Chapter 69: You've Been Strengthened, Hurry Up

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In the previous levels, most were designed by Tom and remained unchanged. However, Snape's level was different; Tom provided the idea, but the data inside was rearranged.

To crack this puzzle, one had to diligently calculate and reason step by step, ultimately following the school names on the bottles to take the magical potion. Tom had no doubt that Snape had probably placed poison in the other bottles – he was that ruthless.

Tom spent some time writing and drawing on paper, successfully solving the puzzle.

"To proceed, you need the Euphoria potion, and to go back, you need to drink the Beauxbatons potion," Tom shared his reasoning with Professor McGonagall, who looked through it and found no mistakes. She then picked up the potion bottle labeled "Euphoria."

The sizes of the potion bottles were consistent, and each contained enough for five or six people to take a sip.

McGonagall glanced at Tom. "You can go back now."

As expected, McGonagall didn't want him to face danger any longer. However, Tom wasn't flustered. "Did Professor Dumbledore instruct you to do this? I'm indispensable in the final level."

McGonagall's expression stiffened. Indeed, Dumbledore had only told her to bring Tom along but hadn't explicitly instructed Tom to go back before the final level.

"Maybe this child is indeed a key element in the last level," McGonagall thought helplessly. Dumbledore's intentions were hard to decipher, and she didn't want to jeopardize his plan by acting on her own.

Was Tom the key to the final level? Of course not! The final level involved the Mirror of Erised, and only someone who desired the Stone but not to use it could retrieve it from the mirror. Tom, with his unbridled desire for wealth, couldn't help but harbor greed for the Stone.

But McGonagall had no knowledge of this. She sighed, agreed to let Tom stay, but insisted he stand behind her and take care of himself.

She drank the "Euphoria" potion, passed through the flames, and entered the last room. A familiar figure appeared in her sight – Quirrell.

He stood in front of the Mirror of Erised, looking serious and deep. Gone were the usual timidity and absurdity; he seemed calm and profound.

"It's really you, Quirinus," McGonagall said as if verifying something, letting out a breath. She sincerely hoped not to encounter Snape here.

"Actually, I thought it would be that big bat, Snape!" Quirrell spoke. His face, previously twitching comically, was now still.

"Severus..." Quirrell suddenly burst into laughter. "I really have to thank Professor Snape! Thanks to him, sniffing around with his hooked nose, mocking me everywhere. Who in the school would suspect poor, stuttering Professor Quirrell? Snape should be commended!"

He laughed manically, seemingly out of breath. "And the so-called savior – Harry Potter. Is he still monitoring Snape? How did he defeat the master? Love, they say?"

"Master?" McGonagall squinted her eyes.

"Yes, the master!" Quirrell's expression became ecstatic. "My great master has bestowed knowledge upon me! Now I am more powerful than ever. Dumbledore is old, like a candle in the wind, while my master is eternal!"

Quirrell drew his wand with a snap. "Milerva, submit to the master! A place by the master's side is reserved for you."

In response, a red light shot out from the tip of McGonagall's wand, but Quirrell casually deflected it. His eyes now resembled snake pupils, long and narrow. Clearly, weakened Voldemort couldn't directly intervene, but he had shared some of his power.

Now, confident and full of himself, Quirrell challenged McGonagall. A fierce duel unfolded.

Quirrell cast a spell, deflecting McGonagall's "Transfiguration," but she wasn't idle either. She turned scattered stones into various weapons, shooting them towards Quirrell.

In an instant, Quirrell, torn between the attacks, became battered with several bleeding wounds. But the unicorn blood he had consumed earlier began to take effect. His flesh wounds rapidly healed, and Voldemort within him began channeling his stored power into Quirrell.

Quirrell's eyes turned bloodshot, and he roared, casting a powerful Shield Charm that blocked McGonagall's spells and strange "weapons." Simultaneously, he snapped his fingers, summoning several ropes that skillfully avoided Tom's claws and tightly bound him.

Juggling between attacking McGonagall and dealing with Tom, Quirrell had nearly exhausted himself. The act of creating ropes strong enough to bind a three-headed dog and the effort of casting a Shield Charm of such magnitude consumed tremendous magical energy.

But it was all worth it.

"Hoo, hoo..." Quirrell, panting heavily, looked at Tom. In the moment of tying him up, Quirrell had turned a pebble on the ground into a short sword and thrust it through the central head of the three-headed dog. During their earlier scuffle, he had noticed the anomaly – only the central head seemed conscious.

Quirrell didn't know if this was normal, but it didn't matter. He instantly shattered the consciousness of the central head.

"Master, I've done it!" Quirrell laughed triumphantly.

The scene was cruel. The light in the eyes of the central head gradually dissipated, and Tom's form wavered.

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(End of this chapter)