"Boy!" Voldemort, infuriated, spat venomously, "You ill-mannered orphan..."
"Oh, haha." Harry retorted with a cold laugh, "My parents left me because you killed them, yet they loved me very much—but you... Voldemort, you're different. I guess your mother didn't love you at all—look at you, not even a nose on your face, I'm sure your mother discarded you at the orphanage for being so ugly! You'd better go back to the most primitive Chaos Abyss and see if anyone wants you!"
"Shut up! Shut up! How dare you! Oyster Daddy Oil!" Voldemort shrieked hysterically, "How do you know... you!"
Harry opened his mouth, realizing that perhaps a casual remark of his had hit Voldemort's sore spot perfectly.
Judging by Voldemort's reaction, it was clear that he had been shaken, and this hit precisely where it hurt most.
Could it be... truly like this?
Heavens, those insults were something he picked up from the Fantastic Beasts professor, Professor Hao Ying from China...
Professor Hao Ying not only cooked well but was also a master of insults.
He had witnessed Professor Hao Ying hurling insults, with curses spouting from her mouth like a rapid-fire gun, as venomous as Shakespearean sonnets, yet always retaining an air of grace...
It resulted in their entire class being devastatingly effective at insulting people.
He felt his words weren't even enough, because Professor Hao Ying even included eighteen generations of ancestors...
"Oh, then I must apologize to you, Mr. Voldemort." Harry said sincerely, "I'm sorry, I didn't know your parents abandoned you when you were very young—"
But these words, in Voldemort's ears, sounded no less than the most venomous sarcasm.
Lies won't hurt, but the truth cuts like a knife.
His mother, Melop Gant, was deeply in love with Voldemort's father, a Muggle—and used a Love Potion to entice his father Tom.
But after the truth was revealed, not only was Melop cast out by Tom, even the Gaunt family regarded her as a disgrace.
Pregnant and expelled by her own family, Melop came to London, living a life of poverty, and had to sell her priceless Slytherin's golden pendant box for 10 Galleons to Mr. Bock of the Bokin-Bok Store.
On a dark, snowy night, Melop gave birth to Voldemort in a Muggle orphanage and cruelly abandoned him.
Such a heart-wrenching memory was mercilessly unearthed by Harry, how could it not drive Voldemort into a frenzy?
He glared viciously at Harry, but having reached the boiling point, he was no longer as furious, his emotions gradually calming down.
The most urgent thing was to get the Magic Stone, as long as he obtained the Magic Stone, everything would be fine!
Ha, naturally evil Potter brat!
"I accept your apology."
Voldemort said coldly, as a new plan formed in his mind.
"Your magnanimity is enough to illuminate a bathroom." Harry bowed politely, "Even if it's a girls' bathroom."
Voldemort choked, then coldly snorted, speaking once more: "Stop playing games, Potter, you should know, Dumbledore will not come to save you, just like when Quirrell acted on his own initiative, trying to curse you to death at the Quidditch match!"
"Own initiative?" Harry raised an eyebrow, "Oh, so it was Quirrell casting the spell—why would he do that?"
"Why would he do that?" Voldemort sneered, "Of course, it was to attract Dumbledore's attention, to make the great, selfless Dumbledore notice he was plotting against Mr. Savior, hoping to gain Dumbledore's help to break free from my control—unfortunately, Potter, Dumbledore didn't bother with him, to him, everyone can be sacrificed—"
Harry felt something was amiss, it seemed like Voldemort was stalling for time—and the words he just spoke definitely had a tone of instigation, trying to sow doubt about Dumbledore...
If he were still a first-year student, he would have easily fallen for Voldemort's trick, and started doubting Dumbledore.
But he had seen many Dark Wizards full of deceit, trying to survive, trying to hurt others...
So as for Voldemort's words, he didn't believe a single one.
He reached into his pocket, placing his hand on the Magic Stone.
Indeed, the Magic Stone responded to his touch, the magic power contained within the stone eagerly rushing into his hand.
The Voldemort in the mirror continued his monologue: "As for you, Potter, you are also a sacrifice to him, as long as it can defeat the great Voldemort, anyone can become Dumbledore's sacrifice!"
"Think about it, your parents, and you... don't you ever wonder why your parents were targeted by me?"
"Because you're a pitiable wretch unloved by your mother, and you're jealous of me." Harry mercilessly mocked, his hand never stopping the absorption of the Magic Stone.
"Potter!" Voldemort shouted, "My patience is limited!"
"On the contrary, I'm more curious why your mother didn't want you." Harry smiled provokingly, "You're without a doubt a murderous fiend, your desire to kill my parents was just out of your own volition, unrelated to others—but I'm more curious, why exactly did your mother abandon you, and even your father didn't want you... oh, we've talked this long, I still don't know your surname, Mr. Voldemort, didn't your parents teach you to have manners with others?"
"Oh, my apologies!" Harry feigned covering his mouth with extreme exaggeration as he looked at Voldemort: "I forgot, Mr. Voldemort, your parents didn't want you—"
This expression, he learned from Cassandra.
Harry didn't feel any guilt at all, after all, the Voldemort in front of him was the enemy who murdered his parents and had committed countless atrocities in the Magic World, killing countless kind Wizards.
Such a person deserves no sympathy.
Moreover, he was operating in the open, while Voldemort was hidden; saying some trash-talk to provoke Voldemort into losing his composure and revealing his position would be a wise choice.
"Harry... Potter!" Voldemort hissed, "I've changed my mind, you must die!"
As his words fell, Quirrell suddenly stood erect.
A green light appeared out of nowhere, but Harry was prepared, his magic wand manipulated the stones around him to form a giant shield, blocking the ominously green light.
His hands didn't slow, and he sent out a similarly green beam of light, though this time it didn't hit "Quirrell."
"I will make you pay!" 'Quirrell' hissed.
Harry understood that this was Voldemort occupying Quirrell's body.
"Expelliarmus!" Harry cast a Disarming Spell, while tightly clutching the Magic Stone, drawing the energy from the stone.
The Magic Stone truly lived up to its name, Harry felt power steadily filling his body.
That familiar sensation of strength was gradually coming back.
Voldemort waved away the spell with his wand, then extended a hand and blew hard, causing a black flame to appear from thin air.
He snickered, akin to a devil from the deepest reaches of Hell, and the black flame roared, transforming into a twisted giant serpent, its gaping maw lunging towards Harry.
It was Fiery Fire.
Fiery Fire was a high-level Dark Magic, a type of Demon Fire that grew increasingly stronger—these flames could morph into monster-like forms, relentlessly pursuing almost anything flammable, indiscriminately.
Wizards without enough skill often found themselves causing unnecessary destruction after conjuring such fire, unable to control it or master the Decurse, while only strong Wizards could precisely control it.
A Dark Wizard like Voldemort could undoubtedly master Fiery Fire with ease.
Harry gripped the Magic Stone firmly, drawing upon the energy stored within.
Magic Stone, let me absorb!
An endless stream of magic energy flowed from the point of his contact with the Magic Stone into his body, filling Harry with strength!
He raised his magic wand, giving a mighty sweep in front of him.
As he did so, a wall of bright blue fire erupted around him, forming a protective shield of flame.