HP: The Moon Over the Magic Academy

Chapter 53 Magic Stone 3

Harry looked at Quirrell's smug expression and struggled desperately to break free of the ropes binding him.

"Professor Snape clearly dislikes me..."

Voldemort's attention was completely drawn to Harry. "Of course he doesn't like you. Given what your father did, it's already a miracle he doesn't hate you."

As Landric listened to Harry and Voldemort's conversation, his lips moved silently.

His body quietly lifted off the ground, about a centimeter away, and then he controlled his body to slowly move away from the battlefield.

He knew what Voldemort was.

If they realized they couldn't find the Philosopher's Stone, and Harry remained silent, who would suffer the consequences? Even a fool could figure it out.

As Voldemort's voice faded, Harry couldn't help but recall the times he was always targeted by Snape.

Okay, okay, everyone else's son is the one who ruins the father's life, but in his case, it's the father who ruins the son's life.

The thought of Snape's sinister gaze every time he approached Rand truly broke Harry.

"Don't be foolish, Dumbledore's savior boy, come to me, or you'll end up like your parents... kneeling on the ground begging for your life before you die, hahahahahaha..."

Or, Rozier…”

Harry's pupils contracted, and he shouted sharply, "You dare!"

"Hehehe, look at this touching scene, a pawn raised by Dumbledore has fallen in love with a Slytherin..."

Harry somehow broke free of his ropes and rushed toward the door at an incredible speed.

Voldemort screamed, "Don't let him get away! Catch him, and that Roze too..."

Voldemort paused, noticing the empty corner.

His temple twitched. "Kill! Kill! Kill them all!"

Landric watched from outside as Harry was dragged back by Quirrell, and then the door was slowly closed by magic.

That's terrifying! Voldemort was truly brain-dead. Oh, no, I should say, what kind of intelligent person would be capable of cutting themselves into pieces?

While Voldemort's attention was drawn to Harry, he quietly used the Levitation Charm to move himself away.

As for Harry, Landric smiled slightly.

His miraculous survival... is no empty boast.

Landric's magic failed to detect Dumbledore's phoenix; his pale fingers turned the necklace around his neck.

The magic stone in his pocket vanished without a trace in an instant.

Let Dumbledore go find it.

"Thump___", the boy fell to the ground, his pupils gradually dilating, his bright and clear eyes becoming empty.

If you're going to play the victim, make it real.

As the boy's life was fading, he fell into the savior's eyes just before the door closed.

"No!!"

Resentment arose.

Quirrell gripped Harry's wrist tightly.

Instantly, a piercing pain shot through Harry's forehead scar, and it felt as if his head was about to be cleaved in two.

Harry struggled even more fiercely, staring at Voldemort with bloodshot eyes.

Quirrell was startled by that look and reflexively released his grip.

Harry curled up in pain, but the pain gradually lessened as Quirrell let go.

Voldemort screamed, "You idiot, what are you doing? Grab him!"

"No, Master, my hand... it's burning hot..."

"Then kill him with a spell! You idiot, you bastard!"

Quirrell's eyes sharpened, and he raised his wand.

Harry's mind was racing at that moment. He reached out and grabbed Quirrell's exposed skin, refusing to let go of his arm.

Quirrell swung his arms wildly, almost lifting Harry up into the air.

Harry dared not let go, and at that moment he was like a protective puppy, not letting anyone get close to his master.

As Harry's consciousness began to fade, he seemed to see a flash of golden light before his eyes. "Rand...save...him..."

………………

Harry opened his eyes again, and the familiar medical lights came into view.

A smiling face came into Harry's view.

It was Dumbledore… His body stiffened for a moment.

"What's wrong, child? Don't you want to talk when you see me?"

Harry stared blankly at Dumbledore, then suddenly realized, "Rand! Headmaster! How is Landric Rozier?"

Upon hearing this, Dumbledore's smile remained unchanged. "He's alright now. You are all brave children."

"Headmaster Dumbledore, I'm just a little uneasy about waking up to find a face suddenly appearing in front of me." This statement can be considered an answer to Dumbledore's first question.

Dumbledore placed his hand on Harry's shoulder. "Well then, child, there's one more question... the Philosopher's Stone..."

Dumbledore didn't ask directly, but Harry met his eyes. "It seems to be destroyed, Headmaster."

Dumbledore sighed. "Well, son, you should get some rest."

Harry opened his mouth as if to say something.

"Go to sleep, child. The child you're worried about will recover faster than you."

Harry's heart finally settled down.

"Headmaster, Voldemort is not dead."

After saying that, Harry pulled the covers over his head, indicating that he was going to sleep.

Dumbledore paused, a satisfied glint in his crescent-shaped glasses.

As long as the result is correct, the process doesn't matter.

After Dumbledore left, Harry, who had been covering his head, sat up. His mind was filled with too many questions, which tormented him and kept him from sleeping.

The person he was most worried about, he hadn't even seen what happened to that person yet.

What others say is never as reassuring as seeing it for yourself.

Harry wandered through the wards like a ghost until he stopped in front of one room.

The boy on the bed had his eyes closed, bathed in the soft moonlight. His face was pale, and the wide-sleeved robe he wore made him look even thinner.

The usually unruly young master was now quietly asleep beside the silver-haired boy's bed.

Seeing this, Harry couldn't describe how he felt.

Worry, resentment, jealousy...

All his emotions are now being drawn to the boy in the bed.

Harry stood outside the door for a long time, until his feet went numb, before dragging himself away.