A ruined Hogwarts

There was silence in the dark and small office. The candlelight on the table flickered slightly, making the shadows of all the objects shake slightly. Suddenly, the candlelight shook violently, and two figures in black cloaks, one tall and one short, appeared out of thin air, casting deep black shadows on the ground.

"Ha, come back smoothly!" Owen said lively like a real child, and his retinas seemed to still have the spectacular scene of countless magic spells flying over like bright fireworks, this kind of graceful walking on the edge of death. The feeling made him tremble with fear and endless aftertaste.

Voldemort opened the box and inspected the items inside. He said expressionlessly: "You almost made a mistake, Owen."

"Oh, Professor, I didn't expect that guy had been controlled by the Imperius Curse a long time ago." Owen said innocently, twirling his wand with his fingers flexibly, "I didn't expect that when two people use it at close range at the same time, When the Imperius Curse controls a person, there will be a strange feeling between the two, as if they are also connected by the curse."

"That was so thrilling, I almost died. Or worse, I almost messed up the task you gave me, professor..." Owen pretended to look extremely guilty, but in his heart he seemed to be watching. The audience generally watched their slightly exaggerated performance coldly and jokingly.

Voldemort glanced at him with a half-smile and said softly: "I only care about the result. If you fail tonight, there is no doubt that you will be punished..."

Owen smiled politely and brightly, and put the wand back in his pocket.

"Of course, since you have completed my mission, I will not be stingy with rewards." Voldemort said, "I have always made clear rewards and punishments."

As he spoke, he looked at Owen with a strange expression, as if he was looking at a work that he was very satisfied with. It has to be said that Irving's performance tonight impressed him with admiration. His outstanding talent and outstanding character, his ability to remain calm in times of crisis and his ruthless nature, and he is even very good at making use of his harmless appearance and extraordinary charm, all of which made him stand out. Thinking of my former self.

If the subsequent matter of obtaining the Philosopher's Stone went well and he could successfully obtain a perfect body, he would not mind accepting a young Death Eater.

As the Dark Lord who once spread fear throughout the wizarding world and even makes wizards dare not mention his name to this day, Voldemort never considers whether he can control his subordinates. He is confident that with his unparalleled magic power, no one will ever dare to betray him.

In his opinion, even if Owen has gained extremely high black magic potential due to the Dark Guardian, it is impossible to surpass him. Even if this little guy can reach his current height through luck in dozens or hundreds of years, he will not stop climbing to the peak of magic. The immortal will always make progress, while mortals will eventually decay.

Of course, if things don't go well with the Philosopher's Stone, he doesn't mind leaving behind his current decaying body and getting a body that's more suitable for his temporary residence and easier to control, so that he can gain greater autonomy. By exerting stronger power, you can plan other means of resurrection. Irving must also be honored by this.

Voldemort looked thoughtfully at Owen, who looked innocent and harmless. After further integration with the Dark Lord Guard, this body was already useful... but it was not enough. What he needed was not a body. The unstable body still needs to be cultivated. Fortunately, Quirrell's body can still hold on for a while, and plans for Halloween have been put on the agenda.

"There will be no problem with my plan," Voldemort thought. Seeing that the Philosopher's Stone was already in sight, he began to look at Owen more towards his subordinates.

"It's very late now. I will give you your reward next time." He raised his pale right hand, patted Owen's shoulder lightly, and whispered with a smile: "Welcome to the realm of dark art. ."

"Thank you for your guidance, Professor." Owen responded calmly and politely, "Do you need my help with anything else next? For example, with medicines or magic stones?"

"All the medicinal materials I need can be found here, including those that are difficult for you to get." Voldemort patted the black box he snatched, "As for the matter of the Sorcerer's Stone, I have already arranged it, and you don't need to interfere. "

"Okay, Professor," Owen said.

"You need to go back and rest." Voldemort slowly sat down on the chair behind his desk, looking slightly pale and tired and closing his eyes.

Owen blinked and took off his black cloak. The cloak was already covered in dust from the previous fierce battle, and there were also black holes burned by the flames. He hung his cloak on his arm, narrowed his eyes and smiled and asked in a caring tone: "Professor, are you okay? Do you need some chocolate?"

Voldemort just waved his hand without opening his eyes.

Owen bowed gracefully to him, then left the office with light steps, closing the door gently.

Walking in the dark corridor, he suddenly threw the cloak on his arm into the air, pulled out his wand and pointed it at it and said: "Fire is blazing."

The cloak roared and ignited into a fireball in mid-air, illuminating the velvet curtains on the corridor wall and Owen's face with a bright smile. By the time the fireball landed on the ground, the cloak had burned out and turned into a black ashes.

"Haha, the great Dark Lord had a lot of fun. As a qualified subordinate, I should let this person who slipped through the compulsory education understand what it means to raise a tiger to cause trouble." He laughed in his heart.

"My previous plan was too conservative and boring, and too unambitious. As a magician, such an uncreative performance is not qualified at all. Sure enough, comfort makes people regress." Owen pressed his palms on himself In his heart, he murmured with a smile.

Since he liberated his dark side and reached peace with it, he found that everything was no different, it was just a simple step that could be taken at any time. After letting go of his inner shackles and seeing another world, he was able to face himself more freely and sincerely.

"Human beings are a collection of contradictions, opposite but unified." Owen thought to himself, and then sneered: "Of course, we still have to find a way to solve the problem of black magic. I don't want to end up becoming as dehumanizing as Voldemort... …”

Just as he rushed to the common room briskly, Voldemort opened his eyes and looked at the door closed by Owen. He raised his hand to rub his brow with a tired and weak expression.

He had had enough of this feeling of vulnerability and exhaustion!

With a slight wave of his right hand, the crucible used to brew the potion flew over from the shelf on the side. At the same time, the locked cabinet on the side also opened with a click, and a series of medicinal materials and bottles flew out from it.

He clicked on the black box he grabbed tonight again, and several potion ingredients of different shapes popped out, mixed with the previous medicinal ingredients.

Following the command of his fingers, various potion materials were cut, squeezed, and ground in the air, and finally lined up to jump into the crucible that was already burning red with flames. A series of operations that are dizzyingly complex, yet so smooth with an elegant rhythm. There is no doubt that Voldemort also has extremely high attainments in potions.

Soon, the potion in the crucible became as clear as water. He added a certain amount of unicorn blood into it. The potion danced lively in the crucible and turned into a bright silver color, with a trace of A weird dark red color.

"The only thing left of the elixir that can reshape the body is the Philosopher's Stone." Voldemort said lowly and coldly, "It's been too long, I've been waiting for too long... Quirrell, don't let me down."

He closed his eyes slightly, his body suddenly trembled, and then, a faint whimpering sound came from the office.