Firefly

Unsurprisingly, the "Mutual Aid Society" became popular!

The name Klein Grindelwald was like a golden signboard, attracting almost all the freshmen.

Even the young wizards in their second and third years were eager to join.

After all, that was Grindelwald, the youngest recipient of the Order of Merlin in history!

Who wouldn't want to be friends with someone like him?

Hogwarts, Headmaster's Office.

"If outsiders knew about your decision, they would definitely think you've lost your mind."

Speaking in a low voice while sitting on the sofa, Severus Snape was as gloomy as ever.

But unlike before, his black robes were clean, and even his greasy long hair was much smoother.

At first glance.

It seemed.

He was even a little handsome?

"Heh heh."

Dumbledore just chuckled, not replying.

Since when did he need to explain his actions to others?

I'm an old man, what's wrong with being a little willful?

"I just thought he was too busy, and I was afraid he would be distracted from Potions."

What was originally concern turned into aloofness as it left his lips.

Snape's face was stern. Recalling Klein's recent performance, he sighed subtly.

"I mean, Potions and curses are already enough for him. Why bother with a 'Mutual Aid Society'?"

This was what he couldn't understand the most.

For a genius like Klein, pursuing excellence and forging the extraordinary was the right path.

What qualifications did wizards of mediocre talent have to receive extra guidance?

If these mediocre talents delayed Klein from reaching the pinnacle, it would be a loss to the entire magic world!

"It's alright, I believe that child will handle it."

Looking at Snape with a half-smile, Dumbledore's face remained cheerful.

The old man knew perfectly well that in his heart, the students of the other three houses combined were not as important as Slytherin.

And the entire Slytherin combined was not as important as Klein alone!

Being so biased was truly unique.

"I reserve my opinion on that."

Seeing that he couldn't sway Dumbledore's thoughts, Snape snorted coldly. He could only temporarily put aside the topic. After a few seconds of pause, he changed the subject to more important matters.

"Your informants outside have reported discovering traces of 'that person' recently."

Dumbledore knew very well who "that person" was.

Upon hearing news of Voldemort, the old man couldn't help but straighten his expression and retorted.

"Where?"

"Baljiria. It's said the Dark Mark was discovered there."

When mentioning the "Dark Mark," Snape involuntarily pressed his arm.

The Dark Lord's mark was a permanent brand. Once imprinted, it could never be removed.

It was his shame and the thing he least wanted anyone to see.

"Then you..."

Hearing this, Dumbledore looked at Snape.

"No, I haven't been summoned."

Snape replied with certainty.

"Strange."

Not knowing about the matter of the Magic Ring, Dumbledore was somewhat puzzled.

Since Voldemort had given up on the Philosopher's Stone, it must mean he had found something better. And the activation of the Dark Mark indicated he had become more powerful.

Then why...

did Snape feel nothing?

Voldemort wouldn't have just set off fireworks out of boredom, would he?

Baljiria, edge of the Black Forest.

"Sizzle sizzle!"

Sparks flickered on his reed-stick-like fingers. Voldemort's round, big eyes held both satisfaction and displeasure.

He could finally cast magic on his own.

But...

the power was far from his expectations.

"Patience, I need patience."

Taking a deep breath, Voldemort clenched his fist as if murmuring to himself.

Quirrell had given his all, exchanging it for this ugly body.

But this wasn't the rebirth he wanted!

What's more, he discovered that his new body, like Quirrell's, was weakening at a visible rate.

He had already shrunk from half his previous height at rebirth to the height of a normal person's calf!

The Magic Ring's protection was as obvious as its side effects.

Voldemort estimated that this body would only be enough for him to return to Britain.

After that, he would have to reconsider his resurrection plan.

"Rustle."

As he was contemplating how to obtain a true body in the future, suddenly, the thorn bush behind Voldemort rustled.

He turned his head alertly, only to see a tall, pale figure in a black robe slowly emerge, seemingly oblivious to the poisonous thorns piercing his skin.

"Vampire!"

Voldemort's heart leaped, and he immediately felt troubled.

If he were at his peak, he could have killed dozens of such vampires with a single curse.

But now, his peak was gone; he was merely a broken soul clinging to existence in a false body.

He didn't even have a wand.

"That's my treasure, it's mine..."

The appearing vampire looked down at Voldemort, revealing fangs as he muttered.

No, to be precise, he wasn't looking at Voldemort.

He was looking at the sparkling ring on Voldemort's skinny finger.

This was due to Klein's wicked sense of humor: any impure being would feel an uncontrollable greed upon seeing this ring.

Impure? A vampire who lived by blood was certainly impure.

Thus, he was summoned by the Magic Ring and reached out his clawed hand towards the shining golden ring.

"Get lost!"

Even in this state, how could Voldemort not see that this scum had set his sights on his treasure?

A scream accompanied by a roar. Voldemort's anger was even greater than when his body was destroyed back then.

No one could seize his authority.

This was his treasure.

His alone!

Could he cast the Killing Curse without a wand?

The answer was yes!

A blinding green light struck the vampire head-on, repelling his tall body five to six meters back!

In that moment, Voldemort seemed to have transformed back into the Dark Lord who held life and death in his hands.

Alas, illusions were just illusions.

The "Avada Kedavra" that annihilated everything failed to kill the vampire.

"Roar!"

A growl, clearly inhuman, erupted from his throat. The nameless vampire quickly stood up, and a pair of black bat wings suddenly sprouted from his back.

Voldemort's eyes also turned red. Even in his most desperate moment, he would not allow inferior beings to be so presumptuous in front of him.

Curses, blows, bites!

At this moment, Voldemort was more like a beast than the vampire.

Perhaps his determination was appreciated by the Magic Ring. As he growled, the flame inscription on the ring's surface suddenly flickered, granting him more Magic Power.

And this was the turning point to victory!

"Ah!"

The long-lost victory seemed to elevate Voldemort's soul.

But he didn't know that just as he stood on the vampire's corpse, roaring at the sky.

Several greedy eyes suddenly opened in the darkness.

Baljiria, Dark Forest.

This had always been a gathering place for wizards and various dark creatures.

Voldemort, with the Magic Ring, was like a firefly in the night, emitting an incredibly alluring glow.