Hogwarts: I am Voldemort

Riddle has grown up and matured.

The cowardly him disappeared with each hungry and bruised night.

When the sun shines on his face again, he is different.

Smiling, proud, and inadvertently revealing a hint of contempt for mortals.

Yes, mortal.

This is the name in his heart for human beings other than himself.

Can you see through people's hearts?

Can you make objects move with your will?

Mortals, you have no idea of ​​my pride.

With this thought, his head held high and a smile appeared inadvertently.

Both proud and weird.

And since the outing, he has become the uncrowned king among the children in the orphanage.

The children gave him the most comfortable hut, and no one dared to provoke him anymore. His look made people frightened.

"I need a few cabinets, and yes, I want this to be my own private space," he told the children.

So, he had a roomful of cabinets patched together.

Life has never been the same since then, but everything ends too quickly.

One evening a few days later, Mrs. Cole brought a large man in a well-dressed burgundy velvet suit to his cabin at the corner of the third-floor landing.

This was the first visitor in his life. Out of courtesy, he greeted the other person with telepathy:

Anger, resentment, absent-mindedness.

Riddle couldn't understand why the big man came to visit me with these emotions. Was he provoking?

"Hello, Tom." The big man stretched out his hand to shake his hand.

But what Riddle felt in his heart was just to deal with these troubles quickly and go have a drink.

Am I trouble?

Riddle was very dissatisfied. He wanted to refuse the handshake for a while, but finally compromised - he had not fought with adults before and did not want to launch a leapfrog challenge.

The big man unceremoniously pulled up a chair and sat in front of him, which made him very uncomfortable.

The older kids who bullied him in the past would do the same thing.

"I am Professor Dumbledore."

"professor?"

Riddle repeated in surprise, then frowned, "Is it like a doctor? What are you doing here? Did she ask you to check me out?"

Riddle had every reason to believe that these orphans who dared not talk about him to his face were behind the scenes.

Put yourself in a mental hospital, like you did to Bill Stubbs, these cowardly and incompetent mortals.

He was completely angry. He ignored the big man's smile and didn't listen to his explanation. He fiercely ordered him to tell the truth - usually, when he relies on his ability to expose the other person's lies, he will be stern in the face of him. Will tell the truth.

But the big man was surprisingly calm. He mentioned a place called Hogwarts and mentioned magic.

Riddle was sure that he wasn't lying, not because of seeing it, but because of his ability - he could peer into people's hearts.

So, after a long silence, he asked the big man if his abilities came from magic.

This was the first time he tried to trust someone, and probably the only time in his life.

The big man asked him what his skills were, and he excitedly told all his secrets - Parseltongue, teleportation, and making people unlucky.

The last ability was something he had only recently developed.

Maybe it was there earlier, but he never noticed it, but recently...

If anyone displeases him, he will glare at the other person, and the other person will be struck by bad luck.

When he told this, he was extremely excited and excited.

At the end, he even went to the window to pray and thank him for being different.

He was so excited that he even forgot to use his telekinesis. After the big man once again confirmed that he was a wizard, he said forcefully: "Prove it to me."

The big man didn't agree to him immediately, but raised his eyebrows and asked him to call him professor.

Subtle changes in expression could not escape Riddle's eyes, let alone his request...

Damn it, you actually want me to surrender.

He instantly turned on his telepathy, wanting to peek into the other person's heart, and then...

Nothing at all.

For the first time in his life, the thoughts he peered into were—blank?

Riddle's expression instantly became stiff. He stood there in a daze for a moment, and then immediately changed his stance.

He stood up straight and said humbly and politely: "I'm sorry, sir, I mean - professor, can you let me see..."

Without saying anything, the tall man took out a wooden stick from his suit pocket and waved it nonchalantly at the dilapidated wardrobe in the corner.

"Huh~~~"

The flames instantly rose, setting the entire wardrobe on fire.

Riddle was overjoyed at first, and then jumped up in panic. He wanted to rush towards the flames - that was his wardrobe, and everything about him was in it - but the flames stopped him.

He turned around, ready to issue an angry question to the big man.

However, before he could accuse the tall man, the flames disappeared and the wardrobe remained intact.

He was fooled, but it didn't matter. His eyes immediately looked at the stick - it looked so delicate and magical.

Riddle eagerly asked if he could get such a magical stick, but the tall man ignored him.

He suddenly became stern and asked Riddle to open the shaking cabinet and take out an iron box.

The box contains a silver thimble, a harmonica that has lost its color, and a traveling reel.

"You have to return these things to their owners and apologize to them." The tall man put away his wand and said arrogantly, "I will know if you did it. I also want to warn you: Hogwarts will not tolerate this. An act of theft.”

In an instant, all the beauty and expectations disappeared.

Yes, these people only think that they are right, and just like those big kids, they give orders in a condescending manner.

They have no idea what these things represent, and they don't care about the difficulty you have in getting them.

They make rules, stand on the commanding heights of justice, and issue arbitrary orders to themselves in the shadows.

but.

Why do they?

A fist, or that stick stuck in your suit pocket?

If there is any difference between the two, the former may be more direct.

"Understood, sir."

Riddle clenched and unclenched his fists, and finally answered dryly, and all the good mood disappeared.

Just a few minutes ago, he thought he had stepped out of this world.

He will go to a world full of people like himself, to a world of extraordinary people.

But at this moment, he already knew:

Maybe it's magical enough, maybe there are countless extraordinary people there.

But other than that, there is no difference.

Fists determine life and death, ruthlessness determines status.

The rules that apply to Wu's Orphanage also apply to the world.

At the same time, it also includes that magical enough world.