Old Dumbledore, Why Are You Looking at Me?

"Dumbledore, you're back?"

Quirrell panicked when he saw Dumbledore suddenly appear.

The tall and thin Dumbledore stood before Quirrell, his face expressionless, like an insurmountable, calm wall.

Quirrell waved his wand. "Avada Kedavra!"

The green light shot out rapidly, bypassing Dumbledore and heading straight for Harry on the dragon's back.

Dumbledore glance at the Killing Curse; he simply waved his wand, summoning a piece of pebbles to Killing Curse it.

The green light struck the stone and vanished instantly, as if it had never existed.

"Kill him! Kill him!"

The hoarse, shrill voice continued to howl.

But Quirrell just stood there, his hand holding the wand trembling slightly, a sense of powerlessness welling up inside him.

Facing Dumbledore, who was hailed as "the greatest wizard of our time," Quirrell felt no desire to fight whatsoever.

Dumbledore silently waved his wand again, and a blinding white light shot out from the tip of the wand, landing on Quirrell's head.

Black smoke billowed from Quirrell's head under the blinding white light.

"Aaaaaaaaahhhhhh!"

Quirrell clutched his scalp, letting out a chilling howl interspersed with Voldemort's shrill roar.

Black smoke billowed from his head, swirling in the air and coalescing into a cloud of black mist with a hideous face.

As soon as the black mist appeared, the facial features on its face seemed to have their own consciousness, colliding haphazardly and screaming incessantly as it rushed towards Norbert, seemingly intent on tearing the two people above it apart.

Although it was imposing, this fragment of soul was utterly insignificant in front of Dumbledore.

With a mere wave of his wand, a dazzling ray of light shot out and bound the black mist in the blink of an eye.

As soon as the light touched the black mist, the wailing intensified abruptly, as the black mist struggled frantically, almost snapping the light.

But it quickly lost its strength and slowly dissipated as the light faded.

The surroundings suddenly became quiet.

Silan wasn't surprised at all by this.

If even a tiny fragment of Voldemort's soul could kill someone in front of Dumbledore, then Merlin probably would have a whole room full of pink lace Barbie dresses.

"Thump."

Voldemort struggled violently as he was pulled from Quirrell's body; the pain was no less than being skinned alive.

This really took a toll on Quirrell, causing him to lose consciousness and fall backward to the ground.

The only good news is that he can finally lie down and sleep now.

"I'm sorry, children, I'm late." Dumbledore turned to Harry and Silan.

Under Silan's command, Norbert folded his wings and slowly walked up to Dumbledore.

"Professor Dumbledore, thank God!"

Harry jumped off Norbert's back, but his legs gave way and he almost fell to the ground. Luckily, Silan caught him.

"Thank you, Silan."

"You're welcome."

Dumbledore looked at Harry and Silan meaningfully, a faint smile playing on his lips, but his brow remained furrowed.

"Sir!" Harry exclaimed urgently, "The Philosopher's Stone! Quirrell! He wants the Philosopher's Stone to resurrect Voldemort, it's right on his head! I always thought Professor Snape was the one trying to steal the Philosopher's Stone..."

Harry stopped mid-sentence.

Snape appeared silently behind Dumbledore like a large bat with its wings folded, staring at him angrily.

He was probably a little angry that Harry doubted him.

"Quirrell was right, Snape really does fly around like a giant bat." Harry didn't dare say this aloud, but just muttered it to himself.

"Haha, don't worry." Dumbledore looked at him with a smile, even his beard seemed to dance with joy. "Quirrell didn't get the Philosopher's Stone, it's safe now, you've done a great job."

"Oh, the Philosopher's Stone."

Harry took the Philosopher's Stone out of his pocket and handed it to Dumbledore.

Through Harry's fingers, Silan could clearly see the glittering red Philosopher's Stone.

According to the original plot, the Philosopher's Stone would be destroyed, Silan must come into contact with Philosopher's Stone before that happens.

However, he needs to find the right time.

"Professor Snape, please take Quirrell to St. Mungo's Hospital. He will receive proper treatment there." Dumbledore took the Philosopher's Stone and turned to Snape.

Snape nodded silently, used his wand to levitate Quirrell, and carried him outside.

Watching them leave, Silan asked, "Professor Dumbledore, what happened to Quirrell?"

"He was possessed by Voldemort. I just pulled Voldemort out, but he was injured in the process. He'll probably be spending the rest of his life in the Magical Maladies and Injuries."

"Voldemort is ruthless to his enemies, and equally cold-blooded to his followers," Dumbledore said calmly, flicking his Elder Wand with his fingers.

"Sir, the Voldemort... no, Voldemort isn't dead yet?"

"Harry, I'm glad you call him that. We should always use the correct names for things; if we fear a name, we'll fear the thing itself even more."

Dumbledore hooked his thumb around the wand, then gently raised the other fingers, placing them one on top of the wand in turn. "You're right, he hasn't disappeared. Perhaps he's somewhere in the world, searching for a body he'll share. He's not truly alive, but he's also very difficult to truly kill."

At this point, Dumbledore looked at Harry and Silan: "We need to be prepared to fight him to the death in the future. Of course, we also need to be careful that there isn't a second Dark Lord."

Silan always felt that when Dumbledore spoke the second half of his sentence, his gaze would always fall on her, intentionally or unintentionally.

Dumbledore, why are you looking at me like that?

I never intended to become the Dark Lord.

He simply smiled and met Dumbledore's gaze, but Dumbledore looked away first.

"Sir, I think I..." Harry, somewhat agitated.

"Don't get agitated, child." Dumbledore bent down and gently patted his shoulder. "We have plenty of time, don't we?"

"We can talk about some things later. I know your doubts and I understand your thirst for the truth," Dumbledore sighed. "But you must know that the truth is a beautiful and terrible thing, and it needs to be treated with care. Right now, you need rest and healing."

Why not go to the Hospital Wing?

Harry nodded silently.

Once his mind relaxed, a wave of physical fatigue washed over him, making him feel sore and achy all over.

Dumbledore looked at Silan, his gaze lingering on him for a moment before shifting to Norbert.

"However, before we go to the Hospital Wing, we need to settle this little Dragon in first."