Voldemort Couldn't Take It Anymore, That Old Bee Had No Shame!

Outside Knockturn Alley, the few Dark Wizards who had lured Charle over earlier stumbled out one by one, bruised and battered, limping as they fled.

Their faces were full of despair.

They had originally planned to make a killing off Fat Sheep Charle and live the life of wealthy wizards from then on.

But who could have imagined that he was no Fat Sheep at all? He was practically a ferocious tiger in sheep's clothing!

Not only had they failed to make any money, but Charle had even taken the three precious materials they had bought on mortgage, stolen their Wands, and gotten them blacklisted by the Dark Wizards.

Gringotts' debt collectors would be coming soon. If they could not repay the money, they knew without even thinking that those Goblins would squeeze every last drop of value out of what remained of their lives!

The Dark Wizards looked at one another.

"What do we do now?"

"Looks like we can't survive in the British wizarding world anymore. I've heard Gringotts is as merciless as ice and snow toward wizards who owe them money!"

Just as they felt they had nowhere left to turn, the Middle-aged Dark Wizard at their head gritted his teeth.

"I know a rumor. It might let us turn things around."

The others all turned to look at him, and the Middle-aged Dark Wizard continued.

"I heard there is a legend in the North Scottish Wilderness."

"Legend says there was a pair of wizard grave robbers who specialized in stealing treasures from tombs. They lived richly and even took pleasure in robbing graves."

"Until one day, they dug open an ancient tomb and unearthed an incomparably exquisite magical necklace."

"They say the necklace was forged from a magical metal no one had ever seen before. It was shaped like the fang of some beast, and a single glance at it could make you feel a bone-chilling terror mixed with a sense of gorgeous beauty."

"Later, the two wizard grave robbers disappeared. Some say they turned on each other over the necklace and both died in a duel. Others say the necklace carried some special magic that drove them mad and led them into their own graves."

"But one thing is certain: that magical necklace must be worth a fortune!"

"If we can dig it out of a grave in the North Scottish Wilderness, won't we be able to make a comeback?"

At those words, the other Dark Wizards' eyes also lit up with temptation.

A priceless magical necklace—this was their only chance to turn things around.

The Middle-aged Dark Wizard continued to encourage them.

"A person can be unlucky for a while, but they can't be unlucky forever, can they?"

"We've already hit rock bottom. What do we have left to fear?"

A moment later, they unanimously decided to head into the North Scottish Wilderness in search of the legendary Magic Fang Necklace.

Meanwhile, in Diagon Alley.

A garbage cart rolled forward on its own with a creak and a squeak. Tonks, jostled around inside, felt like life was no longer worth living.

Being trussed up by a little wizard and hauled away in a garbage cart like this made Tonks feel as though she was having an utterly absurd nightmare.

Charle, meanwhile, strolled leisurely alongside it, looking entirely at ease.

But upon closer inspection, one would notice that his fingers were clenched tightly around the Mithril Wand, his knuckles raised and white.

Then, as if he had tripped over something, Charle staggered. In truth, he used the chance to spin around swiftly, pointing his Wand at a shadow along the street.

"You've been following me all this way. Come out."

After a brief silence, a figure wrapped in a large turban slowly emerged from the shadows.

A curious voice rang out.

"How did you discover me?"

Looking at the figure, Charle's expression turned incomparably grave.

Wearing a turban wrapped around the back of his head in weather like this made the man's identity obvious.

It was Quirrell, the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor from the original story, who had been possessed by Voldemort and broken into Hogwarts to steal the Philosopher's Stone.

Under that turban, on the back of Quirrell's head, was Voldemort's face!

Charle had no idea when Quirrell had set his sights on him. Thinking back on it now, Quirrell had most likely been in Diagon Alley earlier.

He had witnessed everything Charle did, then followed him all the way here.

If Charle had not cast the Dust-Free Land Curse again when leaving Knockturn Alley to completely erase the magical traces he had left behind, coincidentally enveloping the area where Quirrell stood and sensing that suffocating, trembling magical power, he would never have noticed someone watching him from the shadows.

At this moment, cold sweat slowly seeped down Charle's back.

He was not afraid of Quirrell. What he feared was Voldemort on Quirrell's body.

Although Voldemort was currently only a remnant soul, far weaker than he had been at his peak, a starving camel was still bigger than a horse.

Even someone like Dumbledore had not rashly acted before fully understanding Voldemort's remaining strength. Naturally, Charle was extremely wary as well.

While gripping his Wand tightly, Charle was already prepared to cast the Killing Curse.

He also felt a wave of relief.

Fortunately, he had deduced Apparition earlier. Otherwise, if he found himself in a situation like this and could not win, he would truly be meat on the chopping block!

At least now, he could still run.

What made Charle relax slightly, however, was that Quirrell did not seem to intend to attack. Instead, he began applauding him.

"I saw you wander into Knockturn Alley earlier, and I was planning to step in and protect you. But then I realized there was no need."

"Mr. Charle, you're a young wizard of Muggle birth who has not even enrolled at Hogwarts yet, but your mastery of Transfiguration has already reached such a profound level."

"If we were at Hogwarts right now, I would give your House a hundred points!"

After praising him, Quirrell finally revealed his identity.

"Don't worry, I'm not a bad person."

"I am the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor hired by Hogwarts this year. I was buying some materials for my classes in Knockturn Alley earlier, but I never expected to witness something so astonishing."

Then Quirrell even blinked, as though trying to close the distance between himself and Charle.

"I won't tell anyone about what happened tonight. After all, everyone should have a few little secrets, shouldn't they?"

The next moment, Quirrell's aura became several degrees colder and more sinister.

With a casual wave of his Wand, a streetlamp by the roadside transformed into a thick python. It coiled across the street, hissing.

The sight made Charle's pupils constrict slightly, and he marveled inwardly.

It looked like Voldemort on Quirrell's body had acted. Was this a display of strength?

Such Transfiguration truly was masterful.

Although Charle had initially deduced Transfiguration, his mastery was only profound compared to ordinary wizards. Against freakishly talented figures like Voldemort and Dumbledore, he was not even at the level they had reached upon graduation, much less compared to the Voldemort of today.

Voldemort's casual display alone made Deep Blue's notification sound in Charle's mind.

"The host has obtained material for the living-transfiguration branch of Transfiguration. The Deduction Point cost required for Second Deduction in this direction has been reduced."

This notification delighted Charle.

Well now, he had not expected his first meeting with Voldemort to come with a little gift.

As for why Voldemort had displayed his Transfiguration mastery before him, Charle could roughly guess. He probably wanted to tempt him into seeking him out after entering Hogwarts, perhaps even helping him seize the Philosopher's Stone.

He might even want Charle to become a hidden pawn planted beside Dumbledore.

That gave Charle an idea.

Opportunities to come into contact with a wizard of Voldemort's caliber were rare.

Dumbledore had promised to teach Charle more spells, but that old bee was far too guarded and always liked setting tests. It was really not very straightforward.

If he could see more advanced magic from Voldemort, then the materials Deep Blue could obtain alone would save Charle many Deduction Points in the future.

But Voldemort was no charity worker either. Possessing Quirrell consumed his own strength. Unless he was greatly provoked, he likely would not display much profound magic.

Was there some way to make Voldemort act on impulse?

As Charle calculated, Voldemort, possessing Quirrell, spoke temptingly.

"Charle, your talent and gifts are not something ordinary professors can teach."

"But I happen to know some powerful magic, such as the Transfiguration you just saw. Once school begins, you can come to me with any magical learning needs you have."

"This professor of yours never keeps anything to himself."

Looking at Charle, Voldemort felt utterly certain that this young wizard would not be able to resist the temptation and would come looking for him.

How could a genius young wizard who possessed such Transfiguration mastery before even enrolling possibly resist the temptation of learning more profound magic?!

At that moment, Charle's eyes lit up as a thought flashed through his mind like lightning.

Then disappointment appeared on his face.

"Ah, Professor, I thought you were going to teach me something special. So it was just Transfiguration."

Then Charle lowered his voice.

"Then I'll tell you a little secret too. Headmaster Dumbledore already promised that he would personally teach me Transfiguration after school begins."

"The Headmaster also said that his Transfiguration is the strongest in the entire Wizarding World."

"I even asked the Headmaster who was better at Transfiguration, him or the mysterious person. The Headmaster said the mysterious person wasn't even fit to carry his shoes."

"According to the Headmaster, much of the mysterious person's magic was actually plagiarized from his notes, then shamelessly claimed as his own. He's utterly disgraceful!"

After Charle said this, "Quirrell's" expression gradually stiffened.

"???"

"What?"

"Old... old Headmaster Dumbledore said that?!"

"Fuck, that really is shameless!"