Harry felt like he had been in a dream.
In the dream, he was caught by a terrifying bat that wanted to drink his blood. He struggled fiercely, but soon, the bat turned into Snape, who glared at him venomously. Yet, in those eyes, there was something more than hatred, an expression that made Harry very uncomfortable.
No, go away!
Go away!
Harry...
Suddenly, a voice came from a distant place.
He seemed to see a boy extending his hand, "Thank you for believing in me. I'm glad to be your friend."
Harry reached out, and the other person pulled him vigorously.
Suddenly, the dream ended.
Ron's face appeared before him, "Harry, how are you? Harry, are you okay? Are you hurt?"
"Where, where am I?"
Harry asked, bewildered.
"Harry, listen to me," Ron didn't answer his question but said, "Don't be too upset later..."
"What?"
He looked around dazedly and realized he was in a pub booth.
Ah, this is the Three Broomsticks.
He had been here before.
He tried to stand up, confused, "How did I get here? I remember getting the Philosopher's Stone, and then Snape..."
Hermione helped him up, "Harry, let's go outside."
They helped Harry to the main hall of the pub, and he was shocked to see it packed with people, each showing an extremely serious expression.
Something very serious must have happened.
It's over, Snape... he must have reported me stealing the Philosopher's Stone to the other professors... I'm going to be expelled...
What should I do? No, I can't drag Hermione and Ron into this. This was my idea.
Wait, what about Tom...
He looked around, "Where's Tom?"
"The deceased is identified as Lucas Tom Brightson." Suddenly, a voice came from the center of the crowd.
Harry was stunned for a moment, thinking he had misheard.
"What, what did he just say..."
"Harry..." Hermione couldn't help crying again, "Harry, Tom, Tom is..."
"Cause of death, preliminarily judged to be severe blood loss and... a spell. There's a magical trace on the wound in his abdomen, he was hit by some kind of spell..."
"You said he suddenly appeared in your booth?"
"Yes, I was drinking, and Tom... oh, he always wanted us to call him by his middle name, Tom and Harry just suddenly appeared..."
Harry recognized Murphy's voice. He pushed through the crowd and then saw the body lying on two tables.
Tom.
It was him.
For a moment, Harry was stunned by Tom's ghastly appearance. Then, he touched the other intact arm of the body.
An Auror seemed about to stop him, but another person held him back.
Harry felt like he was touching ice. In fact, the body still maintained a temperature around twenty degrees, but to Harry, it felt incredibly cold.
It was still soft, but there was no doubt that life had left it.
As he lifted the arm, he felt its immense weight, and in an instant, Harry understood - Tom was dead.
But how?
"Why?"
Was it Snape?
No, Voldemort?
Everyone was looking at him. Barty Crouch stared at him solemnly, "Potter, Mr. Murphy said you appeared with Mr. Lucas. Do you remember what happened?"
Harry looked at him blankly and shook his head.
"Gentlemen," Murphy stood up, shielding Harry behind him, "I think Harry has also had a very complicated night. He lost a friend. Gentlemen, give him some time."
Someone tried to take Harry out of the crowd, but he pushed them away, "No!"
Harry's eyes widened, "I want to understand how he died. Who killed Tom? Professor?"
Murphy looked at him, sighed after a long pause, and said, "I'm afraid it was Voldemort, or... Quirrell."
"What exactly happened, Professor?" Harry looked at him, still unable to believe what was unfolding before his eyes. "What happened while I was unconscious?"
Murphy looked at him sadly for a while and said, "Let me repeat what I know."
"Earlier tonight, after completing a magical communication experiment, I came to the Three Broomsticks to relax and have a few glasses of honey beer."
"I had barely drunk two glasses when Tom and you suddenly appeared."
"You were still unconscious, and Tom was almost in the same condition as now. His injuries looked horrific, but he wasn't dead yet. He was extremely weak but still clutched my hand tightly, placing a red stone in my hand."
"The Philosopher's Stone?" someone asked.
Murphy didn't answer, "Tom said it was the Philosopher's Stone, and he wanted me to read his memories."
"His mind was already confused, but from the fragmentary memories, I got a few key pieces of information."
"First, he and Harry had got the Philosopher's Stone."
"Second, Voldemort snatched it from them and took both of them in an attempt to resurrect."
"Third, he brought the Philosopher's Stone and Harry back to me and stopped Voldemort's plan."
"Just after I retrieved these memories, his will extinguished. He died."
"I immediately understood they had encountered a horrific event. I planned to notify the school immediately, but Dumbledore was being questioned by the Board of Governors and wasn't at the school. More importantly, I realized a more pressing issue: Now that Voldemort no longer had the Philosopher's Stone, taken back by Tom and Harry, what would he do?"
"The next moment, I thought of my teacher."
"Your teacher?" An Auror asked, "You mean Professor Flitwick?"
"No, I'm talking about another teacher I met after graduation. Nicolas Flamel."
"Nicolas Flamel? He's your teacher?!" Everyone was surprised.
"Yes, I was also interested in alchemy, so I communicated with Nicolas Flamel and learned a lot about alchemy from him. He took me as a disciple."
"But that's not the point. The point is, after reading Tom's memories, I immediately understood that Voldemort would now rely on the Elixir of Life in my teacher's possession to resurrect."
"So, I immediately went to my teacher's home."
"And when I got there, I found Madame Perenelle Flamel... had been killed."
"This can be verified by an Auror who was apparently monitoring my teacher on orders from the Auror Command."
"Yes," Rasmus interjected, "After the Gringotts robbery, we found that vault 713 belonged to Nicolas Flamel. To get clues, we monitored Flamel covertly."
"Unfortunately, we didn't anticipate the enemy would suddenly strike against Flamel."
People ignored Rasmus's words, only asking, "Then what happened?"
"I learned from my teacher that someone had stolen the Elixir of Life," Murphy said.
"And I knew that person was Voldemort."
"He must have been hiding somewhere, preparing to resurrect, and I had to stop him."
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