Hogwarts: I'm Harry's older cousin

Chapter 104, Section 102. Two Saviors? Voldemort Chooses Again!

"Why? Hermione, you and Harry should go. You're much more useful than me."

Upon hearing Hermione's words, Neville immediately cried out.

"There's almost nothing you don't know."

Hermione's reputation as a know-it-all is well-deserved; her knowledge surpasses that of children who grew up in the wizarding world.

There is a way to deal with the curse almost anytime.

"Listen to me, Neville," Hermione said calmly. "You and Harry are the strongest fighters among us."

If Hermione has the most knowledge among them, then Harry and Neville are the strongest in actual combat.

Yes, in real combat.

After receiving group tutoring from the professors, Harry fully demonstrated his amazing talent. His learning progress was not fast, but his growth was exceptionally rapid.

Neville, on the other hand, relies on his combat instincts. He often imitates Dudley's fighting style, though not as strongly.

There's actually another Malfoy, but he's already unconscious.

As for Ron, these are not his areas of expertise; he has more suitable methods.

"In terms of knowledge, you're actually no worse than me. Especially you, Harry. You've been secretly working hard lately, haven't you?"

Harry, who had been called out, scratched his head sheepishly.

He was indeed secretly studying, and more and more people were calling Dali "Brother D," which made him feel threatened.

I was the one who did it first; I'm clearly the real younger brother.

It's not that I don't want Dali to be popular, it's just that some kind of emotion is acting up.

Ron stared at Harry in disbelief, his eyes wide.

"Didn't we always eat, sleep, exercise, and play together? How come I didn't know you were secretly studying hard?"

Hermione reiterated, "Harry, Neville, the rest is up to you! But don't push yourselves too hard, I think Dudley will be here soon."

Harry asked, "But we drank the potion, so what about D-bro?"

"Dullie will definitely have a way, because that's Dudley!" Hermione said confidently.

"Yes, that's Dudley, there's bound to be a way."

"Yes!" Harry and Neville exchanged a glance and nodded vigorously.

So Neville and Harry each drank half of the potion and then went into the wall of fire.

Almost simultaneously, an unseen shadow followed them inside.

This is an empty room, with nothing inside except for a mirror placed in the very center.

There were no doors at the back of the room, which meant this was the last room.

"Perhaps we can finish the test before Brother D arrives."

Such a thought couldn't help but rise in Harry's mind.

"Harry, this mirror? Come and see!"

A scream interrupted Harry's thoughts. Neville was standing in front of the mirror, staring intently at his reflection.

Harry walked over and recognized the mirror; it was the same mirror he had seen during the Christmas holidays.

The Mirror of Eris.

"I saw my parents! They! They've recovered!"

Neville looked extremely agitated, almost on the verge of tears.

"Listen to me, Neville. That's not true!"

Having heard Dudley explain the principles of the Mirror of Erised, Harry quickly stepped forward to calm the agitated Neville: "Calm down."

"I also saw my parents in there, but it was fake, it was an illusion."

"Porter is right."

An unfamiliar voice rang out, and Harry turned around to see a familiar yet strange figure standing in the corner of the room.

They were the only professors who didn't give them extra lessons.

Professor Quirrell.

The professor who fainted from fright at the Halloween dinner.

At this moment, he changed his usual demeanor and stood at the door with an attitude completely different from before.

"I never expected to run into you here, Potter."

He spoke without a single stutter, and his original stuttering had disappeared.

Quirrell stared at Harry with a gloomy expression, though he seemed to be deliberately trying to hide his backside, and his expression looked somewhat unnatural.

Is Professor Quirrell the final test?

No, something's not right.

Suddenly, Harry's forehead scar began to throb with intense pain, accompanied by a burning sensation.

That feeling made him feel like his head was about to split open.

"Harry Potter!"

In a daze, Harry seemed to hear another voice, a voice that did not belong to Quirrell at all.

"Let me see him! Face to face!"

Quirrell's expression was very unnatural. He wanted to say something, but he couldn't resist the voice of the person who spoke. He slowly untied the thick towel wrapped around his head, turned around, and revealed the back of his head. It was not the back of a normal person's head. There was another human face on it.

"Look what I've become!"

The distorted face began to speak, but it didn't speak through its vocal cords; it didn't have those. The opening and closing of its mouth was quite horrifying.

"All that's left are shadows and steam—it's all your fault, Potter!"

Voldemort, or rather, just the remnant soul of Voldemort.

"Because of you! It's all because of you that I now have to share a body with someone else."

"But I never dreamed that you would appear in front of me."

As he spoke, Voldemort reversed his control, raising Quirrell's wand. With a gentle lift, countless ropes appeared out of thin air, binding Harry tightly.

Faced with such a vast difference in strength, Harry had no power to resist whatsoever.

In terms of experience, magic, and knowledge, they were far inferior to their opponent, even though it was just a remnant soul.

Voldemort scrutinized Harry, finding nothing different about him compared to the other young wizards: "Look at him, no matter how you look at him, he's clearly just an extremely ordinary, unremarkable young wizard. Why... why was he able to kill that perfect me, that powerful me, eleven years ago?"

His tone was filled with deep confusion and doubt, while his eyes were already filled with naked killing intent.

This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity—a chance to kill Harry Potter.

While the other person was talking to Harry, Neville secretly took a few seeds out of his pocket.

A spell struck Neville's wrist, scattering seeds all over the ground.

"Don't try anything funny in front of me, little guy."

Voldemort then noticed Neville, whose blood-red pupils narrowed slightly upon seeing him.

"Neville Neville Longbottom!"

He recognized Neville, which triggered some unpleasant memories for him.

It is well known that wizards do not believe in science; they believe in prophecy.

In the prophecy of destroying the Dark Lord, it wasn't just Harry who met the requirements; there was another person who did. In other words, there should have been two prophetic children who could kill the Dark Lord.

One is the famous Harry Potter, and the other is Neville Longbottom in front of me.

Theoretically, the savior was among them, but Voldemort just happened to choose Harry.

Voldemort looked at the two of them with a complicated expression.

Even as the Dark Lord, he began to waver and panic slightly.

Is the prophecy about to come true again?!

Are we going to make him choose again? And die again?

No! Absolutely not!

(End of this chapter)