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Chapter 43: Are You Interested in Working with Me?
🕑 Added 2025-02-19 13:20:11 +0000 UTC
Yes, Quirrell's mentality was off, and it was a very serious problem!
He was extremely nervous now—not just him, but Voldemort as well.
Quirrell didn't know why his master, Voldemort, was acting like this, but that didn’t stop him from guessing. Was it because Voldemort was too weak right now? Was that why he couldn't deal with Dumbledore?
On top of that, Noah's earlier mind games had rattled him. He felt as though all his secrets had been exposed, and that Dumbledore was already on his way.
They couldn’t possibly fight Dumbledore. If they stayed, they wouldn’t be leaving here safely!
The best-case scenario? He might die here. The worst? He’d be sent to Azkaban.
Azkaban was a terrifying place, guarded by Dementors—those dreadful, soul-sucking creatures.
They fed on positive emotions, draining prisoners of all hope, joy, and even the will to live. Over time, the inmates lost their sanity, trapped in an endless cycle of their worst memories. Some went mad. Others simply withered away in despair.
Quirrell swore he would rather die than be sent to that wretched place!
So, he chose to flee. He wanted to escape this nightmare as quickly as possible!
What was even more interesting was that Voldemort didn’t stop him. In fact, he seemed to approve and even gave him suggestions on how to do it.
So after Quirrell cast Incendio, he casually followed up with Impedimenta before turning around to leave.
And those students?
In both his and Voldemort's eyes, they were probably nothing more than ashes by now.
Even though he had noticed Noah casting Protego Totalum—a high-level protection spell—he was just a first-year student. How much magic power could he possibly have?
By the time Dumbledore arrived, he’d have more pressing concerns. If eight students died at once, his position as Headmaster would be in jeopardy. He might even face an inquiry from the Ministry—or worse, be sent to Azkaban himself.
"What a shame we didn’t find the Philosopher’s Stone."
Quirrell sighed. He could only retreat for now.
While taking hostages might have been a good idea, time was short, and Voldemort had agreed that escaping was the priority.
But just as Quirrell neared the exit, he felt something was off.
The air was thick with magic, and a powerful spell was forming behind him.
"Protego!"
Acting purely on instinct, Quirrell quickly cast a shield spell on himself.
Just as he did, flames erupted around him.
Someone had attacked him!
Quirrell didn’t have time to figure out who it was—he needed to leave.
But the worst part? His opponent was experienced. They knew exactly how to counter him.
A sudden force struck him, and Quirrell’s entire body seized up.
"Silencio!"
A powerful Silencing Charm—one that forced him to stop casting magic.
This wasn’t an ordinary spell. To use Silencio effectively in battle, the caster had to time it perfectly. If they were too fast, the magic would miss its target. If they were too slow, the opponent would have already finished their spell.
The fact that it worked meant the caster was either highly familiar with Quirrell’s movements or an extremely skilled magician.
Quirrell panicked. There was only one person at Hogwarts who could be that precise.
"Dumbledore!"
His throat constricted. He couldn't speak or cast spells.
The Silencio had thrown his magic into disarray. His own power surged chaotically inside him, threatening to explode.
There was no time to think. He had only one option—run!
If he could just escape, he might have a chance.
If not…
Then he was either going to die or spend the rest of his life at the mercy of the Dementors.
"Run! Faster!"
Quirrell sprinted forward.
But how could he outrun magic?
He barely took two steps before he felt a terrifying force surge from behind him, accompanied by a voice he never expected.
"Sectumsempra!"
It was a child’s voice.
Quirrell recognized it immediately.
Noah Finniel.
The next moment, all thought left him—because all he felt was pain.
Noah’s magic was like a razor-sharp blade, slicing through Quirrell’s back. His robes were instantly soaked with blood.
The agony was unbearable.
Quirrell didn’t even have time to scream.
He collapsed.
---
Harry and Ron were frozen in place, horrified.
They had never seen anything like this.
Especially when they noticed a dark mist rising from Quirrell’s body.
They had no idea what it was.
Compared to them, Kenn and the others remained calm.
They had seen Noah’s strength before, but this was different.
This time, he was much stronger.
That realization filled them with both pressure and motivation.
"Oh my God! What is this?! What are you doing?!"
A sharp voice rang out from behind them.
They didn’t even need to turn around to know who it was.
"Professor McGonagall..."
---
"Long time no see, McGonagall."
Before Noah could respond, a figure emerged from the black mist.
A voice echoed through the chamber.
A voice like death itself.
Hoarse. Sharp. Inhuman.
"Tom? No... Riddle! Is that you?"
Professor McGonagall reacted instantly.
She pulled out her wand and stepped protectively in front of the students, her eyes locked onto the mist.
"Noah, get them back to the dormitory—now! And alert Professor Snape! The entire school must be placed on high alert!"
Voldemort chuckled.
"Ah... such a nostalgic name."
But he wasn’t interested in McGonagall.
His gaze was locked onto Noah.
"Noah Finniel, is it? You are impressive... truly impressive. Your potential may even surpass my own someday."
Noah narrowed his eyes.
"Should I say thank you?"
Voldemort ignored his sarcasm.
"Are you interested in joining me? I can offer you far more than what this school ever could."
His voice was icy, yet filled with fervor.
Like a madman.
With that single question, the entire atmosphere shifted.
McGonagall tensed.
Harry and Ron held their breath.
Even Kenn and the others felt their bodies go rigid.
All eyes were now on Noah.
Would he refuse?
Or would he listen to the Dark Lord’s offer?
---
