Voldemort's Curse

Veratia's face darkened upon hearing Gellert's words.

What do you mean I'm not some White Wizard?

"I'm clearly a harmless little witch!" Veratia retorted, her face darkening. "I'm so innocent and kind..."

"Heh heh heh—" Gellert laughed as if he had a toothache. "Innocent? Kind? Content with the world? I hope the Grindylow and Goblin would agree with you. Good heavens, I don't know if you've ever heard this saying, sister? It's called 'The more a person lacks something, the more they like to flaunt it.'"

Before he could finish speaking, Gellert's mouth was sealed shut as if by a zipper.

"You need to shut up, my dear Gale," Veratia said with a gentle smile. "If I hear another word of slander against me from your mouth, don't blame me for being ruthless!"

Gellert immediately lowered his head. He had been thinking of putting up a little resistance, but Veratia's words completely extinguished his will to resist.

Only a fool would resist! Bastard!

Life is so wonderful, Gellert hasn't had enough of it yet.

"Harry!" Veratia suddenly called on Harry's name. "Do you think Gellert has a point?"

"I think what he said is utter nonsense!" Harry stated his position without hesitation. "In my heart, you will always be that gentle, lovely, and kind little witch who never quarrels with the world."

Cassandra rolled her eyes and gagged.

But Veratia chose to automatically filter out her movements.

"That's my good boy." Veratia gently patted Harry's head, just like she would pat her son.

Is that correct?

Harry felt something was off, but he couldn't quite put his finger on what it was.

"Oh, right," Harry said again, "This time I've discovered a secret—a secret about Voldemort and Runcorn."

"Oh?" Veratia asked with interest, "How did you know? Did Riddle tell you on his own initiative?"

"No, I Legilimency," Harry said with a smile. "He got three things from Hepzibah Smith: Hufflepuff's Cup, Slytherin's locket, and a fragment of Runcorn's Horcrux fragment."

"Horcrux fragment?" Veratia frowned. "Runcorn also made Horcrux?"

"It was probably just an accident. After he died, a part of his soul attached itself to a Crystal shard," Harry shrugged. "I think this resurrection of Runcorn was something Voldemort orchestrated using Horcrux."

Dumbledore had been silent until now, finally spoke.

"You mean, Tom got two of the Four Founders ' relics from Hepzibah Smith, and fragments of Runcorn, right?"

"Yes," Harry nodded.

Dumbledore sighed.

"What's wrong, Professor?" Harry asked with concern.

"Nothing," Dumbledore said, shaking his head. "I was just thinking about something— the Ministry of Magic has always believed that Hepzibah Smith's death was caused by the carelessness of her House Elf —based on the investigation of the House Elf Hokey, it was concluded that Hokey accidentally put poison in her mistress's evening cocoa tea, which led to Hepzibah Smith's death—"

"Hokey admitted it?" Harry asked, frowning.

Dumbledore nodded, a glint of light flashing in his crescent-shaped glasses.

"She only remembered putting something in the hostess's cocoa tea, but it turned out to be not sugar, but a rare and deadly poison—but the verdict said it was not premeditated murder, but rather due to her failing eyesight."

"It seems," Harry thought of what he'd seen in Morfin's memories when the Riddle family died, "That they share a common thread—the Riddle family all have a clear memory of the murders. This must be because Tom altered the memories—that naturally evil Riddle brat!"

"He is indeed very evil." Dumbledore nodded, agreeing with Harry's words.

"Now that we know how Runcorn was resurrected, what should we do next?" Cassandra asked. "We killed him once a hundred years ago, and I don't mind doing it a second time."

"If the American Ministry of Magic doesn't give in, we won't be able to enter the America," Veratia said with deep regret. "No matter who this Runcorn is."

But when Veratia said those words, Harry could clearly see a hint of schadenfreude flashing in her eyes.

This woman is actually quite petty and holds grudges very much.

Moreover, it is the American Ministry of Magic that is courting disaster. They have angered Veratia first, and they are not allowing the Grindelwald family, or anyone related to them, to enter the America States.

Think about it, there are only a handful of powerful wizards in the world.

Of the wizards who were able to defeat Voldemort, Dumbledore and Gellert Grindelwald were closer than brothers, Harry Potter was Veratia's old flame, and Veratia himself, well, Veratia's last name was Grindelwald.

Now that this ban has been issued, it has to be said that the America have truly shot themselves in the foot.

They don't deserve any sympathy, really.

"However, we must always take precautions," Veratia said again. "We can't just sit here and wait to die. Although the American Ministry of Magic does not allow us to enter its territory, we need to take some precautions against Runcorn and Riddle. I will have someone set up a protective and surveillance network across the Europe continent. As soon as they enter Europe territory, we can lock onto and strike them."

"And what about America?" Harry asked.

"Hahaha," Veratia laughed, pinching Harry's little face. "You're so cute."

Okay.

Since the America has brought this upon itself, Harry feels there's really no need to save them.

"By the way," Dumbledore suddenly said, "Since you were able to remove the curse from Miss Saru, could you also remove the curse from the Defense Against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts?"

"Sure," Harry shrugged. "But I'm more curious why Riddle cursed the position. Was it simply because you rejected his application?"

"The matter is rather complicated."

Dumbledore sighed and said to Harry, "If you want to know, I can give you the memories so you can see for yourself."

"Need not."

Harry walked to the cup containing Voldemort's soul orb, picked up his wand, and violently tore a strand of silver thread from the orb, placing it in the Pensieve.

"Okay." Dumbledore clicked his tongue, unsure whether this was the right or wrong thing to do.

Then Harry went over and put his face into the Pensieve.

Alongside him were Cassandra and Veratia, both of whom were also curious about the matter.

What exactly drives Voldemort to curse this position?

Harry spun around and landed in the Headmaster's Office. When he opened his eyes, he found his two girlfriends standing next to him.

"Why are you here too?" Harry asked curiously.

"Curious." Cassandra remained concise and aloof.

Harry surveyed the Headmaster's Office. Fawkes was fast asleep on the perch, Dumbledore sat behind the desk, looking Dumbledore from the memories, perhaps with slightly fewer wrinkles. Snow was falling outside the office; pale blue snowflakes drifted past the window in the darkness, accumulating on the windowsill.

The younger Dumbledore seemed to be waiting for something, and sure enough, a knock came at the door a moment later.

"Come in," he said.

Voldemort entered, his face strange and distorted, completely unlike the ghost Riddle Harry had seen—his eyes weren't as red, but his face was no longer as handsome. His face seemed burned, his features blurred, like wax, strangely twisted.

His eyes now seemed permanently bloodshot, but not too distorted. He wore a long black cloak, and his face was as white as the snowflakes on his shoulders.

"So ugly," Cassandra said with disgust. "How could he have become so—disgusting?"

"This is the price of power, isn't it?" Harry glanced at Voldemort's bald, egg-shaped head. "I've gone bald, and I've become stronger?"

"Ha." Cassandra curled her lip in disdain. "I haven't seen either of you, or Grindelwald, become this ugly—"

"If I had to choose, I would rather live an ordinary life than become so ugly," Veratia said firmly.

For girls, beauty seems to be more precious.

But Harry felt that Veratia was being hypocritical. If given a choice at the age of twelve, Harry guessed that Veratia might choose to pursue power and never turn back down that path.

After all, only those who have truly experienced it can understand how precious power really is.

Cassandra seemed to think the same way Harry did; she also believed that Veratia wouldn't be the kind of person who would choose beauty over power.

Dumbledore, behind the table, showed no surprise; this visit was clearly pre-arranged.

"Good evening, Tom," Dumbledore said casually.

"Thank you." Voldemort sat down in the chair Dumbledore pointed to.

"I heard you became the Headmaster," his voice was higher and colder than in his spirit form, "A respectable choice."

"I'm glad you agree," Dumbledore a smile. "May I buy you a drink?"

"Thank you very much," said Voldemort. "I've traveled a long way."

Dumbledore stood up and strode to the cabinet where the Pensieve was now kept, but it was now filled with bottles of wine.

He handed Voldemort a glass of wine, poured one for himself, and then returned to his desk.

"So, Tom —what wind blew you here?" Dumbledore asked curiously.

Voldemort did not answer immediately; he simply sipped his wine, and after a while, he finally spoke.

"They don't call me ' Tom ' anymore; now I'm called Yi-Yi."

"I know what you're called," Dumbledore pleasant smile, "But to me, you'll probably always be Tom Riddle. That's probably one of the annoying things about teachers—they never completely forget what their students were like back then."

Harry could notice that Voldemort's eyes clearly showed displeasure after hearing Dumbledore's words.

It's not surprising, considering Voldemort's arrogance and his hatred of his Muggle heritage. Of course, he also loathed his Muggle father's name and surname.

He desperately wanted people to forget this name, which he considered utterly "shameful," and instead call him by another name.

This is also why Voldemort quickly changed his name after gaining power—he didn't want others to know that he had Muggle blood.

After speaking, Dumbledore raised his glass as if to toast Voldemort.

Voldemort remained expressionless.

"Did you see that?" Veratia said softly. "Dumbledore's refusal to use the title chosen by Voldemort is a way of refusing to let Voldemort dominate the conversation."

That's true, otherwise Voldemort wouldn't have been so unhappy.

"I also think this is a clash between the two," Cassandra said softly. "Perhaps this is one of the reasons Voldemort came to Hogwarts?"

"It shouldn't be," Harry said. "Or rather, more than that. I remember seeing in Voldemort's memories that when he returned to Hogwarts, he also put the Ravenclaw's Diadem, which had already been made into Horcrux, into the Room of Requirement— "

As soon as she finished speaking, Veratia stomped her foot hard.

"No wonder, no wonder I smelled the Horcrux in the Room of Requirement!" she said angrily. "It was Voldemort was behind it all—good for him!"

It's clear that Veratia is genuinely angry—after all, the Room of Requirement was originally the meeting room of the first generation Order of the Phoenix.

It's also the place where Veratia and Harry left behind countless sweet memories.

So he was corrupted by Voldemort's Horcrux?

Absolutely unforgivable!

Cassandra subtly moved to the side, slowly shifting from Veratia's side to the other side, separated from Harry.

"Calm down, Veratia," Harry said, touching Veratia's conscience.

While Veratia was still furious, Voldemort and Dumbledore's conversation resumed.

"I'm surprised you've been here so long," Voldemort said after a pause. "I've always wondered why a wizard like you never wanted to School Opening."

"Oh," said Dumbledore, still smiling, "For a wizard like me, nothing is more important than passing on ancient skills and training young minds. If I remember correctly, you have also seen the allure of the teaching profession."

"I can still see it now," Voldemort said. "I just wonder why you—you're so often consulted by the Ministry of Magic, and seem to have been nominated twice for Minister for Magic— " actually three times, but a career in the Ministry of Magic has never appealed to me. That's where we have in common, I suppose."Dumbledore corrected him.