Harry Potter: The Legend of Demigods

"Mr. Wilson, are you too worried? I know you are a genius in any magic, even dark magic. I don't believe you have never used it at all. I remember that there seemed to be an area in the Forbidden Forest that was set on fire. Burn it..." Quirrell said softly, as if he was guiding Anakin towards the unknown abyss.

Anakin felt his heart turbulent and hesitant. He knew that Quirrell's purpose was not only to teach black magic, but also to test his mind, hoping to control him with black magic. But at the same time, curiosity and desire for dark magic ignited in his heart, driving him to take a step forward.

"I..." Anakin gritted his teeth. "Okay, I'm willing to give it a try."

Quirrell smiled slightly, with a strange light shining in his eyes. He reached out and patted Anakin's shoulder, as if conveying a mysterious and encouraging force.

"Mr. Wilson, your courage is commendable. Not everything about black magic is evil. It is also a unique art with the power to explore unknown areas. It is part of magic and, like other magic, can be used to shape the world. , heal wounds, and even create miracles... Now, let's try it out and see how far you have learned."

Quirrell led Anakin to an open space, and then ordered Anakin: "Mr. Wilson, release the fire, let me see how far you have learned." Quirrell watched Anakin's performance, with a trace of his face. expect.

Anakin raised his wand and pointed it at the clearing in front of him. However, Anakin still hesitated. He was afraid that Quirrell would have a sudden idea, be exposed early or do something to him.

This would be the end of Anakin's game.

Quirrell seemed to be aware of Anakin's inner turmoil, smiled and whispered in a bewitching tone: "Mr. Wilson, black magic is also an art, and the key lies in mastering it. Release your power and let it become your weapon. "

A trace of darkness appeared in Anakin's eyes. Anakin took a deep breath, and the inner conflicts were immediately forgotten, but he always felt that something was wrong. Anakin waved his wand, and a ball of red fire shot out from the tip of the wand and began to burn on the ground.

The fire expanded rapidly, and in a blink of an eye, the fire was one person high, and it was still growing. The flames suddenly shot toward Quirrell...

It’s over! Anakin thought, feeling the urge to kill him head on.

Burning Voldemort with fire? I'm afraid he died too quickly!

Anakin quickly pointed his wand at the fierce fire, "The curse is over!" Unfortunately, Anakin was too late. He seemed to have seen the flames burning Quirrell's body, and then Voldemort appeared in person to extinguish the flames, and became furious and killed himself. Tortured to death. Memories of his body flashed before Anakin's eyes like a revolving lantern.

However, just when the flame was about to touch Quirrell, Li Huo seemed to hit an invisible wall and stagnated, then disappeared.

"Mr. Wilson, your magic needs to be more proficient." A voice came from behind Quirrell's head, the voice was weak and evil. Anakin noticed that Quirrell's lips were also pursed tightly. It was obvious that this was not Quirrell's voice.

It’s over! Anakin's heart sank and he shuddered. Voldemort appeared...

"Excuse me, sir, are you..." Anakin said warily, considering every word, for fear of being killed if he said the wrong thing.

"Mr. Wilson, haven't you guessed it yet?" the voice said, "I thought you would have guessed it after I tutored you for so long..."

"You are You-Know-Who, aren't you." Although Anakin used questions, his voice was very sure. His hand reached into his robes and held the wand tightly as if it was the only support.

"Quirrell, take off the hood. I want to talk to him, face to face." Voldemort said, his voice sharp as a knife, cutting through the silence of the night sky.

"Master, your strength has not recovered yet!"

"I still have this little strength..." Voldemort seemed a little impatient. Quirrell raised his hand and took off the scarf from his head. The big scarf fell down, and Quirrell's exposed head looked surprisingly small. Then, he slowly turned around.

Where the back of Quirrell's head should have been, there was a face. The color of the face was as dead as chalk, with bright red eyes and two slender nostrils like snakes underneath.

Voldemort smiled slightly, turning his already terrifying face into something even weirder and uglier. His eyes flashed with cunning, and he whispered: "Yes, Mr. Wilson. I am what you call Voldemort. Or, you can call me the Dark Lord, or...Master."

"The Dark Lord..." Anakin murmured in a low voice. His hand held the wand tightly, and there was an inexplicable throbbing in his heart. A trace of darkness crept into his eyes, making his pupils even darker.

Voldemort smiled slightly, his eyes flashing blood red. "Yes, Mr. Wilson. I am Voldemort, the Dark Lord. Everything you have learned under me is to make you better serve me."

Anakin felt a chill in his back. Anakin knew Voldemort wanted him to join his Death Eaters, but he didn't know it would come so soon, or that he would want to show up at this time. Anakin felt suffocated, knowing that now he could either join in, or he would face endless pain.

"Why choose me?" Anakin forced himself to stay calm, trying to delay time and find a glimmer of hope.

If I go all out and use the Fire Charm, will Professor Dumbledore find out?

Anakin smiled bitterly in his heart, not to mention whether Voldemort extinguished the fire as before, he could probably kill me millions of times before Professor Dumbledore arrived.

Voldemort smiled and did not answer Anakin's question, his eyes showing a kind of superior indifference. He slowly walked to Anakin's side, stopped, and looked down at Anakin.

"Why did you choose you?" Voldemort's voice was low and cold, trying to seduce Anakin: "Because you are a special being, Mr. Wilson. There is a power in you that needs to be guided and awakened. I believe you can become me. As your right-hand man, we can change the world together. If you decide to join the Death Eaters now, I can even grant you the Death Eater Mark as an exception."

Anakin felt a chill at his back and his heartbeat quickened. He wanted to avoid it, but Voldemort's gaze seemed to be locked on his soul, making it impossible for him to escape.

"You have the right to choose, Mr. Wilson. Become my Death Eater, and you will receive incomparable power and glory. If you refuse, you will face endless pain and destruction." Voldemort said slowly, seeming to have some miraculous grace. ...

Anakin gritted his teeth, his fingers tightening around his wand, hesitant. He knew this was a crucial decision, one that would likely change his life.

"What are your options, Mr. Wilson?" Voldemort asked, his eyes flashing with arrogance and disdain.