Voldemort was baffled! The battle in Quirrell's office!

After years of scheming and struggle, he had ultimately fallen to a newborn child.

How could the conceited Voldemort possibly accept that?

It had taken all his restraint to keep himself from attacking.

Harry stood up in bewilderment, unsure why the question had been thrown at a complete noob like him.

Little did he know that he was already on the brink of death!

Looking at the Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor's frosty expression, he somehow felt as though he were looking at Snape.

Desperately putting his seldom-used brain to work, Harry spoke timidly.

"Sorry, Professor. I don't know."

"You don't know?" Voldemort froze for a moment.

You don't even know how your parents died?

Aren't you a little too carefree?

He stared at Harry suspiciously and continued questioning him. "What is the definition of Dark Magic?"

"I don't know, Professor."

"How many types of spells are there?"

"I don't know..."

"What are the necessary conditions for casting a spell?"

"I... I don't know!"

Harry kept shaking his head, nearly leaving Voldemort dumbstruck.

He could not believe he had lost to a brat without the slightest knowledge of basic magic!

Voldemort could accept losing to a powerful, legendary wizard like Dumbledore, or a Dark Lord like Grindelwald who had swept across Europe.

He could even accept defeat at the hands of a brilliantly gifted wizard like Argus.

But what on earth was this thing before him?

Useless at everything, unable to answer anything!

Dying at the hands of someone like this was the shame of his life!

Watching Voldemort's expression as he questioned his entire existence, Argus tried hard to lower his head so Voldemort would not see his smile.

How much magic did you expect someone who had always lived in the Muggle world to know?

If he hadn't heard a few things from Hagrid and Ron, he probably wouldn't even know who anyone in the Wizarding World was!

In fact, the main reason for Voldemort's fury was that he had never gathered any intelligence on Harry.

Ever since his own Killing Curse had struck him, his main soul had clung to life by inhabiting rats, reptiles, and other creatures.

Even after attaching himself to Quirrell, all he had thought about was how to resurrect himself.

He had never had the leisure to concern himself with Harry!

Besides, as he understood it, Harry was a pure-blood wizard, the Wizarding World's Chosen One, and the heir to the Potter Family.

Dumbledore would surely take good care of him.

It was even possible that he would take Harry as his personal disciple.

Now that Harry could not answer a single question, there was only one explanation!

Harry was a hopeless case who spent his days idling about, eating, and waiting to die!

Voldemort struggled to suppress his rapidly rising anger as he spoke to Harry through gritted teeth.

"Mr. Potter, five points from Gryffindor for your ignorance!"

"Sit down!"

Harry felt terribly wronged, unsure what he had done wrong.

He felt as though everyone had been targeting him ever since he arrived at Hogwarts.

Voldemort, too, was seething because of Harry.

Although he continued teaching, he had clearly lost his earlier enthusiasm.

He struggled through the rest of the lesson, then stopped Argus as he was about to leave.

"Mr. Grindelwald, please wait a moment."

Argus looked warily at Voldemort and waved to Draco and the others, signaling that they need not wait for him.

Voldemort's methods were far beyond anything these newly enrolled young wizards could resist.

They were all core members of his future forces. He could not possibly put them in danger.

"Professor Quirrell, is there something you need?"

Argus asked politely.

"I believe I told you two days ago that we would meet again."

"Will you refuse my invitation this time as well?"

Seeing Argus hesitate, Voldemort turned his gaze toward Draco and the others nearby.

His eyes held a meaningful look.

"Or you could invite Mr. Malfoy, Mr. Nott, and the others along."

"Given their curiosity about magic, I imagine they would gladly accept."

A threat. A blatant threat!

Voldemort's meaning was clear.

Come with me, or I'll go sweet-talk Draco and the others!

They certainly can't protect themselves with Occlumency like you can!

Argus gritted his teeth in hatred, but did not dare gamble with Draco and the others' safety.

He bowed with a smile.

"It is my honor to receive an invitation from you, Professor."

He followed Voldemort all the way to Quirrell's office.

"Mr. Grindelwald, with your intelligence, I imagine you have already guessed something."

With no one else to get in his way, Voldemort no longer held back.

He forcefully displayed the bearing of a Dark Lord.

He looked at Argus as though he were prey, his gaze brimming with the certainty of success.

Unwilling to expose the advantage of knowing the plot, Argus played along with Voldemort.

"You're not Professor Quirrell. Who are you?"

"Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Tom Riddle, though you may also call me by another name."

"Voldemort!"

Argus showed no shock at this answer he had long known.

He looked calmly at the other man.

"I was right about you. You are one of the few who show no fear upon hearing my name."

Voldemort was surprised by Argus's composure.

But when he remembered the boy's identity, he understood.

As the son of a Dark Lord, why would he fear another Dark Lord?

"So you called me here just to tell me who you are?"

"Of course not." Seated in his chair, Voldemort looked up at Argus.

"Mr. Grindelwald, with the blood of a Dark Lord running through your veins, do you really want nothing more than to stay at Hogwarts, playing make-believe wizard games with those Mudbloods?"

"Submit to me and pledge your loyalty!"

"I will lead you to the pinnacle of the world!"

Argus said nothing, watching Voldemort quietly.

The moment Voldemort revealed his identity, Argus had already guessed what he would say.

Both his talent and the Acolytes group were things Voldemort coveted.

It was perfectly natural for him to want to recruit Argus.

Unfortunately, Argus was not interested!

Two nights ago, he and Voldemort had been in an empty corridor, and hardly anyone had known his whereabouts. If Voldemort had attacked then, he truly would have been helpless.

But now, at least several dozen people knew he had come to Quirrell's office. He did not believe Voldemort would dare attack!

As for the Imperius Curse... he would have to be capable of using it first!

Occlumency also offered resistance against mind-invading magic like the Imperius Curse, not to mention that Voldemort was currently half-dead.

How the hell was he supposed to cast it?

"Mr. Voldemort, my loyalty is not something you can obtain with a few words."

"No matter how you look at it, both my situation and the Acolytes' are far better than yours and your Death Eaters'."

"Are they not?"

Voldemort did not become angry at Argus's words.

Though making Horcruxes had turned him cruel and bloodthirsty, as a leader capable of building an organization as vast as the Death Eaters, his temperament was far beyond that of ordinary people.

There were many things he was not incapable of restraining himself over.

He simply did not want to!

He stood and looked Argus straight in the eye.

"Mr. Grindelwald, you know very well that everything the Acolytes have is built on your father."

"But how much longer can he live? Three years? Five?"

"I've always known that my father's passing is only a matter of time. Just as..."

At some point, a glint of blue flashed in Argus's eyes as he interrupted Voldemort.

The next second, red light flared.

"Expelliarmus!"

"Just as I knew you were going to attack me!"