Hogwarts: I am Voldemort

"Professor McGonagall, long time no see."

Coming out of the fireplace where the green flames lingered, Voldemort forced a smile and said - he had decided not to use this method of traveling again.

"Quirrell, you look a little embarrassed."

Professor McGonagall raised her head from her desk, her eyes looking at him through the upper edges of her lenses, smiling casually like a teacher staring at his student who made a mistake, "But the clothes are good."

"Thanks."

He patted the dust on his body, but found that it was difficult to clean it off. In the end, he simply used the silent spell and used it once [Clean up new].

"The Silent Spell is great. It seems like the Black Forest has made some progress for you."

After Professor McGonagall finished speaking, she looked at the documents on the table - as the vice-principal, she was very busy during the period before the start of school - and said at the same time, "You know the location of the principal's office, and the password is: toffee finger cakes. "

"Okay, Professor." Voldemort responded and left Professor McGonagall's office.

Walking in the stairwell of Hogwarts, the memory deep in the soul slowly awakens, and there is even a sense of joy - that is the memory belonging to the remnant soul of Voldemort. He obviously likes it here.

Not long after, Voldemort came to the corridor on the eighth floor and stood in front of the gargoyle.

"Then, I leave it to you," Voldemort said to Quirrell's soul, and then abdicated.

Quirrell's soul took the initiative, while Voldemort's soul was hidden in the rich blood curse - but he did not choose to sleep, but secretly peeked at everything outside.

"Toffee finger cakes." Quirrell puffed up his chest and then said to the stone beast.

"boom."

The stone beast jumped to the side, and the wall behind it cracked open, revealing a spiral staircase that slowly moved upward.

"Quirrell?" Headmaster Dumbledore's voice came from deep down the stairs.

"Yes, principal, it's me." Quirrell said calmly.

"Come up, I've prepared finger cakes for you."

"thank you."

Quirrell said as he went up the spiral staircase and walked into a spacious and beautiful circular room.

Facing the back of the stairs, there was a huge table with long thin legs, and Dumbledore with silver hair was sitting behind it, but he was looking at something and not looking at Quirrell.

"Eat some finger cakes, I still have to finish reading this section." He said without looking up.

"Okay, principal, you are busy first."

Quirrell responded, looking curiously around the room.

The most eye-catching thing was definitely the row of strange silverware on the table. Through Quirrell's eyes, Voldemort saw the silver lighter, the gold watch, and the Sorting Hat behind Dumbledore.

But their eyes were quickly drawn to the information Dumbledore was viewing - it was a brochure, and it was obvious at a glance that it was used by Muggles, because the photos there would not move.

Quirrell took advantage of the opportunity while he was sitting down to take a quick glance - it was a hospital brochure for blood donation.

"Dong dong, dong dong..." Quirrell's heart beat rapidly.

"You're a little nervous." Dumbledore raised his head in surprise, then smiled kindly and said, "Bring some honey, it will help relieve stress."

As the Elder Wand was waved, a glass of honeydew appeared in front of Quirrell.

"Thank you... I don't know if I am ready for the Defense Against the Dark Arts class." Quirrell said, picking up the drink and taking a sip.

"You have been a Muggle Studies professor, which means you have teaching experience."

Dumbledore put the blood donation leaflet on the table and said comfortingly, "You have also gone to the Black Forest, which means you have practical experience, so... don't worry."

Quirrell forced out a nervous smile and quickly turned serious, as if he was preparing to face Dumbledore's interview questions.

"Don't worry, I just have a question I want to ask you."

Dumbledore picked up the flyer, raised it, and said, "As for the Muggle hospital, the issue of blood drawing - judging from this list, I must have taken the wrong relevant documents - what I want to say is, Muggle When a hospital draws blood, how much does it usually take?”

Quirrell's eyes widened in confusion, his eyes full of confusion: "Um... Principal, I think... I am interviewing for the Defense Against Dark Arts class this time, not..."

"Oh, you don't understand me."

Dumbledore leaned back for a moment, then smiled and said, "This is a personal question, not an interview."

"ah."

Quirrell suddenly understood, thought for a while, and said, "It's hard to say, it depends on the disease, but generally speaking, I like to smoke more."

"Why?" Dumbledore asked doubtfully.

"In order to confirm the condition and avoid rottenness." Quirrell explained, "They use blood tests to confirm the cause. The more directions they do, the more causes they will rule out. If no problem is found because they do less, When there is trouble in the end, it’s Luo Lan.”

Dumbledore nodded, frowned slightly, and asked: "The measurement of blood draw will not involve life safety, right?"

"Definitely not. They have clear rules and regulations, and they will be held responsible if anything goes wrong."

"Oh, how about drawing a lot of blood and making people weak?"

Quirrell raised his eyebrows in confusion, and after thinking for a while he said, "I don't know about that. I have never been to a Muggle hospital since I entered Hogwarts."

Dumbledore heard his last words, smiled at him and said, "I just went there once out of curiosity, but didn't do anything."

Quirrell smiled back and then asked: "The principal is asking these questions because there is some problem that needs to be solved at a Muggle hospital? Or is there some other situation?"

"It's a child." Dumbledore said. "He went to the Muggle hospital for a checkup and found out that he had symptoms of anemia. Of course, he is very thin, which may have something to do with it."

Quirrell shook his head, saying that he didn't quite understand this.

"Okay, you've cleared up most of my doubts."

Dumbledore seemed to be completely relieved, but the real situation was unknown, "Actually, I still think you are suitable for teaching Muggle Studies - this course, I have always encouraged looking for wizards from outside the wizarding world to become professors .”

"But I really lack interest in that course." Quirrell frowned and said with a hint of grievance.

"Of course, none of you have much interest in it."

Dumbledore said helplessly, and then seemed to suddenly remember something, "I heard about what happened at Old Tom's Bar, and it seems that you are braver than before."

Quirrell was stunned for a moment, and then realized that the so-called Old Tom's Bar should refer to the Leaky Cauldron Bar, and that incident...

"The curse of the vampire has made me a little nervous, and I have just returned to the wizarding world, and I haven't adapted well yet."

Quirrell explained somewhat eagerly, as if he didn't want that incident to affect Dumbledore's assessment of him.

"Don't be nervous, kid."

Dumbledore reassured, "It's not a mistake to be brave, and it's not something to be praised for when they gamble with your life."

Quirrell nodded, he thought so too.

Please give me some votes, the data is too miserable.