's Stone.

He noticed that Quirrell seemed to have passed out, and the face on the back of his head had its eyes closed. Although its lips were slightly opening and closing, as if it were saying something, no sound came out.

Harry was curious, but he didn't dare to go closer.

He carefully walked around Quirrell.

Only then did he notice something standing next to him— the Mirror of Erised, which he had seen before.

"So that's where Headmaster Dumbledore hid it," Harry whispered.

Upon seeing the mirror again, Harry couldn't resist taking a look.

"There's nothing around here, maybe the Philosopher's Stone is hidden in here..." he thought to himself, and then went to the mirror.

This time there was no one else. He only saw himself in the mirror. At first, he was pale and looked terrified, but after a moment, he smiled.

Harry in the mirror reached into his pocket, took his hand out, blinked, and then put it back in.

Harry was completely bewildered; he couldn't understand what his reflection in the mirror was doing... asking him for money?

Clang...

But just then, a bright red stone suddenly fell from behind the mirror.

"The Philosopher's Stone!" Harry exclaimed, bending down to pick it up.

However, Harry didn't notice that when he uttered the words "Philosopher's Stone," Quirrell behind him suddenly opened his eyes.

Just as he was examining the Philosopher's Stone, Quirrell had already swayed to his feet.

"The Philosopher's Stone... Haha... The Philosopher's Stone..." he murmured softly, his head bowed.

Harry was startled and quickly turned around, hiding the Philosopher's Stone behind his back.

"Don't even think about it, I won't give it to you!"

However, Quirrell showed no intention of taking it; instead, he began to laugh and extended his hand.

"Go to hell, all of you... Haha, go to hell, all of you!"

Sparks began to appear around them, and in an instant, they began to burn fiercely. They gathered together and formed a giant eagle made of flames.

The temperature in the room was rising higher and higher; at this rate, it wouldn't be long before flames filled the entire room.

"Stop right now!"

Harry grabbed Quirrell's arm, trying to stop him from unleashing more fire.

Blisters began to form on Quirrell's arm, but he seemed oblivious to the pain, grabbing Harry again and trying to drag him into the flames.

"It's all because of you... because of you... let's die together..."

Harry felt a piercing pain in the scar on his forehead, as if his head was about to split in two... His vision went black... He could only hear Quirrell's resentful screams.

Other voices were calling out, "Harry Potter! Harry Potter!"

However, this might just be a hallucination in his mind.

Harry's consciousness grew weaker and weaker. In his hazy state, he saw the Philosopher's Stone, which he had been holding in his hand, fall to the ground and be quickly engulfed by flames.

"No..." Harry murmured desperately as he tried to break free from Quirrell's arms.

He was then surprised to find that he had actually succeeded.

The pain in his forehead lessened, and Harry, regaining consciousness, was about to rush into the flames to find the Philosopher's Stone when someone stopped him.

"This is Fiendfyre, you will die!"

"Kyle?" Harry looked at the newcomer in surprise. "What are you doing here!"

"There's no time to explain..." Kyle said, frowning.

He admitted that he had been somewhat careless.

He saw that Quirrell was awake, but did not stop him.

I initially thought Quirrell was just having a final burst of energy before he died, getting up to find Harry and get his comeuppance. But I never expected that even in his terrible state, he could still cast Fiendfyre without a wand.

She's got a really tough life!

Kyle grabbed Harry's arm, and his wand gradually glowed with an orange light.

But before he could prepare to take the next step, the Fiendfyre in the room suddenly disappeared.

"It seems I've arrived just in time."

Dumbledore appeared in the doorway, not even taking a wand, but simply flicking his finger to dispel the surrounding Fiendfyre.

"Professor Dumbledore ... Quirrell ... The Philosopher's Stone ..." Harry struggled to say something.

Dumbledore shook his head and said, "We'll talk about that later, Harry. You need to rest now."

As he spoke, his blue eyes remained fixed on Kyle, seemingly somewhat surprised.