Headmaster's Invitation

Seven o'clock in the morning, and a knock sounded on the office door.

Voldemort, who had been fast asleep, jolted awake, a book falling to the floor beside him.

Merciful heavens, Madam Pince had only just returned last night, and he had impatiently entered the library late, selecting a few books to read.

This book, Origin of Magic: From Past to Future, was his favorite. He had only fallen asleep as dawn broke, and now...

"Percy, it's too early." Voldemort spoke, looking at the nervous red-haired boy outside the door.

"Sorry, Professor, but I have something to discuss."

Percy was a little agitated. "I already told Professor McGonagall last night, but she said she'd give me an answer today. I went over this morning, and Professor McGonagall said the Headmaster would discuss this matter with you."

"Headmaster Dumbledore?" Voldemort's drowsy mind instantly cleared as he poured himself a glass of water. "But I haven't received any word from the Headmaster."

Percy nodded. "I went to the Headmaster's Office, and he asked me to invite you over."

Voldemort grinned, thinking what a good kid he was.

"Now?"

"Yes, he's waiting for you in his office. The password is honeycake."

"Alright, I'll head up now."

Voldemort pulled a book titled Encountering a Faceless Yaoguai from a bookshelf, then picked up Origin of Magic, which had fallen to the floor earlier, and walked out of his office.

"Professor, please do your best to let me become your assistant. It's too important to me," Percy mumbled, following him.

"Alright, Percy, I'll do my best. Go eat, you don't need to follow me."

After sending Percy away, Voldemort walked directly to the spiral staircase not far away. This was a shortcut from the third floor directly to the eighth, saving a lot of time.

"Honeycake." Voldemort said, perking up in front of the familiar stone statue.

Rumble.

The stone statue moved aside, revealing a hidden passage. Voldemort walked straight in.

"Good morning, Quirrell. I hope I'm not disturbing your rest," Dumbledore said, stirring an unknown liquid while wearing a flamboyant purple robe.

"Not at all, I was about to get up anyway," Voldemort replied with a smile, then sat down directly in front of the massive desk, placing the two books he was holding on it.

"Origin of Magic, a very good book. The description of Merlin in it is quite interesting."

Dumbledore brought the stirred liquid over to him. "Chocolate honey juice, would you like to try some?"

"No, Headmaster, it's too sweet," Voldemort refused.

Dumbledore shrugged, turned back to sit behind his desk, poured himself a cup, and drank more than half of it in one gulp.

"The great Wizard Merlin, on the path of Elemental Magic, wanted more wizards to join him, but clearly not every wizard is named Green. Elemental Magic requires unique talent."

Dumbledore recited a large portion of the book from memory, which greatly surprised Voldemort.

"Do you like this book very much?" Voldemort asked.

"Yes, who wouldn't want to explore the origin of magic?"

Dumbledore exaggeratedly raised his hand. "Some of the theories in this book are the most plausible I've ever seen. You can check page two hundred and thirty-six. I've written down some of my thoughts there."

Voldemort nodded, mentally noting the page number. He had to admit, he was amazed by Dumbledore's memory. Was this really a 109-year-old man?

"I heard your magic has mutated. May I see it?" Dumbledore inquired, his eyes behind his half-moon spectacles filled with curiosity.

"Of course, Headmaster, but it works on and off."

As Voldemort spoke, he cast an Illumination Charm, causing the light to detach from his wand and float in the air as points of light.

Dumbledore, without his wand, simply waved his hand, and the light points floated towards him.

"It's quite magical, isn't it?" Dumbledore said. "I can feel the magic within it. It should have dissipated, but some force is preventing it."

"Yes, I can't figure out the reason either," Voldemort replied.

"Did anything special happen?" Dumbledore asked.

Voldemort shook his head. He couldn't exactly say it was because of his skills.

"Then it must be your talent, just like Merlin. No one in the wizarding world has ever used Elemental Magic as well as he did."

Dumbledore waved his hand again, letting the light points hover above their heads. "Don't mind it. Let's see how long it can last."

"Alright, Headmaster," Voldemort agreed, then asked, "I wonder what you wanted to discuss with me."

"Oh, yes, about Percy." Dumbledore's gaze finally shifted from the light points. "Doesn't Gryffindor have any better prefects? He has exams this year."

"I've also considered this issue. For the other houses, I've chosen prefects in their sixth year who don't have exam pressure. But I must say, Percy is the most outstanding in Gryffindor. Others can also be chosen; it depends on you."

Voldemort directly stated his thoughts, leaving the decision to Dumbledore.

"If that's the case..."

Dumbledore seemed hesitant, which puzzled Voldemort. This didn't seem like a difficult decision.

"Please allow me to ask an impolite question."

Dumbledore frowned and asked, "Aren't you making this decision to get your hands on a Time-Turner?"

Voldemort's eyes widened in surprise; before Dumbledore could speak, he hadn't had that thought at all—he just wanted a Death Eater named Weasley.

"Pfft."

The light points in the air extinguished, and Voldemort snapped out of his surprise. Dumbledore wore an apologetic smile on his face.

"Sorry, Quirrell, I was overthinking," he said, shaking his head with a wry smile. "You must forgive a confused old man, lost in the fog and unsure of his way."

Voldemort wore an expression of indifference, but deep down, he pondered the meaning behind Dumbledore's words—was he anxious because he couldn't find me?

"I don't mind, Headmaster," Voldemort said. "But I must say, your words have given me an idea. If the opportunity arises, I believe I will study it."

Dumbledore chuckled wryly. "You used it in your third year. That thing is indeed special, but also very difficult to understand."

"I was young then, just as I wouldn't have considered the Origin of Magic back then," Voldemort said.

"Alright, suit yourself, but remember," Dumbledore said sternly, "don't try to use it. Adult magic has a significant impact on it, and you might get lost in the mists of time."

Voldemort nodded seriously, indicating he understood, then pointed to the spot above their heads where the light points had just disappeared.

"My magic has this same characteristic; I think this will be convenient for my research." This was Voldemort's true thought.

"Indeed."

Dumbledore nodded thoughtfully and added, "Regarding your magical characteristics, if you need anything, you can come to me for research anytime. An old man's insights are occasionally useful."

"Thank you, Headmaster. If I need anything, I will come to you," Voldemort said, rising to take his leave, as the matter had already been resolved.

"How is the curse? Has it acted up?" Dumbledore asked.

"It doesn't feel like it, Headmaster," Voldemort said.

"Alright, if there are any problems with this matter, you can also tell me."

Dumbledore stood up and said as he saw him off, "I will personally write to the Ministry of Magic. Percy's things will be mailed to him soon."

"That's good news for him. I thank you on his behalf, Headmaster."

"He's a good boy, and he deserves it."

The two bid farewell, and Voldemort went downstairs, heading towards the Great Hall—which served as both a hall and a dining room.