Request and Conditions

Tom opened his blood-red eyes and looked at Muya with a hint of danger, though the corners of his mouth were raised.

"Pretty smart, aren't you?"

Muya walked around the chair, picked up Qiqi, and sat down. "I really didn't expect this."

She picked up another teacup and took a sip. "The heir I'd been searching for all this time was actually right beside me."

Tom smiled.

"By the way, what else have you been hiding from me, Senior?"

Tom set down his cup. "There is, indeed. But do you really want to know?"

Muya nodded. "Of course."

"I was the one who opened the Chamber of Secrets last time." Tom expected to see some unusual expression on Muya's face.

But Muya's expression did not change. "And? Is that all?"

Tom: "..." That wasn't right. Why wasn't this going the way I'd imagined? No, I need to say something even scarier.

"I am Voldemort."

Muya calmly drank her tea. "You're not. I've seen that guy. He was ugly as hell." As she spoke, she even shuddered, as though she found him utterly disgusting.

Voldemort—Tom—: "..." I think so too, but it still doesn't feel great hearing it!

Besides, was this the era where no one believed you even when you admitted it yourself?

"Why would such a handsome guy as you say you're Voldemort?" Muya could not understand him. Could her senior be one of Voldemort's admirers?

"Alright, alright. I'm going out to eat. Remember to feed Qiqi some cat food." Muya waved and vanished from the spot.

During Defense Against the Dark Arts that afternoon, Muya really had no mood to listen. After all, Lockhart had no real ability and could not teach.

Muya sighed, and then Lockhart called on her to answer a question.

Great. I hate him