Hogwarts: I am Voldemort.

Chapter 7 Diagon Alley

"It is my honor that I can bear more curses on your behalf, Mysterious Man."

When Voldemort got out of the taxi, Quirrell was chattering in the back of his mind.

"I say it for the last time."

Voldemort looked at the Leaky Cauldron, which was sandwiched between bookstores and record stores, and said in a deep voice, "Don't let yourself get into unnecessary trouble, child, you must know how to protect yourself."

"Also, on this issue, we don't need to talk anymore, let's go to rest."

After appeasing the chattering Quirrell, Voldemort walked into the dilapidated, dimly lit Leaky Cauldron, and saw Old Tom behind the bar head-on.

"Hey, Quirrell."

As soon as they met, Old Tom called out his name, "I thought you would die in the Black Forest. They even set a bet on it."

Voldemort followed his gaze and looked not far away. Sure enough, several people at the table were looking at him, and one of them had a look of surprise and annoyance.

"That unlucky guy is Dedalus Diggle, and he bet you won't come back alive." Old Tom said narrowly.

"I don't think he has much brains." Voldemort gave Diggle a deep look, then pointed to his head, and joked to Old Tom.

"what……"

The first syllable of old Tom's laughter broke out, and the angry Diggle slapped the table and stood up.

"Boom..."

"Bald Quirrell, who are you saying has no brains?"

His angry roar quieted the noisy bar, and everyone's eyes turned to the two parties involved.

Old Tom got up and wanted to walk out of the bar to persuade him-he knew that Quirrell was very timid, and he didn't want this kind kid to make a fool of himself in his bar.

However, things did not go as he expected.

"Bald Quirrell, I don't like that name."

Voldemort opened his mouth calmly, and slowly pulled out half of his wand—even though the wand was "dead", it still had a deterrent effect.

"Dedalo Diggle..."

"Are you provoking me, the wanderer of the Black Forest, the future Defense Against the Dark Arts professor at Hogwarts?"

The calm and calm words reveal self-confidence and determination to fight.

Di Ge stood on the spot blankly, he didn't know how to answer, and in the silent bar, everyone was watching him.

His hands trembled, as if he was going to reach for his wand, but the trembling was the only movement he made, and he didn't move any further.

"My God, Quirrell, you're going to Hogwarts to be a professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts?" Old Tom's words liberated Diggle who was stuck in place and didn't know how to respond.

Voldemort gave Diggle another look, and put the wand back in its place.

"I will go for an interview in a few days, but I don't think it's a big problem. After all, I have teaching experience and have been to the Black Forest."

As Voldemort said, he pointed behind Old Tom, "Give me a butterbeer."

"Okay, Quirrell."

Old Tom turned back to pour the wine, and the noise in the bar resumed again. Di Ge left in a hurry, but no one cared about him.

"That's what he is, don't worry about it."

Old Tom said, and handed over the glass, "I invite you to this glass, for the long-awaited reunion."

"Thank you."

Voldemort nodded with a smile, and took a sip—the taste of toffee filled his mouth, and it was slightly bitter during the period, which was very good.

"You have changed a lot, Quirrell, you are more brave." Old Tom looked at Quirrell who put down his glass, and said seriously.

"It seems that my purpose of going to the Black Forest has been achieved." Voldemort said with a smile, but did not answer this question directly.

"But why did you choose Defense Against the Dark Arts, you know..."

"challenge."

Voldemort took out the speech he had prepared, "The Black Forest is dangerous, but that journey is over. I need a new challenge. The curse of the mysterious man is a good choice."

Old Tom shuddered, the name made him uncomfortable, and the bar was silent for a while, and then it became even more noisy.

Old Tom didn't want to discuss the You-Know-Who, so he changed the subject, pointed to Voldemort's bald head, and motioned him to tell him what happened to his hair.

"When I left the Black Forest, a fire burned my hair, but that's a minor problem, isn't it?" said Voldemort.

"Yes, the company that produces fast smoothing hair products, their hair growth products are also good, you can try it."

Old Tom said, pointing to his thinning hair, "When I was young, I used their products all the time, but when I am old, these things are not interesting."

"That's why I'm here."

Taking the last sip of butterbeer, Voldemort said goodbye to old Tom, and walked across the bar to the small walled patio.

Take out your wand, count three bricks on top of the bin, then two across, and tap on it.

The brick wall began to roll, quickly revealing the archway within, and Voldemort stepped into the winding, endless cobbled streets.

The surrounding scenery changed instantly, the sunlight was projected on a stack of pewter pots, and the bottom of the pots just reflected the light on his face, which made him unable to resist raising his hand to cover it.

Staggering the light, the streets of Diagon Alley appeared in front of my eyes. In the shop windows on the left and right, various magical creatures and products fascinated Voldemort's eyes.

The remnant Voldemort has obviously experienced everything, and the current Voldemort also visited Diagon Alley in his memory, but how can that compare with being there?

"The magical Diagon Alley, I like it here."

After setting foot on the street, after wandering curiously for a while, Voldemort walked into a barber shop, "Hair growth treatment, grow to the back, make it softer."

Looking at the business content engraved on the strings of wooden signs, Voldemort sat on the chair and said.

"As you wish."

The barber said, and began to operate:
First he waved his wand, picked out a puddle of viscous green potion from a bubbling cauldron, and spread it evenly on Voldemort's bald head.

After waiting for an hour, Voldemort felt his scalp itching and burning.

Then the hair started to grow like crazy, and the barber rushed to apply another potion - but in the meantime, the hair had grown to the ground.

"It was a really bad experience."

Voldemort, who was wrapped in hair, simply gave up control of his body, letting Quirrell face everything.

"Hurry up and deal with it, you bloody bastard."

As soon as he got the right to use his body, Quirrell began to scold—he obviously didn't have a good temper like Voldemort.

"Sorry, I'll take care of it right away."

The barber spoke in a hurry, waved his wand, the scissors and comb flew up, and began to cut the long hair short.

This process was very fast, but then I used a speed smoothing agent, which was delayed for a long time.

Before dark, it was finally over, and Voldemort was once again in control of the body.

Looking at himself in the mirror, with long black hair reaching his waist and a calm face, Voldemort nodded in satisfaction.

"How much?" he asked.

"9 silver Sickles for haircut, 1 silver Sickles for hair growth treatment 13 Gold Galleon, 16 silver Sickles for smoothing..."

After the barber finished speaking, he began to stand still in a daze until Voldemort felt that maybe he should wake him up, and the guy recovered from his sluggishness.

"A total of 2 Gold Galleons and 4 Silver Sickles."

Looking at the clerk with a sincere face and no sense of joking at all, Voldemort finally understood why he was in a daze just now - but the problem is, the daze didn't bring good results.

"If I'm not mistaken, it should be three Galleons in gold and four Sickles in silver." Voldemort said as he paid the bill.

"Ah... did you make a mistake again?"

The barber murmured, reaching out to take the coin from Voldemort.

And his murmur really made Voldemort feel that it is necessary to popularize some Muggle supplies in the wizarding world.

For example, the person in front of me urgently needs a calculator.

　Finally entered the familiar plot, the preparation is very tiring... It should have persuaded many people to quit, but...

　　Hey... not much to say, I hope the students who can persist in seeing here, please count the votes.

　　
　
(End of this chapter)