Professor Quirrell wheeled around.

Professor Quirrell wheeled around. When his glance fell on Harry, he froze.

"Harry Potter?" he whispered. "How did you get down here?" For some reason, there was no hint of a stutter in his voice any more. Perhaps he was finally getting over his nervousness?

Harry smiled at him. "The same way you did, Professor. Through the trapdoor up there. Rggggrrr is a stunning creature, isn't he?"

"Who?" Quirrell stared blankly at him.

"The dog," explained Harry patiently. "The one with three heads. Back there." He pointed back the way he had come. "Surely you must have noticed him? He's rather hard to miss."

"Ah, yes, the dog..." Quirrell regarded Harry thoughtfully for a moment. "You made it past the three-headed dog, did you? And all the other challenges as well? That's not bad for a small child... You have some rather extraordinary abilities, don't you, Harry?"

Harry flushed a little. "Oh, it was nothing, really..."

"Come here, Harry," said Quirrell in a low voice, and Harry stepped obediently closer to the young professor.

"Look into the mirror, Harry," whispered Quirrell. "Tell me, what do you see in there?"

Harry stared up at him in wonder. "What I see in there? Er... you and me? Because we are standing in front of the mirror right now-?" Human wizards really did have a very difficult time grasping how mirrors worked, didn't they? Harry remembered Dumbledore asking him about mirrors and reflections as well. Wait... This was actually the same mirror! Harry looked more closely at the tall looking-glass. Yes, this was the mirror that Ron had found in that empty classroom, the one Dumbledore had asked him about. How very odd that someone had moved it down into this underground chamber! Wouldn't it have been more useful in a place where more people could see it?

"Do you see anything else in the mirror, Harry?" There was a curious trembling in Quirrell's voice now. "Do you see a red stone?"

Harry glanced at the teacher in surprise. The red stone? The lovely one that he had dreamt about? Why would he see it in the mirror? What a terribly strange question! Was this some sort of joke? No, Quirrell's pale face looked perfectly serious and more than a little distressed.

Harry peered into the mirror. There they both were: A small boy with unruly black hair - Harry tried to push his hair down a little, but it wouldn't stay down - and his favorite teacher, looking a shade paler than usual.

But then...

Harry gasped out loud. What was that?

To his astonishment, his own reflection began to act very strangely. It moved, even if Harry didn't! How was that possible? The boy in the mirror gazed up at the man next to him, and then he reached into the pocket of his school robes... and pulled out a brilliant red stone!

"What is it?" Quirrell's voice sounded terribly tense and anxious. "What do you see, child? Tell me!"

"The stone!" Harry could hardly believe his own eyes. "The boy in the mirror who looks like me has that beautiful red stone, and he is giving it to you! And you are looking ever so pleased!" He felt a warm little glow in his heart. It was wonderful to see the grave professor smile like that, even if it was only his reflection smiling in this weirdly enchanted mirror.

"You are giving me the stone?" breathed Quirrell. "Yes, Harry! Yes, give me the stone! I need it! I will give you anything you want in return; I will make you wealthy and powerful beyond all measure. I will restore your dead parents to you if you like. Just give me the stone!"

Harry blinked up at the professor in surprise. "Restore my parents? But they are dead! It's so very kind of you to offer, Professor, but I don't think that will be possible. Even magic can't do that, you see."

Suddenly, Harry became aware of something pointy pressing against his hip. There was something in his pocket! How strange - he couldn't remember putting anything in there. Harry reached down and pulled out the sharp-edged object. The red stone! It glittered in the warm torchlight like a small sun. How on earth did that get into his pocket?

"The stone!" Quirrell's voice was hoarse. "Oh, Salazar! You have the stone! Give it to me, Harry! Give it to me!"

Harry beamed up at him. "Yes, of course! Here you go, Professor!" He handed the luminous red stone to the teacher.

Quirrell stood still for a long moment and just gazed at the jewel in his hand. Harry knew by looking at him that he must have wanted it very badly. How lovely that Harry had been able to get the beautiful stone for him! Quirrell was smiling now, just like he had in the mirror. In the back of Harry's mind, he could sense Shard smiling, too. Apparently, Shard had taken a liking to the young professor as well and was very pleased that he had finally found the stone he had wanted so much. Yes, yes, yesyesyes! whispered Shard inside his mind. The stone!

"I will reward you for this, Harry," Quirrell said finally, in a breathless sort of voice. "You have restored my immortality to me, you precious child."

"Immortality?" Harry was puzzled. "What's that, Professor?"

Quirrell smiled down at him. "It means that I will never die, Harry," he said softly. "I will use this miraculous stone to make a magic drink, the elixir of immortality, and as long as I drink it, I cannot die."

"Really?" Harry grinned. "That sounds like a lovely sort of magic! No wonder you wanted the stone so badly! It's so terribly sad when someone dies. I'm glad you won't, Professor." He gazed fondly up at Quirrell.

Quirrell studied Harry's face for a long time. Then he said slowly: "I have never cared very much for children, Harry. Nasty, cruel little creatures, most of them, or insufferable fools! But you... You are very different. You appear to be quite powerful, and you have rendered me a great favor I will not forget. I think I should like to keep you by my side, Harry, as my friend... What do you say, child, do you want to join me?"

Harry gazed at the professor in delight. Join Quirrell? Be by his side, as his friend? What a lovely idea! Perhaps Quirrell would even let him take a closer look at his shard?

Harry couldn't help himself. He knew that the professor was very shy, but he could not resist throwing his arms around his new friend and giving him a warm hug.

But as Harry wrapped his arms around Quirrell, he felt the young man's body stiffen. Uh oh. Maybe he didn't like to be hugged? The professor was moaning loudly now, as if in agony. For some reason, Harry's friendly touch seemed to cause him pain.

"What-? What is happening?" There was a sudden note of panic in Quirrell's voice. "Salazar, what are you doing to me, child? Stop! Aaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhh!" A horrible scream tore itself from Quirrell's thin lips, and he fell to the floor, writhing in pain.

And then, to Harry's horror, the poor professor's body began to dissolve in front of his very eyes!

"Oh, no! Oh no!" Harry tried desperately to stop the terrifying thing that was happening to his friend, but even the strongest fairy magic was powerless against the force that was tearing the professor apart, as if he were nothing more than a withered leaf in the wind. Soon, there was nothing left of Harry's beloved new friend but a handful of dust.

Harry sank down on the cold stone floor, sobbing helplessly. Oh, poor kind Professor Quirrell! Killed, by a mere touch! What had he done?

...

"There, there, Harry." Dumbledore patted Harry's head softly. "Do not blame yourself for his death, my dear boy. You have done nothing wrong, you understand."

"Nothing wrong?" Harry's sobs were still choking his words. "Nothing wrong? How... How can you say that? I made him die! It was my touch that killed him! And I had finally found him the stone, too, the one that would have made him... what was it called?...immortal!" Harry cried even harder now, and Dumbledore hugged him gently for a while.

When Harry finally ran out of tears, Dumbledore said in a low voice: "I know that this must be very difficult for you, Harry. But there are some very important things I have to explain to you now, and they will not be easy for you to hear. I need you to be very, very brave and listen to what I have to say."

Harry wiped his face on his sleeve and nodded silently.

...

Harry would never forget the strange and terrible things that Dumbledore told him that evening. It took Harry a very long time to grasp everything, and Dumbledore had to explain parts of the story to him over and over again.

Dumbledore told Harry that there was once a wizard called Voldemort who was the same as the nameless wizard some people called You-Know-Who. Voldemort was great and powerful, but he was also something Dumbledore called evil. Harry was not familiar with the word, and it took him a long time to understand it. Apparently, evil was some sort of great sadness inside you that made you want to hurt other living things. And that is why Voldemort had once killed Harry's parents, long ago, and even tried to kill Harry. But Harry hadn't died at all; he had escaped with just a scar. There had been some sort of magical accident, and Voldemort himself had been badly hurt. Everyone had assumed that he was dead, but he really wasn't. No one knew exactly what had happened, but somehow his wandering soul had eventually found its way into Professor Quirrell's body, and they had merged into one being.

Dumbledore tried to make Harry see that it would have been a very bad thing if Voldemort had been able to use the stone to make himself immortal, but Harry had a difficult time understanding this. Apparently, Dumbledore felt that someone who had turned evil was just going to keep hurting others, and that it was, overall, a good thing if an evil person was no longer around to hurt other living creatures. Harry could see that there was some sort of cold logic in this, but he couldn't help feeling a terrible stab in his heart when he thought about poor Quirrell and his shard. Quirrell had become Harry's friend, even if his sadness

Kết quả (Việt) 1:

Giáo sư Quirrell bánh xung quanh. Khi nháy mắt của mình rơi vào Harry, ông đóng băng."Harry Potter?" ông thì thầm. "Làm thế nào đã làm bạn nhận được ở đây?" Đối với một số lý do, đã có không có gợi ý của một nói lắp trong giọng nói của mình nữa. Có lẽ ông cuối cùng đã nhận được qua căng thẳng của mình?Harry cười lúc anh ta. "Theo cùng một cách bạn đã làm, giáo sư. Thông qua cửa sập trên đó. Rggggrrr là một sinh vật tuyệt đẹp, không phải là ông?""Ai?" Quirrell blankly stared lúc anh ta."Con chó," giải thích Harry kiên nhẫn. "Một với ba đầu. Trở lại có." Ông chỉ trở lại con đường ông đã đến. "Chắc chắn bạn phải có nhận thấy anh ta? Ông là khá khó khăn để bỏ lỡ.""Ah, Vâng, con chó..." Quirrell coi Harry thận trọng cho một thời điểm. "Bạn đã làm cho nó qua con chó ba đầu, đã làm bạn? Và tất cả những thách thức khác là tốt? Đó không phải là xấu cho một đứa trẻ nhỏ... Bạn có một số khả năng khá bất thường, chứ, Harry? "Harry xóa một chút. "Ồ, nó thực sự là không có gì,...""Lại đây, Harry," nói Quirrell trong một giọng nói thấp, và Harry bước obediently địa điểm gần nhất để các giáo sư trẻ."Nhìn vào gương, Harry," thì thầm Quirrell. "Cho tôi biết, anh thấy gì ở đó?"Harry stared lên lúc ông trong tự hỏi. "Những gì tôi nhìn thấy ở đó? Er... bạn và tôi? Bởi vì chúng tôi đang đứng ở phía trước của các gương bên phải bây giờ-?" Phù thủy của con người thực sự đã có một thời gian rất khó nắm bắt làm thế nào gương làm việc, phải không? Harry nhớ Dumbledore yêu cầu ông về gương và phản ánh là tốt. Đợi... Điều này là thực sự cùng một gương! Harry xem xét chặt chẽ hơn cao tìm kiếm-thủy tinh. Có, đây là gương Ron đã tìm thấy trong lớp học có sản phẩm nào đó, một giáo sư Dumbledore đã yêu cầu anh ta về. Làm thế nào rất lẻ rằng ai đó đã chuyển nó vào buồng ngầm này! Không nó đã hữu ích hơn ở một nơi mà nhiều người có thể nhìn thấy nó?"Làm bạn thấy bất cứ điều gì khác trong gương, Harry?" Đã có một tò mò rung trong giọng nói của Quirrell bây giờ. "Bạn có thấy một hòn đá đỏ?"Harry glanced tại các giáo viên trong bất ngờ. Đá màu đỏ? Một trong những đáng yêu mà ông đã luôn mơ ước về? Tại sao ông sẽ thấy nó trong gương? Những gì một câu hỏi lạ terribly! Là này một số loại câu chuyện đùa? Không, của Quirrell nhạt mặt nhìn hoàn toàn nghiêm trọng và nhiều hơn một chút đau khổ.Harry peered vào gương. Cả hai đều đã có: một cậu bé nhỏ với mái tóc đen ngô nghịch - Harry đã cố gắng để đẩy mái tóc của mình xuống một chút, nhưng nó sẽ không ở lại xuống - và giáo viên yêu thích của mình, tìm kiếm một bóng nhạt màu hơn bình thường.Nhưng sau đó...Harry gasped thành tiếng. Đó là gì?To his astonishment, his own reflection began to act very strangely. It moved, even if Harry didn't! How was that possible? The boy in the mirror gazed up at the man next to him, and then he reached into the pocket of his school robes... and pulled out a brilliant red stone!"What is it?" Quirrell's voice sounded terribly tense and anxious. "What do you see, child? Tell me!""The stone!" Harry could hardly believe his own eyes. "The boy in the mirror who looks like me has that beautiful red stone, and he is giving it to you! And you are looking ever so pleased!" He felt a warm little glow in his heart. It was wonderful to see the grave professor smile like that, even if it was only his reflection smiling in this weirdly enchanted mirror."You are giving me the stone?" breathed Quirrell. "Yes, Harry! Yes, give me the stone! I need it! I will give you anything you want in return; I will make you wealthy and powerful beyond all measure. I will restore your dead parents to you if you like. Just give me the stone!"Harry blinked up at the professor in surprise. "Restore my parents? But they are dead! It's so very kind of you to offer, Professor, but I don't think that will be possible. Even magic can't do that, you see."Suddenly, Harry became aware of something pointy pressing against his hip. There was something in his pocket! How strange - he couldn't remember putting anything in there. Harry reached down and pulled out the sharp-edged object. The red stone! It glittered in the warm torchlight like a small sun. How on earth did that get into his pocket?"The stone!" Quirrell's voice was hoarse. "Oh, Salazar! You have the stone! Give it to me, Harry! Give it to me!"Harry beamed up at him. "Yes, of course! Here you go, Professor!" He handed the luminous red stone to the teacher.Quirrell stood still for a long moment and just gazed at the jewel in his hand. Harry knew by looking at him that he must have wanted it very badly. How lovely that Harry had been able to get the beautiful stone for him! Quirrell was smiling now, just like he had in the mirror. In the back of Harry's mind, he could sense Shard smiling, too. Apparently, Shard had taken a liking to the young professor as well and was very pleased that he had finally found the stone he had wanted so much. Yes, yes, yesyesyes! whispered Shard inside his mind. The stone!"I will reward you for this, Harry," Quirrell said finally, in a breathless sort of voice. "You have restored my immortality to me, you precious child.""Immortality?" Harry was puzzled. "What's that, Professor?"Quirrell smiled down at him. "It means that I will never die, Harry," he said softly. "I will use this miraculous stone to make a magic drink, the elixir of immortality, and as long as I drink it, I cannot die.""Really?" Harry grinned. "That sounds like a lovely sort of magic! No wonder you wanted the stone so badly! It's so terribly sad when someone dies. I'm glad you won't, Professor." He gazed fondly up at Quirrell.Quirrell studied Harry's face for a long time. Then he said slowly: "I have never cared very much for children, Harry. Nasty, cruel little creatures, most of them, or insufferable fools! But you... You are very different. You appear to be quite powerful, and you have rendered me a great favor I will not forget. I think I should like to keep you by my side, Harry, as my friend... What do you say, child, do you want to join me?"Harry gazed at the professor in delight. Join Quirrell? Be by his side, as his friend? What a lovely idea! Perhaps Quirrell would even let him take a closer look at his shard?Harry couldn't help himself. He knew that the professor was very shy, but he could not resist throwing his arms around his new friend and giving him a warm hug.But as Harry wrapped his arms around Quirrell, he felt the young man's body stiffen. Uh oh. Maybe he didn't like to be hugged? The professor was moaning loudly now, as if in agony. For some reason, Harry's friendly touch seemed to cause him pain."What-? What is happening?" There was a sudden note of panic in Quirrell's voice. "Salazar, what are you doing to me, child? Stop! Aaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhh!" A horrible scream tore itself from Quirrell's thin lips, and he fell to the floor, writhing in pain.And then, to Harry's horror, the poor professor's body began to dissolve in front of his very eyes!"Oh, no! Oh no!" Harry tried desperately to stop the terrifying thing that was happening to his friend, but even the strongest fairy magic was powerless against the force that was tearing the professor apart, as if he were nothing more than a withered leaf in the wind. Soon, there was nothing left of Harry's beloved new friend but a handful of dust.Harry sank down on the cold stone floor, sobbing helplessly. Oh, poor kind Professor Quirrell! Killed, by a mere touch! What had he done?..."There, there, Harry." Dumbledore patted Harry's head softly. "Do not blame yourself for his death, my dear boy. You have done nothing wrong, you understand.""Nothing wrong?" Harry's sobs were still choking his words. "Nothing wrong? How... How can you say that? I made him die! It was my touch that killed him! And I had finally found him the stone, too, the one that would have made him... what was it called?...immortal!" Harry cried even harder now, and Dumbledore hugged him gently for a while.When Harry finally ran out of tears, Dumbledore said in a low voice: "I know that this must be very difficult for you, Harry. But there are some very important things I have to explain to you now, and they will not be easy for you to hear. I need you to be very, very brave and listen to what I have to say."Harry wiped his face on his sleeve and nodded silently....Harry would never forget the strange and terrible things that Dumbledore told him that evening. It took Harry a very long time to grasp everything, and Dumbledore had to explain parts of the story to him over and over again.
Dumbledore told Harry that there was once a wizard called Voldemort who was the same as the nameless wizard some people called You-Know-Who. Voldemort was great and powerful, but he was also something Dumbledore called evil. Harry was not familiar with the word, and it took him a long time to understand it. Apparently, evil was some sort of great sadness inside you that made you want to hurt other living things. And that is why Voldemort had once killed Harry's parents, long ago, and even tried to kill Harry. But Harry hadn't died at all; he had escaped with just a scar. There had been some sort of magical accident, and Voldemort himself had been badly hurt. Everyone had assumed that he was dead, but he really wasn't. No one knew exactly what had happened, but somehow his wandering soul had eventually found its way into Professor Quirrell's body, and they had merged into one being.

Dumbledore tried to make Harry see that it would have been a very bad thing if Voldemort had been able to use the stone to make himself immortal, but Harry had a difficult time understanding this. Apparently, Dumbledore felt that someone who had turned evil was just going to keep hurting others, and that it was, overall, a good thing if an evil person was no longer around to hurt other living creatures. Harry could see that there was some sort of cold logic in this, but he couldn't help feeling a terrible stab in his heart when he thought about poor Quirrell and his shard. Quirrell had become Harry's friend, even if his sadness