A Certain Magical Hogwarts

Chapter 494 You dare call yourself Tom?

In the past thirteen years, Voldemort has only gone out a handful of times, but the only time he came closest to success was with Quirrell.

They did quite a lot that time. They attacked Gringotts, slaughtered centaurs, took Quirrell to Hogwarts to become a professor… bravely ventured into forbidden territory, and outwitted Dumbledore. (In my opinion)

But after such constant abuse, Quirrell's body was finally ruined.

Of course, Quirrell could have lived for a while longer, but he was too stupid to even figure out the answer to such a simple puzzle.

idiot!

He deserved to be poisoned!

When Voldemort possessed Quirrell's body, he also learned a little about the current situation of the Death Eaters.

Apart from a few who were imprisoned in Azkaban, most of them were free. Yet no one dared to come looking for him.

This is why Voldemort preferred to use Quirrell and be beaten by students every day rather than gather his old followers.

His strength has greatly diminished, making it impossible for him to discern who is sincere and who has already surrendered!

Being attacked by students, although it hurt a little, well... it hurt a lot, but I'm safe in the end.

Just bear with it, and it will pass.

He's endured it for over a decade, what else can't he endure?

The current Voldemort habitually doubts the loyalty of most Death Eaters.

He was certainly afraid that Wormtail might turn into Dumbledore's spy and deliberately lure him out.

Dumbledore's favorite thing to do was fishing.

Voldemort believed he knew the Headmaster perfectly, and that the despicable Dumbledore was like a naked man before him... a complete and utter understanding!

"No!" Peter trembled and fell to his knees with a thud.

"Master, I killed the Potters, Black has escaped from prison again, and I've been discovered... They won't let me go."

"If I hadn't run fast, I would have been killed by Stark."

Peter raised his severed left hand, stood up again, and quickly took off his pants, wanting Voldemort to examine his groin injury up close.

While we're at it, we can treat him and relieve his pain.

"Alright..." Voldemort interrupted impatiently. "Stark... of course you're no match for him."

"You know Stark too?" Peter asked tremblingly.

"I know him. I've been missing that kid more and more these past few years," Voldemort said through gritted teeth.

Stark appeared during the Gringotts incident and the massacre of centaurs, and even stopped him.

Finally, he killed his precious basilisk and even saved Potter from the Forbidden Zone.

Voldemort's hatred for him was second only to that for Harry Potter and Dumbledore!

"No wonder you came to find me; you were being chased so much that you had no choice."

"No... Master, I am truly your most loyal servant!" Peter tried to explain. "No one in this world is more loyal than me."

Voldemort laughed mockingly. But he didn't pursue the matter.

This is his darkest period.

Having waited for so many years, he had long since given up hope that any Death Eater would care about his condition.

Even if the insect tail is unworthy, it is still the only servant that comes to our door.

That alone is enough to warrant a reward!

And because of the Potters, he really couldn't be Dumbledore's spy... he was one of their own.

Absolutely!

Voldemort's voice suddenly turned stern.

How did you know I was hiding here?

"There's a long-standing rumor that you wandered in Albania," Peter explained. "I've been following that story."

"The mice in the forest told me that there is a place deep in the forest that they dare not approach."

Many small animals like them were possessed by a dark shadow and then died…

"Yes, it's me..." Voldemort chuckled sharply. "Looks like your little friend is still somewhat useful."

Suddenly, the grass trembled, and there was the sound of an animal sliding by.

Peter trembled all over, feeling something slide down his thigh and onto his body. But he dared not move, nor dared he pull up his pants.

"Alright, turn around now, Wormtail, my loyal servant." Voldemort's voice echoed in my ears.

Peter turned his head away, terrified, and collapsed to the ground.

A long green snake was coiled on his shoulder.

On the head of that long snake was a distorted face:

His face was as white as chalk, his eyes were bright red, and below them were two long, thin nostrils like snakes.

Voldemort's state gave Peter a sense of evil, like a mixture of soul and darkness.

This boundless darkness terrified Peter. It wasn't just fear that gripped him; it was something far more terrifying.

Peter trembled.

"Don't be afraid, I've lost my power and can only attach myself to these lowly creatures," Voldemort whispered.

"But they can't withstand my power, and they'll die soon... You've come at the right time, you're a wizard, you won't die."

Peter remembered Quirrell; Harry had told Ron more than once that Voldemort was attached to the back of his head.

Then... Quirrell died.

The thought sent a chill down Peter's spine, and his gaze turned fearful and uneasy.

"What, you don't want to?" Voldemort whispered. "You just said you were my loyal servant."

"Help me, and the Dark Lord will reward you!"

"No... Master." Peter sobbed, tears mingling with the rain. "Most wizards believe I died thirteen years ago."

Fudge still thinks so.

If I suddenly appear in a conspicuous place, people will notice, and it might attract Dumbledore's attention.

"That makes some sense," Voldemort sneered. He had never intended to use Peter in the first place.

Such a decent servant shouldn't die so soon.

He suddenly shouted sharply, "What's in your pocket?"

"It's...it's the wizard I caught on the road." Peter took the groundhog out and turned her back into Bertha.

"I remember who this is. It's Bertha Jorkins. She was two years ahead of me in school."

At this moment, Peter's memory suddenly improved.

He called out, "After Bertha graduated, it seems she went to the Ministry of Magic. You can use her."

Voldemort snorted and said softly, "At least you're not entirely useless."

Perhaps I can extract some interesting information from it.

"However..." Voldemort drawled, "the disappearance of a Ministry of Magic official is troublesome... especially one from Albania."

You took her away, and now who will know?!

"Nobody knows, but..." Peter said, head bowed.

"I took her from the Prancing Horse Hotel. The guests and the owner there will probably guess."

"Go! Kill all the wizards in the inn," Voldemort said coldly.

"But with my abilities..."

"Of course you can't," Voldemort sneered. "There's a swarm of Voldemort bats all the way west from here."

You lure those animals to the inn, creating the illusion of accidental deaths. Groundbats attacking Muggles and wizards are not uncommon.

No one will suspect us.

"I...I understand," Peter said, head bowed.

Voldemort ignored Wormtail and started thinking about the inn.

In fact, he and that boss were old acquaintances.

Fifty years ago, he came here looking for the Ravenclaw crown and encountered that man.

He has provided a lot of help over the years, especially by deliberately spreading the news that Voldemort is still alive and in the Albanian forest.

The boss may have just been talking nonsense, but that's what attracted Quirrell and Peter.

Indeed, fate has its own way of doing things!

Now that Peter has arrived, the hotel is no longer needed.

You can only blame the boss; why did you have to be named Tom of all names?

You dare call yourself Tom?!

Voldemort looked up at the sky and saw large, dark clouds gathering, like wisps of smoke.

Jupiter sleeps deep within.

He gazed at the star with deep eyes.

The star was very close to the horizon at that moment, piercing through a thick layer of fog that gave it a terrifying red hue.

For no apparent reason, Voldemort recalled something Professor Cassandra Vabraski, his Divination teacher, had said when he was at Hogwarts:

Jupiter represents resurgence.

Clearly, even the stars are indicating that he is about to return!

However, Voldemort was unaware that he was not the only one gazing upon this star.

Thousands of miles away, a boy looked up in confusion at the reddish Jupiter.

Lost in thought.

A hooded wizard... slowly emerged in the distance.

……

……

(Please vote with recommendations and monthly passes at the end of the month. Thank you all!)

(End of this chapter)