The Dark Lord's Gaze

Although Roger disliked lies, he understood the basic art of concealing his strengths.

This was not deception, merely telling half the truth.

While he was still weak, he had to avoid flaunting his wealth as much as possible.

The fewer people who knew the specific details of his path, the better.

Roger merely told Professor McGonagall that he planned to use his ability as a Seer to predict danger, combined with self-directed life modification through Transfiguration, to extend his lifespan.

As for the fact that his sense of impending danger was a permanent ability he could use at will, rather than the sort of prophecy that worked only intermittently or required specific conditions, there was no need to elaborate.

Even so, it was enough to leave Professor McGonagall utterly astonished! How long had it been since she lent him those books? He had only been enrolled for a few days, yet he had already come so far down the path of magic?!

Although, based on what Roger had revealed, the number of spells he had mastered was still sorely lacking, his line of thought was not much of a problem when it came to the goal of longevity alone.

However...

"If you merely wish to extend your lifespan, then with your abilities, this path may well be viable. But if I recall correctly, what you wanted was immortality?" Professor McGonagall had not forgotten a single thing Roger had said to her.

"Yes." Roger nodded.

"Longevity and immortality may sound similar, but they are entirely different concepts, like how paramecia and wizards are both carbon-based lifeforms according to Muggle science." As a master of Transfiguration and a former Ministry of Magic official, Professor McGonagall was not deeply versed in Muggle theories, but neither was she unfamiliar with them.

"Transfiguration is magic that alters matter, but life is made up of more than matter."

Roger understood Professor McGonagall's unspoken meaning. In the magical world, the soul was also part of life, not to mention the mind—just as mysterious as magic, perhaps even more so.

Even if Roger could make his physical body endure forever, what if his soul developed problems under the erosion of time? "I understand all that, Professor. But no one can grow fat with a single bite. Though immortality is my ultimate goal, the path must still be taken one step at a time."

"Of the many components of life, the most fragile is our body. We should first solve the problem of the body's lifespan, then slowly tackle the other problems one by one." Roger answered with great composure.

As Roger finished speaking, the corners of Professor McGonagall's lips curved into a smile. There had actually been a small test hidden in her earlier words, and Roger had passed it perfectly.

When pursuing the continuation of life, the greatest taboo was impatience for quick results.

Not wanting to die was a thought many wizards had entertained.

Whether during her years as a professor or when she had worked for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, she had seen too many impatient people take the wrong path. They had clearly intended to prolong their lives, only to end up dying before even living out an ordinary lifespan.

Like many Muggles who earned money in pursuit of a happier life, only for some to gradually forget why they had set out in the first place and lose their way.

Now, Professor McGonagall believed Roger was someone capable of controlling his own desires, someone worthy of greater trust.

Professor McGonagall knew Roger was a good person, but being good did not mean one could resist temptation.

Just as people said that wealth corrupted people, many who seemed decent might simply never have had the opportunity to become corrupt.

Being able only to be a good person was not the same as choosing to be one.

Thus, only at this moment did she decide to give that thing to Roger Virgil.

"I hope you never forget the resolve you have now." As she spoke, Professor McGonagall handed a slip of paper to Roger.

The moment he saw it, Roger's eyes lit up.

He had only come here to ask Professor McGonagall to verify whether there were any gaps in his line of thought.

He had not expected an unexpected reward! To Roger as he was now, this slip was exactly what he needed!

Hogwarts Library, professor's authorization slip for borrowing from the Restricted Section

And it was a blank authorization slip, with no book titles listed, allowing him to borrow whatever he wished! Within the Hogwarts Library, aside from ordinary books and frequently updated academic journals from outside the school, there was also the Restricted Section, which students were forbidden from viewing.

The books there did not necessarily possess greater academic value than the rest of the library's collection, but they contained terrifying spells and profound magic that were dangerous and unsuitable for students.

Many of the reference materials and documents Roger needed for modifying the body were in the Restricted Section.

...Danger aside, the various body-modification experiments from the early days of wizarding civilization were themselves filled with bloody absurdity and violations of human ethics. Their effect on young wizards' minds was impossible to measure!

Professor McGonagall had only made this decision because Roger's experiences were unusual, his will was firm, and he could remain true to himself.

Still, Professor McGonagall had left herself a safeguard. "You are not permitted to borrow Dark Magic books. Madam Pince will keep records of the titles you borrow, and I will check them from time to time."

"Don't worry." Roger smiled. He knew what McGonagall was concerned about.

He understood the dangers of Dark Magic. He had no interest in magic related to emotions; that was not what he pursued—the true path to transcendence.

"Harry, don't you think those two are a little strange?" After class, as they walked back to their dormitory, Ron looked at the friend beside him.

"Who?" Harry Potter knew that his friend had a hard time staying quiet. Whenever he was bored, he would always find ways to entertain himself, usually by complaining about everything that had happened to him that day.

"Who else but those two 'Ravenclaws' in our first-year Gryffindor class!"

"One acts all high and mighty, with her nose in the air, always trying to show off how much she knows in every class... Tch." Ron curled his lip.

"The other looks like he's thinking about something all day long. He can successfully cast nearly every spell in any magic-related practical class on his first try."

"But he never gets too close to anyone, and no one has ever managed to invite him out to play."

Ron paused here. "And both of them spend every spare moment buried in the library."

"I heard from his dorm mates that even when he goes back to the dormitory, he never takes his eyes off his books until lights-out... Oh, Merlin's beard." Ron simply could not understand how such people existed—or rather, why such people had come to Gryffindor instead of Ravenclaw.

"Ron!" Harry frowned. "Don't speak badly about people behind their backs... They're both nice people, actually."

Though Ron had not named them, Harry knew exactly who he meant.

Hermione Granger and Roger Virgil.

Harry raised a hand and pushed up his glasses. "Did you see this?"

"What?" Ron looked confused.

"My glasses."

"They were always cracked. Hermione noticed two days ago and fixed them for me with the Mending Charm."

"And." Harry turned to Ron, his expression serious.

"In Potions class, Roger helped Neville, prevented a potion accident, and protected the people nearby. They're good people. You shouldn't talk about them like that just because they're different from everyone else in some ways!" Harry Potter had grown up living with relatives, without friends and constantly being bullied.

Having finally made a friend, he treasured him dearly.

That was why he did not want the only friend close to him now to become someone like his cousin, Dudley Dursley!

Within a group, calling someone strange was often the beginning of isolation and bullying. Harry Potter was sensitive to that.

"I..." Seeing Harry's serious expression, Ron was at a loss.

But someone came to his rescue.

"Y-you two, students should be friendly with one another..." A somewhat stammering voice sounded beside them, interrupting the tension between them.

There was no need to turn around. The large turban and the pungent smell of garlic had already revealed the newcomer's identity.

The Defense Against the Dark Arts professor rumored to be hiding from vampires, Quirrell! "Professor Quirrell." Harry and Ron greeted him.

Quirrell had naturally not come to Harry over the issue of harmony among students. He had another purpose.

"I heard you were talking about Roger."

"I'm a little curious about him. Can you tell me what he is like from a student's perspective?" Professor Quirrell's gaze was meaningful.

Ten years ago, he had temporarily withdrawn from the stage of history because of a prophecy. While studying at Hogwarts, he had been deeply interested in Arithmancy, and had even made the number of Horcruxes seven, a number steeped in mysticism.

How could this Dark Lord possibly have no interest whatsoever in a supposedly powerful Seer?!