Chapter eighteen

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Harry knocked politely on the door, and he was met with a stuttery reply of 'enter'. So he did, he sauntered into the room and there sat Quirrel. He raised an eyebrow and sat in front of the man, "Evening Professor." He said smartly, crossing his legs. Quirrel shook his head and let his turban fall, turning on his chair, "Merlin, you're ugly." He said to the unimpressed snake-face of Tom Riddle. "I am aware I look terrible, this is specifically why I am using my diary self." He drawled, "Oo you sound like a snake." He said, "Why are your eyes red?" He asked, leaning forward on his desk, "And where's your nose?" The snake-faced voldemort snorted, "I am aware I sound like a snake, I have red eyes due to all the dark spells and rituals I cast and perform, and many body parts had to be sacrificed so I could live on Quirrel and not be noticed." He explained.

Harry turned his head to the window and said, "Don't do dark arts, kids!" He then stuck his thumbs up and turned back to Tom, a bored expression on his face. Tom scoffed, "You're so muggle." And Harry nodded, "I know dear. Now, what are we doing?" He drawled, leaning back in his chair, "Well, we know where the stone is, but a rather large amount of traps are being set. Baring in mind a two year old could pass them, but I need to know what spells Dumbledore has placed on it. Quirrels magic is too weak to do that level of spell casting, and while I could, I cant risk Dumbledore getting my magical signature. Plus, using that amount of magic when I'm not whole could be dangerous." 

Harry nodded, "So you want me to do it?" And Tom nodded back, and then the bell went, "Talk through the diary!" He hissed before Quirrel wrapped the turban back around his head, "Off you go Mister Evans." He said, no stutter as his eyes faded from red to blue.

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dam I'm a good author haha

its a joke guys

I know I'm a terrible author 

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