[HP] I won't do this Dark Lord

Book Title: [HP] I will not be the Dark Lord Author: No Blue Card

Copywriting of this article:

Tom Marvolo Riddle, who was good at black magic, pursued eternal life, and used Avada's [-] thoughts, but died under the weapon of an underage Hogwarts student.

But, never mind, he died experienced, he was born again.

There is also a magical existence that claims to be a system that can help him realize his dream.

He, the real son of destiny, will turn the tide against the wind this time and rule the world.

Of course, everything comes with a price.

The system that helped him put forward a small requirement, that is, it must successfully capture a woman.

He smiled contemptuously, woman?

After going back to the file several times, he tried to discuss with the system: Otherwise, another man is fine.

System: Don't dream, take strategy notes.

Tom Marvolo Riddle once wanted to change his name to Voldemort so that others would honorably call him the Dark Lord.

In the end, he became Voldemort Stockholm, known as Wife Slave by others.

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This article is full of villains, the heroine leads the villains, please do not make the heroine an author.

Author WB: No blue card text anymore

Search keywords: Protagonist: Voldemort, Fiona┃Supporting role: HP┃Others: HP

One sentence introduction: only neuropathy can defeat neuropathy

Conception: Caring for empty nesters

1. The first step in the strategy is to open the door and send warmth

Summer 1938 London

In an empty, rough, dimly lit small room, a tall boy sat upright on an unstable wooden chair.There was a curled-up book on his lap, but he wasn't reading it, and his black eyes were fixed on the window covered with years of dust and scale in front of him, as if thinking about something difficult. Solved puzzles.

The sound insulation of the room is not very good, there are always the sound of walking footsteps outside the wooden door with loose latches, and the sound of children shouting and laughing, but those running steps will always slow down as they pass through this room , The human language of communication was instantly suppressed to silence.

The room seemed to be split into an independent world, and the boy's calm expression exuded a strange atmosphere.

At this time, the door was knocked lightly twice, and a thin and tired woman opened the door, with a slightly uncomfortable expression, and said stiffly, "Tom? Someone is here to see you."

She turned sideways, revealing the man next to her.

The man is about 40 years old, with auburn hair and a neatly trimmed beard, his appearance should be correct, but the distorted nose affects the overall harmony.His demeanor is a bit refined, and his expression is gentle and smiling, which is easy to make people feel good about him.Wearing a fuchsia velvet suit, he was well-dressed-it's just that wearing a velvet suit in summer inevitably makes people feel a little weird.

The boy with his back to the door got up, and the calm expression on his face changed rapidly in the process of turning his head. When he finally faced the gaze of the man at the door, he had carved into perfect curiosity and alertness, just like every stranger who sees ordinary child.

The woman closed the door, and there were only two people, one big and one small, left in the room.

The man walked over to the motionless boy, smiled kindly, and showed goodwill in his blue eyes, "Hello, Tom, I'm Dumbledore, you can call me Professor Dumbledore."

Looking at the outstretched hand, the boy hesitated for a moment, then slowly held it.

He said, "Tom, Tom Riddle."

The only chair in the room was taken, so Dumbledore had to sit on the single plank bed. When he sat down, the bed board made a teeth-stinging "creak" sound.

Dumbledore smiled, and looked at the boy in front of him with examining eyes under his friendly mask.

This is a child who is out of tune with his environment.

Along the way, Dumbledore felt the poverty and depression of this orphanage. Although the management staff tried their best to give the children the best care, every child he saw was sloppy, restrained and rude.

Riddle was different.

The slightly curly black hair is as soft and lustrous as satin, the skin is pale but not dull, and the facial features are impeccably exquisite.From the appearance alone, there was a huge gap between him and those sallow and emaciated children. The uniform gray tunic in the orphanage looked like a formal dress on him.

However, his still calm eyes despite the embarrassment, and his upright and elegant demeanor simply sitting there made him not only different from the children in the orphanage, but also the same age as he had seen—even older. Among the students, they are all outstanding.

Perhaps—his parentage was extraordinary, perhaps from some pure-blood family?

Dumbledore guessed based on the information he had inquired before, but the surname Riddle did not belong to any famous family or wizard he knew.

"Hello, Dumbledore—professor?" Riddle seemed a little confused, but also a little wary, and asked tentatively, "Are you a doctor in a madhouse?"

Dumbledore knew why he said that. Muggles were mostly not friendly to young wizards who showed magical talent, and the terrible silence was born in such an environment.

He smiled and said, "No, I'm a professor in the school."

"School?"

"School of magic - teaching little wizards like you how to work magic."

Riddle opened his eyes wide in disbelief, which finally made him look a little boyish for his age.

Leaning forward excitedly, he said eagerly, "So—I'm not weird, am I? There are a lot of people like me out there, right? Mine—always when I'm being bullied Isn't the ability to explode uncontrollably from time to time the curse of the devil?"

Dumbledore patted him on the shoulder reassuringly, and his voice was softer, "Of course, that's your talent, a talent unique to wizards." After a pause, he looked into Riddle's eyes again and said with a smile : "It's just that before they learn to control them, they will be a little disobedient."

Riddle didn't avoid Dumbledore's gaze, as if he didn't notice his secret temptation, looked directly at him and nodded, and said quickly: "Yes, although Billy always grabs my bread, I swear I just wanted to teach him a lesson, and his little rabbit was hanging off the roof. Mrs. Cole always said I put a spell on Amy and Dennis, but we were just in danger exploring a cave, They were scared and I brought them out!"

A faint blush appeared on his pale face, his slender fingers were unconsciously tangle together, Riddle seemed to feel panic and guilt for the abnormal events he had caused.

Dumbledore's voice became more gentle, "It's okay, some little wizards' magical riots can cause more serious and terrible consequences, and you can only be regarded as small troubles. When you go to Hogwarts, everything will be fine of."

The beautiful description made Riddle yearn for it, and he muttered to himself with longing on his face: "That would be great, I can't wait..."

Dumbledore explained to Riddle in detail how to go shopping in Diagon Alley and when to go to King's Cross Station for school. When Dumbledore said that he could go to Diagon Alley with him, Riddle hesitated.

He said apprehensively, "No, sir, I want to go alone—I mean, I'm used to being alone, and it makes me feel relieved."

Dumbledore nodded understandingly, and reminded him in an accommodating tone, "Then you have to pay attention to safety, wizards are not all friendly - but I believe that your cleverness will let you know how to avoid trouble."

Having been praised, Riddle smiled happily but restrainedly.

The words were about the same, and the two shook hands and said goodbye.Standing at the door, Riddle watched as Dumbledore turned around the corner and smiled at him, then the figure disappeared behind the wall, and the sound of descending stairs unhurriedly sounded in the corridor.

As the footsteps gradually weakened, the smile on Riddle's face became weaker and weaker, like poured ink being slowly wiped away by invisible hands, leaving only a blank space in the end.

Just like before Dumbledore appeared.

Looking indifferently at the end of the corridor, Riddle turned and closed the door.

He sat back on the hard wooden chair, rubbed the envelope in his hand with some nostalgia, closed his eyes, and was just about to review the first fight with Dumbledore to check if there were any omissions, when he heard a crisp sound in his head. A "ding".

"Good morning, Mr. Riddle. The first greeting of the day is for you, so that you have a good mood; the first blessing is for you, I wish you a smooth day at work; the first wish is for you, I wish you happiness forever And warm."

Riddle: "..."

It is obviously a mechanized voice that is indistinguishable between men and women, but it is cadenced and full of emotion, as if it carries infinite sincerity and prayer.

However, when Riddle heard the voice, he couldn't help being irritable.

"Huh? Has Dumbledore already been here?" The straightforward stiff tone and lively tone combined into a strange voice, speaking directly in Riddle's conscious world, "It's a pity that I missed the historic meeting."

Riddle said calmly, "Because it's not morning."

"The mission hasn't officially started yet, and being late and leaving early isn't considered absenteeism." The voice said nonchalantly.

Riddle asked sharply, "Someone pays you?"

"you guess?"

After being the Dark Lord for decades, no one dared to speak to Riddle in such a serious way: "..." Calm down.

He's almost getting used to it, too.

As the Dark Lord, he was defeated by the savior he never looked down on