Hogwarts: I'm really not the third Dark Lord

Sunday, Defense Against the Dark Arts office.

Quirinus Quirrell carefully closed the door tightly.

The fire burned brightly in the fireplace in the corner, making a low crackling sound.

Next to the fireplace was a small desk, with a walnut chair behind it.

Quirrell walked around a huge empty iron cage and trudged through piles of herbs and bandages.

People who don't know would think this is the office of the Potions or Herbs professor, but this is indeed Quirrell's office, where he teaches Defense Against the Dark Arts.

Quirrell came to the window and looked out.

The cheers and shouts of students could be heard faintly in the distance. It seemed that the Gryffindor Quidditch team was selecting new players.

Quirrell listened for a while and then closed the layers of dark purple and gold curtains.

The room suddenly became dark, and with the ever-present smell of garlic, it was difficult for a normal person to stay here for even half a minute.

But the next moment, there was a knock on the door.

Quirrell sat down behind the table and drummed his fingers on the table.

"Please come in."

The door was pushed open, and a little boy with a fat, rosy complexion walked in. As soon as he entered, he was retched by the smell in the room.

"Good morning, Neville," Quirrell said.

Surprisingly, he no longer stuttered, and his eyes no longer evaded.

Neville stood there for a while, and after he was completely accustomed to the smell, he came closer.

"Good morning, Professor."

He said, "As you said... I can come to you at any time."

Yesterday he received a letter from home. Grandma told him that she would consider taking him to St. Mungo's for Christmas.

But Christmas is still more than three months away!

When he thought of what Quirrell had promised to help him regain his "forgotten potential" and help him achieve glory, the boy's heart was filled with fire.

Especially after seeing the outstanding performance of my friends, these three months undoubtedly seem too long...

Quirrell saw the eagerness and anticipation in the boy's eyes, and he smiled: "Of course, my child."

"By the way, did you tell anyone else when you came here?"

"No……"

Neville suddenly felt something was wrong, and he saw in horror that Quirrell raised his wand and pointed it at him.

"Passed out!"

A red light flashed, and the next moment, Neville fell to the ground unconscious.

Quirrell waved his wand again, and Neville seemed to be tied to an invisible rope and floating in the air.

Quirrell cleared the table and placed Neville on the table.

Staring at the face that still showed fear and confusion, Quirrell whispered to himself.

"Master, I don't understand why you chose this child?"

A low hiss sounded behind his head: "Do you feel confused? Quirrell, do you think the Dark Lord is confused?"

On Quirrell's face, another face seemed to appear, a face without a nose and hair, like a two-hole socket.

More than ten years ago, this face frightened countless wizards, and they still dare not say his name out loud - Voldemort!

Quirrell's expression immediately became panicked: "I...I have never thought about it this way, Master, I just...just..."

"It's okay, Quirrell." Voldemort whispered, "The Dark Lord is happy to answer the servants' questions... Do you think I should go find Harry Potter first?"

"Yes..." Quirrell said, "If it is your order, I can bring Harry Potter to you at any time..."

"Stupid!" Voldemort scolded, "Do you really think you can kidnap Harry Potter from under the hooked nose of that Muggle-loving man?"

Quirrell was surprised: "You mean..."

Voldemort chuckled: "Still the same, Dumbledore, never pay attention to other people... You want to use the Sorcerer's Stone and Harry Potter to lure me out? What a good idea..."

"Master, are you saying that he already knew that you had returned to Hogwarts?"

"Of course, I'm sure he has already suspected you."

Quirrell's face suddenly turned pale: "Master, do we want to escape?"

"No need." Voldemort sneered, "Dumbledore is treating you and me as a test for our great savior, Harry Potter! How can we let him down?"

He didn't say a word - if he encountered danger, he could give up Quirrell and escape at any time, and Dumbledore wouldn't even think of stopping him!

Overwhelmed by the confidence in Voldemort's words, Quirrell gradually calmed down: "Master, you asked me to bring this boy over, do you want to kill him?"

"Of course not." Voldemort looked at Neville, "He is much more useful alive than dead..."

Quirrell was shocked: "Could it be that... he really has great potential that has not been discovered?"

"No -" Voldemort said, "Even if his head is cured, he will be an ordinary little wizard at best..."

"His greatest advantage is that he has two extraordinary good friends..."

"In order to defeat me, Dumbledore has never set his sights on anyone other than the savior. I am different from him. Defeating Dumbledore has never been my goal..."

……

As far as Jerry was concerned, apart from Malfoy falling out of bed and getting a bruise on his face, there wasn't much that happened this weekend worth mentioning.

Malfoy and Harry went to the Quidditch team trials together, and I don't know when they got together.

Not interested in Quidditch, and without all kinds of entertainment equipment, the only thing Jerry could do was go to the library and read.

In the library, as expected, I saw Hermione again.

This time the books beside her changed again, from the one about Transfiguration last time to "Habits of Various Magical Animals", "Dangerous Magical Beasts" and other books that Hagrid should like.

Was she... led astray by Hagrid?

Jerry couldn't help but have a picture in his mind: Hermione holding a whip in her hand, followed by a big cat, patrolling around the Forbidden Forest, whoever dared to disobey would be whipped twice...

No, no, no... Jerry shook his head hastily to eliminate this horrifying scene from his mind.

Judging from the time, she probably hasn't met Hagrid yet.

Maybe he just has a wide range of knowledge. You know, Hermione can read even the boring history of magic with gusto.

Looking at Hermione who was taking notes with a solemn expression, Jerry hesitated whether to go up and refresh some mental points.

It's not that he just stared at a sheep, but if it were another girl, he was worried that they wouldn't reject him at all. He couldn't let him go to Professor McGonagall, right?

However, thinking about the situation when Hermione pointed her wand at him on Friday, Jerry reluctantly gave up the idea.

Let's talk about it later, when she has forgotten about it.