Hogwarts: I am Voldemort.

Chapter 125 Everyone has a purpose, Mag!

The sunset glow shone on Dumbledore through the floor-to-ceiling windows, dyeing his white hair golden.

McGonagall looked up at the tall Dumbledore, as if seeing a lion preparing to hunt.

"From the moment you noticed Quirrell, McGonagall," said Dumbledore.

"Ok."

Professor McGonagall picked up her wand and tapped it on her temple, and then she pulled out a wisp of flowing silver thread and sprinkled it in the Pensieve.

"Have you discovered anything?"

In the gap, she asked Dumbledore.

"We may have mistaken Snape, the target should be someone else."

Dumbledore said, stirring McGonagall's memory, and then leaned down.

Mag followed him into his memory, and asked immediately after entering, "Do you suspect it's Quirrell?"

"It's pretty close, it's amazing, isn't it?"

Dumbledore smiled and looked at Mag, seeing Mag's astonishment on the spot, "Don't be afraid, Mag, we still have the upper hand."

"But... Harry..."

"He won't hurt Harry, he has changed." Dumbledore smiled wryly, "I discussed fate with him, McGonagall, and fate can't hold him anymore."

"But that prophecy..."

McGonagall's thoughts were very chaotic, but the remaining reason still allowed her to grasp the point - she was such a person, and she would always let reason go first.

"Before he believed - I'm sure he believed before - that fate would lead him to that appointed destination, but when he saw through fate...it was difficult, but he did it."

After Dumbledore finished speaking, he spread his hands and smiled bitterly, "With my help."

McGonagall's eyes widened in surprise, as if she couldn't understand why Dumbledore did that.

"I didn't know he was Voldemort, McGonagall, and I was on my way to find Snape, I didn't know."

Dumbledore shook his head and said, his eyes began to look for Quirrell in McGonagall's memory-he found it quickly, because Quirrell's clothes were very tasteful, which made him look different.

"See? He cast a jinx between sneezes, I'm [-]% sure, he did that." Dumbledore said, pointing to Quirrell who was sneezing.

"Why?" McGonagall asked, "I can't see him casting a jinx at all."

"Because he didn't have a cold, McGonagall, do you remember that he had a cold that day?" Dumbledore asked, looking at Mag.

Mag was taken aback for another moment, then nodded helplessly, agreeing with Dumbledore's statement, but she still had her own doubts.

"But why is he dressed so conspicuously, Dumbledore? If he was wearing an ordinary black robe, I'm sure I wouldn't notice him." McGonagall asked suspiciously.

"If he doesn't dress like this, it will be more conspicuous, Mag. I remember that when he was a student, he had a desire to express himself better than ordinary people. At that time, his clothes were very tasteful, and poverty could not stop him."

"But I remember, he didn't do that anymore." McGonagall frowned. "When I saw him a few times later, he obviously didn't care as much about clothes as he did when he was a student."

"It was this difference that made me ignore him."

Dumbledore looked at Quirrell in the crowd. He was talking to the students on the side, talking and laughing, not at all like the dark wizard who was going to be paranoid in his memory, "He like this confuses me .”

Mag nodded. Indeed, he would never associate Quirrell with that person. The difference between the two is too great.

"Perhaps, my previous conjecture was wrong, maybe... his soul is complete." Dumbledore whispered softly, "But this needs more evidence."

Dumbledore flicked his wand, memory scrambled, and he and McGonagall returned to the headmaster's office.

"Don't we really need to go and see Harry?" McGonagall asked.

"He can refuse the Philosopher's Stone at his fingertips, let alone talk about Harry, McGonagall, don't look at him with old eyes, he is different."

While Dumbledore was speaking, he took out his memory and poured it into the Pensieve again.

"What else are we going to do?" Mag wondered.

"To find his purpose." Dumbledore said, "Everyone has a purpose, McGonagall."

McGonagall nodded and followed Dumbledore into his memory:

In the principal's room, in front of the fireplace, an old man and a young man were sitting in rocking chairs drinking drinks. This scene really surprised Mag.

"I didn't expect you to be so good." Professor McGonagall said.

"If I knew Quirrell was him, I don't think we would be so good." Dumbledore responded with a smile.

"It's just that fate didn't give you such a chance, principal." Quirrell said in memory.

"Look, he's tempting me, talking about the topics he cares about." Dumbledore said, pointing at Quirrell.

"You were... deceived by him?" Mag still seemed unable to accept everything in front of him.

"Yes, he has become wiser."

After Dumbledore finished speaking, he waved his hand to signal Professor McGonagall not to speak, and then he began to focus on Voldemort's expression.

Professor McGonagall stood aside, also focusing on Quirrell's words and expressions—from another angle, she felt that she still couldn't accept the person in front of her, the person who could not even be named.

"It's a very novel idea, let me tell you what you think." Dumbledore in his memory looked at Quirrell with more interest.

"If the incident with your mother hadn't happened, if it hadn't been for going home to protect your sister as soon as you graduated, if your... hadn't been for that accident, you might have changed the world in high spirits, right?"

"A question that hit people's hearts directly. I was a little out of shape that day. He peeped into this, and then..." Dumbledore sighed helplessly, "He got what he wanted."

Dumbledore waved his wand, the memory disturbance disappeared, and the two returned to the headmaster's room again.

"What he wants, is fate?" Professor McGonagall asked—while she gripped her wand tightly, looking as if she was ready to fight.

"More than that, remember Lucius?" Dumbledore picked up the Pensieve and put it back in place.

"What does it have to do with him?"

"He has never been so clearly hostile to me, he almost stepped into the ring, Mag, he doesn't have the guts."

"so what?"

"So?" Dumbledore turned his head and looked at McGonagall. "He was showing his loyalty, McGonagall. Voldemort forced him to make a statement, and he did."

"Sigh~~"

McGonagall took a breath, not sure if it was because Dumbledore mentioned that name, or because of Lucius, "You said he didn't trust those Death Eaters, and you also said he was arrogant... "

"It's different, Mag, we have to accept this fact."

Dumbledore shook his head, and then said with a seriousness he had never had before, "Although I don't know what happened, but, McGonagall, get ready to fight. Maybe this is our only chance to catch him."

"Activate the power of the castle?" Mag waved his wand, looking like he was warming up.

"Let me activate it." Dumbledore nodded and said, "Pay attention to his Porto golden body, that should be the magic he prepared for retreat."

Professor McGonagall nodded vigorously, indicating that he understood.

"Come on, let's go and meet him." Dumbledore said with a smile, "I really want to know what his expression will be when I reveal his identity."

　These chapters are carefully written, each chapter is checked no less than five times, very important chapters~~~
　　
　
(End of this chapter)