Hogwarts: I am Voldemort.

Chapter 209 Awakening Magic Talent
"here."

Trelawney pointed to a text and read it.

"If you want to be a prophet, you'd better find the second vision first - this is actually the Celestial Eye, which can also be called the prophet's eye - when you have the second vision, you can make real predictions."

After reading this paragraph, she looked at Voldemort with anticipation in her eyes.

"You have the Celestial Eye, child, you have it."

Trelawney was as excited as if she had found a bottle of century-old wine, and her excitement even made Voldemort full of doubts.

"Professor, don't you also have Celestial Eye?" Voldemort asked.

Trelawney froze for a moment, and Voldemort instantly sensed the timidity in her heart.

"Cough... yes, cough cough, of course I have a second vision, I mean the Celestial Eye, of course, it's also called the prophet's eye... um, yes, that's it."

Trelawney stood up and turned back to her breakfast.

She picked up the milk and looked out the window with dull eyes.

Voldemort was stunned by her, why did he suddenly become silent?

"I don't have an eye, boy, I lied," said Trelawney suddenly.

She turned again, leaving more of her back to Voldemort.

"I'm always asked: 'Are you the great-great-granddaughter of the famous prophet Cassandra Trelawney?'

I say yes'.

They would ask: 'Are you the first person in your family to have a second sight since Cassandra? '

I would proudly say: 'Yes, three generations down the line, that's it. '"

Trelawney would change the tone of her voice when imitating dialogue.

Apparently, she did go through this a lot of times, because she completely imitated the two people.

Voldemort smacked his mouth, he knew Trelawney's question:

This fortuneteller who has opened the Celestial Eye countless times did not realize that he had a real prophecy.

"hiss~~"

Trelawney shrugged her shoulders, looking like she was sniffling.

Then she turned her back on Voldemort and rubbed her eyes vigorously.

When she turned around again, beside her red eyes, there were still tears that had not been wiped away.

This is a strong fortune-teller who suffers from her failure to live up to the achievements of her ancestors.

"It's nothing, Neville, it's nothing."

She said in a rare low voice, "Although I haven't inherited any talent from my ancestors, nor have I made any decent predictions, but Neville, I'm trying to become a good fortuneteller."

Voldemort could feel the sincerity in her eyes, as well as the sincerity in her heart.

"You are indeed the greatest fortune teller of our time, Sibia Trelawney, I have always thought so."

Trelawney froze for a moment, she stared blankly at Voldemort for a while, and then suddenly smiled and spoke.

"Thank you, Neville, you remind me of an old friend, I think he will comfort me in the same way."

After she finished speaking, she came back to Voldemort and turned over a few pages of [Cassandra's Prophet Notes].

"My ancestors tried to collect different prophetic eyes. Those eyes are different, and only the top fortune-teller can see the difference."

Voldemort nodded, which was exactly what he needed.

"You can see white and red, can't you?" she asked Voldemort.

"Yes, white is more like light, and red is like flame."

Trelawney nodded, flipping through the book quickly, turning almost every page with a glance.

There was no other sound in the room except the sound of flipping books.

Voldemort looked at Trelawney, and found that she looked very... intellectual at this moment.

Completely different from the chaos and confusion of the past, she seemed to be a different person.

"What are you looking at?" Trelawney asked.

"Nothing, Professor, I just think you are beautiful." Voldemort said with a smile.

"Someone once said that."

Trelawney said happily, and then continued to flip through the books, "Neville, you have this extraordinary talent, I hope you can cherish it, if you want, I can give you extra lessons every night, about divination."

Voldemort was silent, he certainly would not agree, but now is not the time to refuse.

"Actually, divination is not difficult to learn, or in other words, this subject requires too much talent."

Trelawney stopped talking, and she turned the pages faster.

After a while, she finally stopped and frowned at the same time.

"Are you sure there are only white lights and red flames?" She asked suspiciously.

Voldemort nodded vigorously.

"Then my ancestors probably didn't record this Celestial Eye. It may be a very unique one, but we can explore it." Trelawney said with a smile.

This time it was Voldemort's turn to frown; he had no time to explore here.

"Can't I look any further, Professor?" asked Voldemort. "I should really like to know sooner what all this means."

Trelawney scratched her head and said helplessly, "Only with these two pieces of information, I can't be sure about anything."

"Red eyes," said Voldemort suddenly. "I noticed once, when I could see those, that the eyes turned red."

"red?"

Trelawney looked at Voldemort suspiciously, "Then I have to see it to be sure, Neville, next time your eyes change color, come to me quickly."

Voldemort thought about it, and he decided to try it.

"Wait a minute, Professor, I think maybe now..."

As he spoke, he tried hard to let the red eyes in his soul reflect into Neville's body.

But he didn't succeed right away, as if something was holding him back.

"Boom."

After several efforts, there was a light sound from the right eye, and severe pain hit.

"what."

Voldemort let out a low growl, covered his right eye with his hand, and blood flowed from the pupil.

Neville's eyes won't be ruined by me...

Just as he was thinking, Neville's soul suddenly began to resist, and a needle-like mental force pierced Voldemort's soul.

"Ah~~"

He roared louder, and at the same time controlled the spirit to fight back.

"Are you all right, Neville?" Trelawney asked, terrified.

"I'm fine, Professor, please give me a moment."

Voldemort comforted her while suppressing Neville who wanted to regain control of his body.

This kid's mental power is very strong, reminding Voldemort of the thorn made of mental power he encountered when he fused his soul.

"who are you?"

In the back of his mind, Neville asked angrily, "Why do you control my body?"

"Don't worry, Neville, I'll return your body soon."

Voldemort comforted him, he found it difficult to suppress the other party in a short time, after all, this body belonged to Neville.

He wanted to convince the other party through words, but after he spoke, Neville was silent for a moment.

"Teacher?" He asked uncertainly.

"Yes, Neville, give me a moment, will you?" Voldemort asked.

"Guide...I don't like this feeling, I can't control the feeling of my body, can you leave?" Neville asked.

"Not yet, Neville," said Voldemort, "just a little longer, okay, soon."

Under Voldemort's appeasement, Neville's resistance gradually disappeared.

He fell silent, seemingly acquiescing to Voldemort's words.

(End of this chapter)