"Dueling Club."
In the Room of Requirement, Quirrell stood before Tom, the Dark Mark on his wrist burning faintly.
The Dark Mark had a basic communication function.
At Tom's request, Quirrell had used his position as a professor to borrow a pile of books from the library. Tom had then given him permission to use the Dark Mark to come to his side.
"Yes."
Quirrell set down the books in his hands. While stealing curious glances at the room he'd never seen before, he also reported the latest news.
"Dumbledore sent out a notice. He wants me to organize a Dueling Club so students from different years can spar, in preparation for emergencies in the future."
"Why so sudden?" Tom asked, surprised.
Wasn't Lockhart supposed to hold the Dueling Club next year? Why was it happening now?
Could it have something to do with his late-night wandering?
"Apparently, Professor Snape was attacked by Death Eaters last night. The Ministry of Magic spent the whole day investigating, but couldn't find a single clue. To keep the students from coming to harm, Dumbledore came up with this plan."
Quirrell was simply confused.
He couldn't remember doing anything last night. Was there a second Death Eater in the school besides him?
More than just two.
Strictly speaking, there were four Death Eaters hidden inside Hogwarts right now.
"Ahem, never mind that for now." Tom spoke up, then continued slowly, "Quirrell, I have a new task for you."
Quirrell immediately struck a pose of rapt attention.
"I need you to teach me magic, mainly offensive spells."
With the Dueling Club just around the corner, he needed to do something. Perhaps he could bring forward a certain plan by a year.
"Huh? Me? You want me to teach you, Lord Voldemort?" Quirrell looked incredulous.
He was just an unremarkable wizard. How could he teach the legendary Voldemort, a great wizard said to rival Dumbledore?
"Are you really my other self? Why do you need some useless fool to teach you spells?"
The voice came from the back of Quirrell's head.
Ever since he'd split his soul, Voldemort's intelligence and emotional intelligence had plummeted right along with his looks.
He was dependent on Quirrell to stay alive, yet he kept insulting him. Wasn't he afraid Quirrell would snap?
"This is a side effect of replacing this body with a new one." Tom looked helpless.
It was time to put on an acting performance. Ever since arriving in this world, he'd been playing a role nearly every day.
He'd left his hometown, and he'd given himself his own identity.
"This new body came from transforming a Muggle. I did manage to revive myself after I died, but because it's a Muggle body, I've forgotten almost all my magical knowledge. The Dark Mark has a special connection to me. I've used it so often that the instinct to cast it has become imprinted on my soul."
"Something like that is possible?"
Quirrell and Voldemort were a little surprised, but neither doubted Tom's words.
The Dark Mark was a complex spell that combined "life detection, long-distance communication, mind sensing, and pain punishment." The Ministry of Magic had spent ten years studying it without uncovering its secrets.
Yet Tom had cast the Dark Mark silently and wandlessly. That was unquestionably the work of a master of magic.
His body was also strangely powerful.
Tom's explanation cleared up many of the questions troubling them both.
[Friendliness (Lv. 2): Your words and behavior make others feel relaxed and at ease, making them more likely to trust and like you.]
Quirrell was a coward with two faces, while Voldemort had a shattered soul and a life that was hanging by a thread.
Both were in terrible shape, so they were naturally more susceptible to the influence of a persona.
"But... Lord Voldemort, am I really capable of teaching you?" Quirrell asked, deeply unsure of himself.
As a former top student, he knew all too well what his teaching skills were like.
He couldn't even teach children, let alone the legendary Voldemort.
Smack!
Tom rested a hand lightly on Quirrell's shoulder and said softly,
"Have some confidence. You're a 'genius in the theory of Defense Against the Dark Arts,' an outstanding graduate whom Dumbledore rehired as soon as you graduated. You've just been off your game lately."
"But..."
Quirrell started to say something else.
"What? Are you doubting the judgment of the greatest Dark Lord and White Dark Lord of the century?"
"No, no, I wouldn't dare."
[Friendliness +10 progress]
"Lord Voldemort, let's start with the basic spells."
Tom flicked his wand and sent a flash of red at a Wooden Dummy. It was instantly blasted apart.
Diffindo.
Tom's expression didn't change. He immediately pointed his wand at the pile of wooden splinters and sent out a flash of white light.
The Mending Charm, the Floating Charm, the Release Charm...
All kinds of light completely enveloped the dummies.
Quirrell quietly observed each spell, then offered Tom advice, helping him eliminate unnecessary and mistaken movements in his casting and make his spells flow more smoothly.
Magic was a power of the mind, and wizards were creatures of the mind as well.
Once a wizard lost heart, his abilities could stagnate and quickly deteriorate.
But if he could rebuild his confidence from the depths of a slump, there was a chance he might recover.
After Tom's Talk Therapy, Quirrell was clearly more confident. Not only was he sharper, he'd stopped stuttering, and his performance was like night and day compared to how he'd been in class.
For a moment, Tom almost thought he was looking at the Ravenclaw theory genius Quirrell had once been.
"Lord Voldemort, there are three things to remember when casting Expelliarmus: focus, conviction, and a steady center of gravity."
After listening to the explanation, Tom flicked his wrist.
Expelliarmus!
Reducto!
Floating Charm!
Three beams of magic shot out in quick succession, striking an iron-armored Wooden Dummy one after another.
The dummy was disarmed first, then its chest was shattered. Finally, the Floating Charm lifted it high into the air before slamming it into the ground, reducing it to a heap of twisted fragments.
If that had been a person, he'd be dead by now.
"Was I really this talented?" Voldemort wondered.
At the beginning of the practice, Tom had barely been able to cast Expelliarmus. But after just one lunchtime, he could cast it perfectly every time. Afterward, he'd even managed to chain together a smooth combo.
Well, Tom was his other self, after all.
His other self had merely forgotten his old magical knowledge. Since he'd learned it once before, naturally he'd learn it faster a second time.
In that case... should he pass all the Dark Magic knowledge in his head to his other self?
If his other self rose quickly, he, as a Horcrux, would benefit too.
Maybe he could even get his other self to make him a similar body of his own.
"Mm, lunch break is almost over. Let's stop here for today." Tom held his slightly dizzy head.
His body had grown stronger thanks to [Innate Divine Strength], and his mental strength was much greater than before.
But after half an hour of intense spellcasting, he couldn't help feeling a little tired.
He'd need to rest for a while with [Laziness] so he'd have enough energy for his afternoon classes.
When he and Quirrell parted in the corridor, Tom took a quick look at his status panel.
He noticed that his panel had changed, especially the profession section.
[Name]: Tom Marvolo Riddle
[Profession]: Hogwarts first-year student, Dark Lord
"Dark Lord... a profession?" Tom was dumbfounded.
The profession section was the most baffling feature of his status panel.
After he enrolled at Hogwarts, his original [Elementary School Student] profession had become [Hogwarts First-Year Student].
But neither profession seemed to have any effect.
Tom had thought the profession section was useless, but the new profession that had just appeared seemed different. His previous professions had been plain black text on a white background, while the new one was in bold, dark red.
[Dark Lord (Profession): A charismatic and outstanding ruler, able to use some of the abilities of the Death Eaters]
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