"No one has ever truly understood these eyes, Neville, except Moses."
Before Voldemort left the North Tower, when he asked Trelawney what these eyes were for, she told him this.
"But all the prophets, including my ancestors, believe that it was these eyes that allowed Moses to lead his people out of ancient Greece."
"Neville, you could very well become the greatest prophet of this age."
With that answer, Voldemort left the Divination Classroom.
"I don't have that ability, do I?"
As soon as they left the classroom, Neville asked Voldemort.
"That's right, you don't, Neville. That ability belongs to me." Voldemort touched his right eye and spoke to Neville in his mind.
The red pupil in his right eye had faded, but his vision seemed to have been affected. The world looked extremely blurry through that eye.
"You're not a Magic Swordsman mentor either, are you?" Neville's voice came again.
Voldemort paused. After a moment's thought, he said, "That's right. I'm not."
"Who are you?"
"Be brave and act, Neville."
Voldemort raised his hand, then asked Neville in his mind, "Do you know who I am now?"
"Professor Quirrell?" Neville asked in surprise.
"That was just one of my identities, Neville. At the moment, I don't have a body of my own."
"But you were Professor Quirrell, weren't you?"
"I did teach you last year, so you're not wrong."
"Did you come back specially to teach me?"
Neville sounded a little excited, which made Voldemort think the boy was foolishly naïve.
"No. I have other things to do, and you happened to find the diary that contained my soul."
As he spoke, Voldemort patted the diary in his pocket.
"Then what's your true identity? Can I know?" Neville's voice had lost some of its excitement and even sounded a