Why Become the Dark Lord?

His breathing came in ragged gasps, and his hair and forehead were soaked with cold sweat.

Harry's pupils were slightly dilated, as though he had just run three thousand meters.

Roger had not watched the later films, but he had seen short video edits centered around Snape.

Snape had been quite popular in his previous life, and Roger had happened to come across one before.

This time, Roger had expanded upon the death scenes he had seen back then, used his own mental techniques to heighten their realism, and added a few details. When presented to Harry, it should have felt almost like personally experiencing them.

"Just now..." After a while, Harry finally broke free from that terrifying sensation of death. His mouth opened, but he did not know what to say.

"That was one possible future, if I did not exist."

"Voldemort returned with his body fully restored. Everyone at Hogwarts kept fighting, dying one after another."

"Don't make such an ugly face. Since I'm here, the future won't head in that direction."

But this time, Roger had misunderstood. The real reason Harry looked so awful was...

"Voldemort is really still alive?!"

Before enrolling, he had asked Hagrid about Voldemort. Hagrid's answer had been vague: "Some people think he's dead, others say all sorts of things, but I think he's still alive."

And now, the question that had been hanging unresolved in his heart had suddenly been confirmed by Roger.

"Of course he's alive. And he's at Hogwarts right now."

"..." Harry had received too much information today. He was beginning to feel numb.

"But you don't need to worry. With Dumbledore, the professors, and me here, Voldemort can't pull any tricks without his powers restored. Just keep attending school in peace."

The silent Harry suddenly realized that perhaps the world had never been as simple as he had believed. It was Roger, Dumbledore, and the others who had kept all the storms at bay, allowing him to live a peaceful life.

Only now had the real world finally lifted one corner of its veil before him.

"All right, you've rested enough, haven't you? Next, we still need to visit the other professors."

"Luckily, your parents were both well-known figures at school. We should be able to piece together most of their school years, along with some things that happened after graduation, soon enough."

As he spoke, Roger dragged Harry toward the next professor's office.

"Not going to struggle a little more?" Roger smiled.

Roger quickly finished dealing with Harry's matter.

And while Harry immersed himself in the stories of his parents that Roger had "borrowed" from the various professors, Roger had not been idle.

Besides his usual magical research, he now had another important matter.

He continued his agreement with Voldemort, using Quirrell as a bridge to battle Voldemort from afar every week.

At first, Voldemort would still teach Quirrell some magic, in order to determine whether Roger's prophecy was truly so flawless.

But once he confirmed that Roger's prophecy had no loopholes he could exploit, Voldemort stopped teaching Quirrell.

Continuing would be meaningless, aside from allowing this Little Seer to become more familiar with his methods.

"Next time." After ending today's battle, Voldemort ignored Roger's invitation to continue fighting.

In truth, Voldemort did not have absolutely no chance of turning things around.

He still had one final move.

Voldemort was proficient in all kinds of Dark Magic. Naturally, some were evil rituals that sacrificed life to squeeze out a wizard's potential. Perhaps there was a sliver of a chance to break the deadlock through brute force.

But this method of trading one's life for another had two problems. First, according to the contract, Voldemort could not directly intervene in the battle, so Quirrell had to personally arrange the ritual and willingly die.

Second, after suffering a setback at the hands of the Little Seer, Voldemort had experienced a rare sense of powerlessness.

When he looked back at the Hogwarts library, Voldemort suddenly realized that he still had room to improve in certain areas.

The more he learned, the more immature he felt.

For the time being, Voldemort did not really want to discard Quirrell's useful identity.

"Fine." Roger did not force the issue, though he found it somewhat regrettable.

Sparring with Quirrell had not only greatly improved his experience fighting wizards, but had also allowed him to conveniently test quite a few new spells. His grasp of magic had risen another level as well.

If possible, Roger still wanted to fight a few more rounds.

The door to the Room of Requirement opened, and the two returned to the tapestry on the eighth floor of Hogwarts before walking in the same direction.

After their battles, they usually went to the library. Of course, they read separately; walking together was merely convenient because they were headed the same way.

But today was slightly different. Feeling that his Alchemy Eye was about to succeed and that he was only one step away from initial longevity, Roger suddenly had a question he wanted to ask Voldemort.

"Voldemort." As he spoke, Roger snapped his fingers and cast a small soundproofing spell.

Quirrell beside him showed no reaction, but Roger knew Voldemort was listening.

"If I remember correctly, your goal is infinite life and supreme power, right?"

"What about it?" Voldemort spoke through Quirrell.

He found it strange that the Little Seer had suddenly decided to discuss this with him.

"Do you really think Horcruxes can grant you Eternal Life? Do you think a ragtag bunch like the Death Eaters can give you supreme power?"

Voldemort showed no particular reaction to Roger casually mentioning such a secret as Horcruxes and calling the Death Eaters a ragtag bunch.

After all, his opponent was a seer. It was perfectly normal for him to know a great deal. Compared to the Acolytes of Grindelwald, the wizarding world's previous great seer, the Death Eaters truly were somewhat inferior in purity.

"The body is not important to a wizard. Will is the source of our greatness."

"The true strength of Horcruxes lies not only in giving me multiple chances at resurrection."

"More importantly, they can preserve my mind. I can permanently fix my will from different periods of time."

Voldemort did not avoid this topic. If someone unqualified brought it up, he would feel offended and kill them.

But this Little Seer was qualified to discuss it with him.

Voldemort was even somewhat curious about how Roger, a fellow traveler on the path to Eternal Life, viewed his Horcruxes.

Roger nodded. If he followed his own still-immature classification of longevity, agelessness, immortality, and indestructibility...

Voldemort had already reached the stage of "immortality" and completed its initial phase.

He disregarded the body and allowed the soul to endure.

He preserved his will and kept the mind ageless.

He multiplied fragmented souls and resurrected even after death.

But...

"And then?"

"And then what?" Voldemort did not understand what Roger was asking.

"Even at this stage, Horcruxes are still far from being called Eternal Life."

"Do you know that people in the Department of Mysteries are researching time? If someone were willing to sacrifice their life to return several decades into the past and prevent your parents from meeting, wouldn't you disappear immediately? Even ten thousand Horcruxes would be useless."

Roger looked at Voldemort seriously and voiced his true confusion. "Your goal is Eternal Life, yet you also intend to do something as major as ruling the world. Countless wizards will become your enemies, and every kind of attack may fall upon you."

"Time and space, fate, and even other more terrifying methods—your path to Eternal Life still has enormous flaws."

"Why did you stop moving forward after merely creating Horcruxes, so eager to step onto the stage of history?"