A Certain Magical Hogwarts

As a second-rate transmigrator, William had no registration with the Bureau of Time and Space Management and was effectively an illegal stowaway.

No system, no foreknowledge of the plot—he lacked everything that might give him an edge. A transmigrator this pathetic was an embarrassment to many of the seniors who had come before him.

Still, William did know one thing: Harry ultimately defeated Voldemort.

It wasn't as though the final boss would end up killing the protagonist, right?

But from what William had observed so far, he couldn't see how Harry was supposed to defeat Voldemort.

Talent, mentality, intelligence—Harry wasn't up to par in any of these areas. The only thing he had going for him was courage.

Granted, Harry was still young, and it was clear that Dumbledore was grooming him.

Initially, William thought the Forbidden Corridor was simply Dumbledore's trap to lure out the mastermind.

Now, it seemed Dumbledore's true focus had always been Harry.

He was cultivating Harry's bravery.

Dumbledore was likely watching everything unfold from the shadows, controlling the situation.

Had Voldemort not caused chaos during the Quidditch match by unleashing a Basilisk, forcing the Headmaster to intervene, Harry probably wouldn't have died.

Perhaps Dumbledore had underestimated Voldemort's actions, letting the situation spiral out of control.

Or perhaps…

The Ravenclaw ring could be Dumbledore's final trump card, allowing him to take such risks. Was he also using this as an opportunity to train William?

A clever move to kill two birds with one stone.

If that were the case, Dumbledore was truly terrifying. Age had made him wise and cunning.

However, from William's perspective, Harry wasn't being trained. The entire ordeal seemed more like Hermione, a max-level player with cheat codes, dragging two noobs along for a grind session.

Harry contributed almost nothing throughout the journey, acting more like an extra than a protagonist.

For instance, with Fluffy, Hermione sang a lullaby, putting the three-headed dog to sleep effortlessly.

After opening the trapdoor, Harry wanted to jump straight in but was stopped by Hermione.

She pointed out that without Devil's Snare below, jumping in would be suicidal.

From her ring, enchanted with an undetectable extension charm, Hermione pulled out a long rope and tied it around Fluffy's neck.

The three of them descended safely to the bottom.

Next, they reached the room filled with flying keys. Harry spotted a few broomsticks in the corner and prepared to mount one to chase the key but was stopped by Hermione again.

"Don't," she warned. "William enchanted the keys with Fire-Making Charms and Doubling Charms. Touching them could easily kill you."

As someone who had studied the walkthrough in detail, Hermione wouldn't make Quirrell's mistakes.

"What should we do, then?" Ron asked anxiously, "We can't open the door without a key."

"It's fine. I have the key," Hermione said, pulling an antique key from her pocket.

"Where did you get that?" Harry asked in surprise.

"William found it during our first attempt, and I pocketed it without realizing. I forgot to return it," Hermione shrugged ever so casually.

She unlocked the door, and the three proceeded safely to the next challenge.

In the chess room, Ron had his moment of glory, winning against Professor McGonagall's enchanted chess set. Unfortunately, he was knocked unconscious by the White Queen and dragged to a corner.

Harry and Hermione advanced to the next room, where the troll had been killed by Quirrell after Christmas, leaving behind only a pool of coagulated blood. They passed through unharmed.

At the final challenge, flames erupted behind them as they crossed the threshold, and black fire blazed at the exit.

Hermione walked to the table, picked up a piece of parchment, and read aloud.

"Hermione, can you solve it?" Harry asked instinctively.

Little Zhuge Hermione glanced at the parchment and then set it down. "The reasoning is a bit tricky, but it's not the main issue.

[tl/n: Zhuge Liang is a chinese strategist and politician known for his intellect.]

"This riddle isn't the original one; it's something William wrote. I don't know if Professor Snape even knows the correct answer."

After a brief moment of thought, she shook her head, "Let's not take the risk. If Snape got it wrong, drinking the potion could kill us."

"What do we do then?" Harry asked out of habit.

"No problem." Hermione smirked, pulling a potion bottle from her ring.

"This is one of William's brews. He gave me a bottle," She beamed with pride.

All Harry could do was envy her.

Hermione initially intended to go with Harry, but he stopped her.

He instructed Hermione to send an owl to Dumbledore for help, then entered the final chamber alone.

William followed silently, watching Harry display the courage Dumbledore had hoped for.

In this respect, Harry truly lived up to being a Gryffindor, and it was the only praiseworthy thing about his performance.

William followed Harry into the fiendfyre.

This time, the chamber wasn't the Headmaster's office but an empty, cavernous room.

William drank a Strengthening Potion and cast both a Disillusionment Charm and Occlumency to prevent Voldemort from sensing him, so long as he avoided direct eye contact.

But Voldemort wasn't there. Instead, Quirrell's soul floated in front of the Mirror of Erised.

When Quirrell turned, William's pupils contracted sharply.

Though it was Quirrell's body, his face looked as though it had been skinned and crudely replaced with a pale, ghastly visage.

The face bore glowing red eyes and a slit for a nose, like a snake.

Voldemort had possessed Quirrell, his current state resembling that of Peeves.

Unlike typical ghosts, Peeves could touch physical objects, and now Voldemort seemed to have regained a body, albeit an incomplete one.

With a wave of Voldemort's arm, Harry was lifted to the mirror.

"What do you see?" Voldemort asked harshly.

Harry summoned his courage, "I see myself shaking hands with Dumbledore. I—I've won the House Cup for Gryffindor."

"Liar, Potter. You're lying," Voldemort sneered, his laughter worse than an infants scream.

"No one lies to the great Lord Voldemort."

"Harry Potter…" he whispered.

Harry tried to back away, but his legs wouldn't move.

"Look at what I've become!" Voldemort sneered, "A shadow, vapor… even now, this body is temporary.

"But if you're hoping to wait for Dumbledore, forget that thought.

"I wrote him a letter, luring him to the Ministry of Magic. He's clever and might see through my plan, but I left him a lovely little surprise at the Quidditch pitch.

"He won't come for you. Compared to your life, he values the lives of hundreds of students more.

"Now, hand me the Philosopher's Stone in your pocket."

Harry's legs regained their strength, and he staggered backward.

Voldemort raised his wand, "Swear your loyalty to me, Potter, or suffer the same fate as your parents…oh how they begged for mercy before I killed them…"

"Liar!" Harry shouted.

He pulled the stone from his pocket, popped it into his mouth, and swallowed it.

"No!" Voldemort roared, firing a Killing Curse at Harry.

Rushing forward, Voldemort prepared to extract the stone from Harry's stomach.

But as Quirrell's hands touched Harry's body, they recoiled as if scalded by fire.

Quirrell's body convulsed, his face grotesquely shifting between his own and Voldemort's.

"AARgh."

A horrific scream tore through the air, piercing to the soul.

Voldemort spat blood, dropping to his knees, his hands clutching his mouth as blood dripped between his fingers.

These weren't Quirrell's injuries—they were Voldemort's.

Voldemort abandoned Quirrell, reverting to a spectral form resembling an infant, and fled.

With his departure, black blood seeped from Quirrell's eye sockets, and his ghostly body exploded into light, vanishing completely.

William sighed and turned to leave.

join my patreon for 115+ advanced chapters: patreon.com/HyppoTL