24

Sitting in a very dimly lit room, a young man with black hair and glowing green eyes sat on his bed with a device illuminating his features.

This is exactly our protagonist, Harry Potter.

In the dimly lit room, the loud noise of snoring from the opposite side of the room disturbed the tranquil atmosphere of the tranquil night.

However, Harry, who was looking intently at the device in his lap was not bothered.

Reflected in his eyes was a live feed of a middle-aged man wearing a purple turban walking towards a grand underground chamber.

The chamber was devoid of anything except a single grand mirror that looked out of place and time.

As the man walked towards the mirror, he muttered under his breath and seemed to be annoyed.

"Where is the Stone? Where did that senile old man keep it?" Quirrell yelled in annoyance.

"Check the mirror you fool. The mirror." A raspy and hoarse voice echoed in the empty chamber, stunning Quirrell.

"Of Course. Yes, my lord." Quirrell quickly stepped towards the mirror and began to analysis it.

However, even after checking the mirror for a long time, he still didn't find anything.

Frustrated, he stood in front of the mirror and looked at his reflection.

The image in the mirror slowly morphed to show Quirrell holding the stone in his hands, kneeling by a throne and presenting it to the fully made body of his Lord.

"Ugh, where is the stone hidden????" increasingly frustrated, Quirrell was about to punch the mirror to smash it but a clicking sound rung in the empty chamber.

"What's that? Who's there?" Quirrell quickly turned around and shouted.

TWANG TWANG TWANG

BANg Bang BANG

In succession, sounds of strings vibrating filled the room, followed by the sound of metal hitting stone.

Just as Quirrell's voice escaped his lips, streaks of red filled his body.

"You fool. It's a trap." The raspy and hoarse voice shouted again, but it was too late.

"my Lord?" Quirrell, with fear and terror, along with confusion called out weakly as his body started to fall to the ground in bloody pieces.

"You absolute imbecile, I warned you about the senile fool's traps. You even doomed my chance of getting the Philosopher's stone. Serves you right." From the pieces of Quirrell's body, a dark smoke rose and coalesced together to form a hazy figure of another middle-aged man.

Cursing and swearing, the smoky figure floated over the dismembered body of its servant and tried kicking it. However, its body just phased through the bloody pieces.

"Tsk. Can't do anything right, even in death." The smoky figure clicked its tongue and seeing that it was out of options, decided to escape.

With incredible speeds, the smoke rose into the air and with an ear-piercing shriek, flew out of the chamber, into the dark night sky.

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"Well, that was easy. For a moment there I didn't think the traps would work. After all, he was a decent dark wizard when alive. He should have noticed the traps earlier. But I guess overconfidence and the previous traps they faced caused it to lower their guards.

Well, its time to get my spoils of war." With a light chuckle, Harry jumped out of his bed and dawning the invisibility cloak around him, headed towards the underground chamber from the 3rd floor corridor.

When Dumbledore had given harry the cloak as a Christmas present, he had secretly sewn in a piece of fabric while placing a tracking charm on it 'for safety'. However, with a quick pull, the poorly sewn fabric was ripped from the slivery cloak and thrown into the fireplace.

Bypassing the snoring Cerberus and the gentle music, Harry arrived in a room filled with slithering snake like tentacle plants, which were easily repelled with a cold blue fire emitted from his wand.

Walking calmly through the split open path between the Devil's Snare, Harry arrived in a chamber filled with flying keys buzzing around the room with a single broom stick floating in the distance.

"Accio, Key" with a point of his wand, Harry summoned the correct key to his hand and used it to open the large wooden door.

Walking through a dark corridor, he eventually arrived at a huge chamber with a life-sized wizards chess laid on the floor.

Walking to the edge of the chess set, he bent down and touched the corner black and white pattern.

Sending a pulse of energy into the chess board, Harry carefully manipulated his mana to stimulate certain positions on the black and white pattern.

Instantly, the chess pieces, which looked like they were ready for battle lowered their arms and turned to open up a path for Harry to walk through.

When he had encountered the trap for the first time, Harry had not played the game and won to gain access, but instead used his heaven's path library to make the board recognise him as the winner and gain access. Copying the actions from earlier in the morning, Harry easily bypassed the trap and headed towards a room which smelled worse than the devil's cesspool.

Ignoring the rotten corpse of a troll in the corner of the room, Harry continued forward.

Arriving in a room with seven potions bottles placed on a table with purple flames covering the exit, harry briefly pointed his wand towards the wall of flame and muttered an incantation.

PSST.

The wall of purple flame sizzled out of existence and parted to open up a way for Harry to walk through. As soon as he walked through the split wall, the flames regenerated and filled the gap they created.

Finally, arriving at the final chamber, Harry looked around the room to find the scene exactly as he saw in the live feed.

The mutilated pieces of Quirrell lying in a heap in front of a grand mirror and sheets of sharpened metal pierced into the ground at varying angles, still dripping with fresh blood made an odd sight.

"Ugh. If I didn't need these pieces to suck out the horcruxes, I would have just vaporised the smelly bastard."

Harry shook his head as he carefully approached the pieces of human body and put on some gloves and a mask.

Carefully picking up the dozen or so pieces, he placed them into separate bags, each with runes drawn on them to prevent the specimen inside from spoiling.

Storing the bags of human flesh inside his mokeskin pouch, he turned to the sheets of metal and similarly stored them into his pouch.

Banishing any traces of the traps set up in the morning, harry turned towards the mirror and smiled briefly.

"Mum, Dad. I hope we'll see each other some time again." Harry muttered as he looked into the mirror, smiling at the image of a middle-aged couple standing beside the boy.

They were the parents of Harry from his previous life.

Walking away from the mirror, harry followed the same path he took to arrive here and dawned the cloak once again.

Putting his hands in his pockets, he felt the smooth surface of the blood red stone as he read the brief description on it in the heaven's path library.

"Philosopher's Stone: Made by the Alchemist, Nicholas Flamel in the 15th century by condensing the blood and magic essence of a million lives, the stone can transmutate any material into gold on an atomic level. It can also be used to produce the elixir of life which can bring a person back from the brink of death. It contains immense mana reserves."

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