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Master Druid in Hogwarts.

This is the story of a kitten that acquired druid spells from another world and the wizards mistook it for an animagus. If you want to support me and give me some motivation to continue translating this novel, you can do it through Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/inferno303 *I don't own the copyright of such fanfic nor the contents of the novel nor the Harry Potter book.

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Chapter 71: What have I suffered so much for? (Edited)

Just as Fish was using his newly awakened rejuvenation spell to fully heal himself, a very exhausted Voldemort opted to relinquish control of his body to Quirrell, and then fell into a deep sleep.

Quirrell fled Hogwarts with his bruised body.

In his current state, he wouldn't dare stay at Hogwarts for long, at least not until he had recovered enough to be seen outside.

He had been using his savings to buy various potions for the Dark Lord, and now that he had to treat his own wounds, Quirrell had very little money left, so he was very distressed.

Although Voldemort had given him some addresses with some valuable items, if he used them, the Dark Lord's opinion of him would be lowered.

At the time, Quirrell was still thinking about the rewards Voldemort would give him after his resurrection, so he would never use the Dark Lord's treasures until he had to.

There were unicorns in the Forbidden Forest, but he didn't dare attack them until he had a plan to get the Philosopher's Stone, so he had to save his savings for now.

The only good thing was that he hadn't informed anyone of his return to school, so he didn't have to ask Dumbledore for permission.

Quirrell left quietly, just as he had arrived quietly....

By the time Quirrell had recovered from his external injuries and returned to Hogwarts, a week had passed.

"Quirinus, you're back at last." When Quirrell returned to school, Dumbledore approached him, "I have something I need your help with."

"Is there... is there... is there anything I can do for... for... for... for you?" Quirrell was back to being stuttering and cowardly.

"Actually, it's like this..." Behind half-moon lenses, blue eyes twinkled with inexplicable meaning, "I have something I need to hide at Hogwarts, and I wanted to ask you, the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, if there was any good way to prevent someone from stealing it"

"Can I... May I... may I ask... what... what... what is it?" Quirrell's heart skipped a beat, he forced himself to contain his excitement and asked cautiously.

"Oh, of course, there's nothing to hide," Dumbledore replied, lowering his eyes slightly to hide the regret in them, and answered, "I don't know if you remember the news of the Gringotts robbery before the term started, but that's what I'm protecting. The Philosopher's Stone that Nicolas Flamel gave me to keep."

Dumbledore paused, as if waiting for Quirrell to digest the news, before continuing, "I tried to find you a fortnight ago, but you suddenly went on leave, so I've been putting it off until now."

"Is... is... is... is that so? That's... that's... really... really... a coincidence," Quirrell said through gritted teeth, forcing a smile on his face.

At the same time, he growled aloud in his mind, 'So what's the purpose of what I've suffered for over ten days?!'

"It's alright," Dumbledore said with a smile, not knowing exactly what Quirrell had been going through these past two weeks, "The other professors have contributed, so the Philosopher's Stone is still safe for now."

"That's... that's... that's good, it's... a treasure... a treasure... it's something to look at... look at..." It took Quirrell a lot of effort to suppress his grief and anger, and he blurted it out, and then asked the most important question, "Where is the Stone.... Stone... Philosopher's Stone? What... what... what... what do I have to do?"

"A treasure? Perhaps. ..."

Dumbledore did not answer Quirrell's question immediately, but was more concerned with his off-handed comment.

After a few moments of emotion, he slowly replied, "I need you to prepare a plan to protect the Philosopher's Stone, whether it be some sort of magical trap, a powerful spell, or some magical creature that is good at guarding the door.... Anyway, as long as it keeps those pathetic guys who want the Philosopher's Stone away. Let me know when you're ready and I'll take you to the place."

[Hmph!]

Voldemort sneered in Quirrell's mind at Dumbledore's statement.

"It's... it's... it's... it's fine."

Not daring to reveal anything out of the ordinary, Quirrell nodded obediently, as he made an immediate decision in his mind, only to respond to Dumbledore in a few days so as not to reveal his urgency.

...

Three days later, Quirrell found Dumbledore and told him that he had prepared the means to protect the Philosopher's Stone.

"Thank you, Quirinus," Dumbledore's gaze passed through the half-moon glasses, rested for a moment on Quirrell's face, and then said, "I will expect you in the foyer at nine o'clock tonight."

Quirrell nodded and turned to leave the Headmaster's office.

As the day progressed, it was soon nine o'clock in the evening, and the students who were still wandering around returned to their dormitories, while Filch strolled around the castle with Mrs. Norris.

Quirrell left his office and made his way to the Great Dining Hall on the first floor, having waited until after nine o'clock to prove that he didn't care about the Philosopher's Stone.

"I...I...I...I'm sorry, I'm...I'm...I'm...I'm late," Quirrell, who was deliberately late, discovered that in addition to Dumbledore, there was also Rubeus Hagrid, the Hogwarts Ranger.

"Good afternoon, Ha... Hagrid."

Although he wasn't sure why Hagrid was here, Quirrell greeted him anyway.

"Good evening, Professor Quirrell."

Hagrid nodded cheerfully in response.

"Good evening, Quirinus, let's go." greeted Dumbledore with a smile before leading the way upstairs, Hagrid and Quirrell hurried after him.

Dumbledore and Hagrid were taller and walked with such a large stride that little Quirrell had to trot to keep up with them, but he was so eager to know exactly where the Philosopher's Stone was that he didn't complain.

The three of them soon reached the end of the corridor to the right of the fourth floor, and Quirrell looked at the familiar wooden door with mixed feelings.

Although he had guessed that the Philosopher's Stone was probably hidden behind this door, he was not happy when he confirmed it, for he remembered all that he had suffered before, and felt like a fool who had done something useless.

But the good news was that now that he had confirmed the whereabouts of the Philosopher's Stone, all he had to do was find a way to infiltrate and obtain it.

Quirrell suppressed the complicated thoughts from his mind and silently memorized how Dumbledore had opened the wooden door.

"Grrrr!"

As Dumbledore opened the wooden door and stepped inside, Fluffy's low growl came from inside the room.

"Hey! Fluffy! Good boy, it's me!"

Hagrid rushed in through the door, calming the huge three-headed dog.

Fluffy calmed down at the sight of Hagrid, calmed down and leaned close to him, licking and sniffing him.

"Oh, hehe, good boy, good boy."

Hagrid congratulated him happily as he petted all three heads in turn, not caring about the licking and drool on his face.

"This is the watchdog Hagrid helped prepare," Dumbledore said to Quirrell, who came in last, "As you can see, even if it's me, Fluffy won't stop at attacking me, he just recognizes Hagrid."

"And Fish."

Hagrid, who was interacting with Fluffy, suddenly turned his head and said a name Quirrell hated.

"Oh, yes, and Fish," Dumbledore smiled at the mention of Fish, "The boy's affinity is amazing, but Fluffy does a good job of surveillance, Fish has tried to get through the trapdoor a few times and has been stopped," Dumbledore added, pointing to the trapdoor at Fluffy's feet.

He was mainly worried that Quirrell would do something harmful to Fish in order to get through Fluffy, so he just told him ahead of time.

It's just that Dumbledore was too late to say this, Quirrell had already searched Fish had suffered at his hands.

"Yes-yes-yes? It's...it's a good.... good... good dog." said Quirrell with a forced smile, but with a sadness only he knew.