Cedric was still in the Kitchen, completely unaware that Quirrell had unwittingly given him free publicity.
He had no idea his name was being passed around as important news, either.
Right now, he was chewing on a snack—Rock Sugar Biting Cabbage—and thinking about how to tackle the Dragon Liver.
Trial and error would cost a fortune.
He could get another portion of Dragon Liver from the shop, of course, but at that price, every bit he ruined would weigh heavily on him.
Ron burst through the Kitchen door with a bang.
"Mr. Cecil! The Biting Cabbage sold out!"
Ron could barely contain the excitement in his voice.
"Here's your share. Thirteen Galleons altogether."
That fast?
Cedric blinked. He had been ready for his first batch not to sell at all.
Instead, every last piece was gone.
"Thank you so much, Mr. Ron."
Cedric took the thirteen gleaming gold coins from Ron and counted out three to hand back.
"These are for your trouble."
"No need."
Ron cheerfully pushed the coins back.
"We agreed I'd just get to taste your cooking. Besides, I hardly did anything. I can't take your money."
"Then I won't argue. I really am short on cash."
Cedric was being honest.
Thirteen Galleons, when his costs had come to less than one—fifteen Sickles in all. Even after subtracting the negligible cost of ordinary ingredients, his profit was a staggering ten times his investment!
He had made a killing.
Cedric was quietly celebrating when Ron dropped even better news on him.
"Oh, and Mr. Cecil, those customers said they'll buy everything you cook from now on, no matter what it is. Money's no object."
Cedric's eyes lit up at once.
His gaze darted straight to the jar of Dragon Liver.
Now he had nothing to worry about.
With customers ready to buy whatever he made, he could experiment freely with the Dragon Liver.
After all, anything made with God's Hand couldn't possibly turn out badly.
Back in his room, Quirrell panted for breath and yanked the scarf from around his neck.
The Venomous Snake coiled around his neck was fully exposed.
It was the same snake as before, but its scales had lost their luster. Rot had set in at several spots, and a gray-white film clouded its eyes.
Its cold body tightened around Quirrell's neck, coil by coil. It fixed him with a chilling stare, its black tongue flicking against his face.
"Quirrell, you've grown bold. You even dare keep my food for yourself."
Voldemort's sinister voice pierced straight into Quirrell's mind, like an icy spike driven into his nerves.
Your food? I paid for it myself!
Quirrell clenched his teeth so hard they nearly cracked, but he did not dare say a word of it aloud. He lowered his eyes and answered.
"Master, I only wanted to test its taste and effects. I swear I had no intention of betraying you!"
"You wouldn't dare. But let me make this clear: disobey me again, and you'll be my next vessel!"
Voldemort delivered the threat with a cold snort.
Quirrell glanced at the snake, and cold sweat broke out down his back.
This was why he feared Voldemort to his very bones.
Voldemort's Spirit Form could not travel far on its own, so he usually hid inside a Venomous Snake.
But Quirrell had seen Voldemort go through more than ten Venomous Snakes. None lasted three days before rotting all over and being discarded like trash.
What if he possessed me instead...
Every time the thought crossed his mind, Quirrell trembled uncontrollably.
He did not want to die, least of all like that.
Voldemort saw how frightened Quirrell was and knew the warning had worked.
With a cold snort, he made the snake slither over to the paper bag of Rock Sugar Biting Cabbage. It tore the bag open, dragged out a cabbage, and swallowed it whole.
The snake ate as snakes did. The entire cabbage slid down its throat, a bulge traveling along its body.
Voldemort lay quietly on the table, digesting his meal.
Watching from the side, Quirrell thought it was a terrible waste.
What flavor could a snake possibly taste? Such good food, wasted.
Suddenly, the snake Voldemort controlled reared up into a striking posture.
Shock flashed in its cold eyes.
Quirrell was badly startled and hurried to ask.
"Master, what's wrong?"
"This thing... it actually increased my Magic!"
Voldemort cried out despite himself.
"It's a miracle!"
As a master of Dark Magic, Voldemort's control over his body ranked among the best of all wizards. Now that only his Spirit Form remained, his sensitivity to Magic Resistance was keener than anyone's, making the effects of the boost unmistakable.
His power had risen by at least fifteen percent! For a wizard at his level, that kind of increase was a miracle.