Sharing the Philosopher's Stone

Quirrell obediently turned his head, and Voldemort's flat face was pointed at Tom.

"Riddle, I am the Dark Lord, the You-Know-Who people speak of. You should know me." Voldemort's voice was hoarse, carrying an air of condescending arrogance.

Tom nodded. "I know, you're the dark wizard Harry killed when he was one year old. Because of you, he became different."

Voldemort was internally cursing. "Very well, no wonder he shares my name with this man; his words are always venomous."

"How about we talk?" he said, suppressing his anger.

"What are you going to talk about?" Tom asked, tilting his head, his face full of curiosity, but with a hint of mockery in his eyes.

Voldemort's red eyes gleamed slightly. "Have you forgotten your promise to Quirrell? We agreed to share the Philosopher's Stone."

"If you hand over the Philosopher's Stone from Harry's pocket to me, you will gain infinite wealth and life, and be immortal like Nicolas Flamel."

"Not only that, I will also share my rights and glory with you. Your talent is so exceptional, yet Albus Dumbledore is unwilling to impart any advanced magic to you."

"Tom, have you ever been to the school's Restricted Section? I'm sure you haven't. Albus Dumbledore is afraid of you, afraid that you will surpass him in the future."

"Just as he once feared me, I have no such concerns. I am the strongest being, and I will share my knowledge with you without reservation."

"Master, I..." Quirrell was breathing rapidly. He wished Voldemort's promise was meant for him.

But Voldemort ignored him completely, staring intently at Tom, waiting for his reply.

Suddenly Tom laughed, a laugh that made him look incredibly smug.

"Voldemort, you're accusing me first! You and Quirrell betrayed me first. We agreed to take the Philosopher's Stone together, so why did you come back and act secretly without informing me?"

"But we're on the same page. If we can have it all to ourselves, why share it with others?"

As he spoke, Tom took a bright red stone from the unconscious Harry's pocket, weighed it in his hand, and put it in his pocket.

Voldemort's narrow nostrils flared as he breathed heavily, his crimson pupils filled with greed.

The Philosopher's Stone! If you obtain the Philosopher's Stone and use its powerful magic to revive, you will become even stronger than before.

Even Albus Dumbledore was no match for him; he was just one step away, just that final step!

"Tom," Voldemort said slowly in a very gentle tone, calming his inner excitement.

"I understand your ambition. We are all Slytherin, the most extraordinary Slytherin, but you are too young."

"So what if you get the Philosopher's Stone? Do you know alchemy? Can you brew the Elixir of Life? Wealth and treasures are never the most important things. Do you know what you lack most right now?"

"What is it?" Tom asked curiously.

Voldemort spread Quirrell's arms, but his back to Tom looked rather strange.

"A guide! You need a learned and powerful teacher! Albus Dumbledore was wary of me back then, and he never taught me anything useful."

"After I graduated, I traveled for a full twenty years before completing my transformation and becoming an unprecedentedly powerful wizard."

"Give me the Philosopher's Stone, and I will be your teacher from now on, saving you from countless detours."

Tom desperately tried to suppress his laughter. He lacked money, time, and even a wife, but the one thing he had in abundance was a teacher.

He already has two teachers, one good and one evil, one black and one white, and there will be many more in the future. Who does Voldemort even compare?

Tom flicked his wand with a flourish, aimed it at Voldemort, and spoke with a mocking tone.

"Didn't I beat you so badly in the Forbidden Forest last time that you couldn't even take care of yourself? Do you think I'd take a defeated opponent as my teacher?"

"Besides, you're not a very magnanimous person. If I acknowledge you as my teacher, the first thing you'll do after your resurrection is probably kill me."

Voldemort's expression suddenly turned cold. "You knew it was me?"

"If you're not the most suspicious person in the whole school, then who is it but Snape?" Tom scoffed.

Upon hearing Snape's name, the unconscious Harry instinctively frowned; it seemed that even being unconscious couldn't change his reaction to the name.

"Very well... very well..." Voldemort's voice was filled with rage and murderous intent, "Since you don't know what's good for you, then I'll have no choice but to kill you right here!"

Quirrell turned around, raised his wand, and unleashed a powerful spell he had planned in advance.

Tom dodged to the side. Although he possessed the talent of having a body of copper and iron, he didn't yet know the limits of his talent's defensive capabilities, so he naturally wouldn't risk his life.

If he were in his normal state, he would definitely squeeze out Voldemort's last bit of power to see what surprises he could bring.

But the effects of the berserk potion hadn't worn off yet, and all he wanted now was to send that annoying guy flying!

Tom raised his hand, and Harry floated up under the Levitation Charm. Tom smiled at Quirrell.

"Take this move, the Harry-Control Technique!"

To Quirrell's horrified gaze, Harry used his signature Rocket Headbutt on him. Harry wasn't exactly a magical weapon; if it hit the wall, he'd be the one to break first.

But against Quirrell, this was undoubtedly the ultimate weapon—or rather, the Voldemort within Quirrell, which Harry had firmly grasped.

Lily's protective magic on Harry, having accumulated power for ten years with nowhere to go, finally unleashed its full might today.

"Fool! Get out of the way!" Voldemort panicked.

Although the pain was physical for Quirrell, the wound was deep in his heart! Even though he had experienced that soul-tearing feeling countless times, he still feared it like a tiger.

What's even more shameless is that Harry didn't come alone; he was radiating light! He'd seen that light before—the punch he received in the Forbidden Forest that nearly killed him.

After escaping, he rested for half a month, and it took nearly two-thirds of Quirrell's life force to barely recover.

From that moment on, Voldemort knew that he had gained another nemesis.

Damn it, it's all Tom Riddle's doing! You actually learned such respectable magic?!

Quirrell was scared too, and scrambled to avoid Harry's rocket headbutt.

Just a second before Harry was about to make intimate contact with the ground, Tom twitched his finger, and Harry came to an abrupt stop.

Then, like a meteor hammer, he swung it out and kicked Quirrell, who had just gotten up. Quirrell screamed, and blue smoke rose from his chest.

Tom's five fingers moved in a series of motions, and Harry moved accordingly. If Professor Flitwick were here now, he would definitely recognize him.

This move was exactly the same as how Tom manipulated the pear during the exam. Harry shook up and down, then slammed his Iron Mountain against Quirrell, sending him flying.

It was another move reminiscent of the King of Chu's Farewell to His Concubine, with his hands frantically scratching at Quirrell's face.