Quirrell's Harvest

After leaving the dungeon, Tver did not investigate the fourth floor. Instead, he went straight back to his office, playing the part of an outstanding, guileless, utterly straightforward professor.

This was precisely when he should stay as far away from Quirrell as possible.

Then, this professor, as kind and harmless as a little white rabbit, took out a large sheet of parchment—"Everything Is Permitted"—and a large blot of ink immediately appeared on it.

Black lines extended from the center of the blot, continuously sketching out every building within the grounds of Hogwarts Castle.

However, this professor did not know the school very well, so the details were drawn somewhat roughly. Some ink lines were thick, some thin, and some were tangled into a mess.

But none of that mattered. What mattered was that thirty names had appeared on it, slowly moving across the map.

The Weasley Brothers were lingering in the kitchen, presumably asking the house-elves for food;

Cedric happened to be on his way to the kitchen. In a flash, the three met in the kitchen;

There was also the only name flickering with golden light, exceptionally conspicuous—Harry Potter.

He was staying still in the common room, with Hermione Granger's name nearby.

Tver moved his wand over Harry's name. With a flash of golden light, a clear voice came from within.

"...I was only one second away from hitting the troll before Malfoy did!"

"I saw it. Hermione was clearly creating an opportunity for you, but Malfoy snatched it!" That was Ron's voice.

"So you two aren't fighting anymore?"

"If she wasn't so stuck-up."

"If he stopped speaking badly about me." Only then did Hermione's voice ring out.

After the three bickered for a while, they ultimately made up and discussed that evening's lessons like friends.

Once he confirmed that the badges and the map were functioning properly, Tver put away the parchment—"Nothing Is True."

This was the Magic Dot Map Tver had made by imitating the Marauder's Map. With the badges serving as a medium, he had made a small improvement based on the principles of the Sneakoscope, allowing him to hear sounds transmitted by the badge wearers.

As for "Everything Is Permitted" and "Nothing Is True," they were his favorite declaration, so he had used them as the map's incantations.

The next key was Quirrell. As long as—

Knock, knock, knock.

A sudden knock at the door interrupted Tver's thoughts.

He looked helplessly toward the door.

It was Quirrell. Tver could smell that stench on him even through the door.

Who knew whether he was doing it on purpose, coming here specifically while Tver was avoiding him.

But no matter how helpless he felt, he still had to open the door. It would not do if Quirrell kept knocking and drew someone else's attention.

The moment the door opened a crack, Quirrell slipped inside with an agility he had never displayed before.

After gently closing the door, Quirrell strode smugly over and sat down in front of Tver.

Tver put away the parchment before looking at him expressionlessly. Their expressions formed a sharp contrast.

"Looks like you gained quite a lot tonight?"

Quirrell became even smugger, his leg beginning to shake unconsciously.

"Of course. I've already figured it out. Only one person has been keeping an eye on that corridor. Guess who?"

"Snape."

"?"

Quirrell's shaking leg stopped instantly. Questioning his entire existence, he demanded loudly, "How did you know?!"

Tver looked at Quirrell with an ambiguous smile. "Tell me what you found first."

After recalling the events, Quirrell said slowly and uncertainly, "After drawing the students and professors away tonight, I secretly slipped toward the fourth floor. But I didn't go in. I opened the door, then hid by the entrance and watched."

"Before long, Snape hurried over. When he saw the door open, he panicked and rushed straight inside."

Quirrell gave a gloating snicker, his expression slightly twisted.

"Heh heh, that three-headed creature even scratched him. He limped when he came out."

"So the reason you asked me to stall for time tonight was just to verify something like this?"

"Isn't that enough?!" Quirrell sprang to his feet. "Now, as long as we avoid Snape, we can go take the Philosopher's Stone!"

Tver shook his head in disappointment.

"Think about it. In this school, aside from Professor McGonagall, who manages the school's affairs, who else could be called Dumbledore's capable assistant but Snape?"

"And you went through all this trouble just to confirm someone you could have guessed."

Kid, I'm very disappointed in you.

"I... I..." Quirrell stammered for a long time without managing to say a single complete sentence.

Even he felt that he had been a little foolish tonight. Snape had even followed him for a while when he came over that evening. It was like using a cannon to kill a mosquito—far too wasteful.

"Stop stammering. What's your next plan?"

"Why should I tell you?" Quirrell suddenly put on a defiant front.

"Then don't come asking me for help next time. Preparing lessons for the students is hard enough work. Unlike you, pretending to be like Filch."

Quirrell panicked. His strength and cunning were both inferior to Tver's. If he were truly on his own, his progress would definitely be much slower than Tver's.

"Wait, I've already been investigating Snape's arrangements. I can confirm that they involve potions!"

"Are you an idiot? Snape, a Potions master, prepared potions—did you really need to confirm that?!"

"Uh, fine." Quirrell gave an embarrassed laugh. "Anyway, you handle the chessboard, and I'll handle the potions. As long as we clear these two obstacles, we'll be able to get the Philosopher's Stone!"

Tver gave Quirrell's slightly pale face an amused glance.

It's me. Only I can obtain the Philosopher's Stone.

"Then I'll have to ask you to work harder. Remember, the Philosopher's Stone is our priority. Don't get distracted by pointless nonsense."

Quirrell nodded unconcernedly and cautiously left the office.

"He won't live much longer." The moment Quirrell left, the ring spoke impatiently.

"Half his life force has been drained by the main body. It's similar to your situation, only worse. Unless something unexpected happens, he has only a few months left—half a year at most."

Tver took out the ring and turned it over in his hand.

"As I recall, when a soul drains life force, it can condense into a semi-physical form. So why does your main body remain attached to Quirrell?"

"Ha, of course it makes escaping easier!"

Once the ring said that, Tver understood.

In a soul state, one could only be bound after being made into a Horcrux. But a semi-physical form was different—he had at least ten ways to trap Voldemort.

"So Voldemort also knows this is a trap set specifically for him?"

"Obviously. Other than that fool Quirrell, who doesn't know this is a trap? They might as well put up a sign at the entrance saying, 'Philosopher's Stone Inside.'"

"Of course, that fool Quirrell might have realized it too..."

Tver ignored the ring's incessant chatter and looked instead at the mark on his wrist.

This was Dumbledore's open scheme, but even if it was a trap, he would step into it!

"By the way, even your main body can't deal with this curse?"

The ring fell abruptly silent, then gave a sinister chuckle.

"Did you forget? A curse is an evil prophecy. Once it touches you, there's no escaping it~"