The Slytherin students followed him, forming a line as they headed down to the dungeons.
As he passed Quirrell, Tom stepped on Quirrell's hand. Quirrell's fingers twitched, but he did not wake.
Tom stepped on it again, but Quirrell still did not wake.
Tom did not step on him again, but as he stepped over Quirrell's head, the sole of his shoe brushed across Quirrell's turban.
Daphne followed behind Tom and stepped on Quirrell's hand as well.
Zabini stepped on Quirrell's foot, Nott stepped on Quirrell's robe, and after hesitating for a moment, Malfoy still chose to walk around Quirrell.
Crabbe did not hesitate. He stepped on Quirrell's calf.
Goyle did not hesitate either. He stepped on Quirrell's other calf.
One after another, the Slytherin students stepped over Quirrell's body.
Some stepped on his hands, some on his feet, some on his legs, and some on his backside.
Quirrell lay prone on the floor without moving, but his fingers were trembling.
"Damn Tom Riddle!"
Quirrell, pretending to be unconscious, cursed furiously in his heart. The faint pressure at his temples nearly made him break character.
"You are not allowed to insult that name! You useless host, you actually let that brat offend me! Once I am resurrected, I'll be the first to twist off his head!"
Voldemort roared madly within Quirrell's consciousness, so furious he was about to explode.
Not only did someone share his exact name, but he even dared to step on his face!
Quirrell felt like crying without tears.
Hadn't he stayed face-down because he was afraid that falling onto his back would crack the back of his head and alert his master? How had it all become his fault in the end?
Tom could not hear Voldemort's roars. He walked at the front of the group,