Hogwarts: I am Voldemort

August 13, 1992.

Malfoy Manor House.

"Professor, do you value Percy?" Draco asked curiously.

"Why do you say that?" Voldemort asked as he handed him a piece of chocolate.

"You teach him and give him rights, and if you don't do that..."

Draco was silent for a moment, took a bite of chocolate and said, "If you train him like you trained me, then he must also have learned the application of rights, right?"

"Yes," Voldemort admitted.

"Why?" Draco asked doubtfully, "Can't authority only be held in the hands of one person? Why are you teaching two people at the same time? Are you raising a gu?"

"Not really."

Voldemort sat behind the desk and looked at Draco.

"You represent pure-blood conservatives, Draco, your family, your friends, they are all conservative and Muggle-hating, do you understand?"

Draco nodded, of course he understood that everyone, including himself, hated Muggles.

"Percy is different from you. Although he also represents pure blood, he represents the faction of pure blood close to Muggles." Voldemort said, playing with the wand in his hand.

"We're on opposite sides, right?" Draco asked.

"Two opposites in pure blood, yes, Draco, that's it." Voldemort nodded.

"So we will be enemies in the future?" Draco frowned. Although he hated Weasley, he didn't hate Muggles to the same extent.

"For some special reason, Draco, I can't say more."

Voldemort thought and said carefully, "But I would like to have a representative among them, like your father, who can represent me to a certain extent."

"Professor Quirrell, I don't mean anything else, it's just... I don't think my father represents..." Draco didn't know what to say for a moment, but he did feel that the Malfoy family should not be the representative of Quirrell.

"This is the reason why I can't say it, Draco." Voldemort stood up and said to him, "If one day, you know something, when you see Percy again, maybe you can say something."

Draco had a question mark on his head, the professor's words were too convoluted.

"I'm also curious about his last choice, Draco, but when you know something..."

Voldemort said with a strange smile, "You know what a difficult choice he has to make."

…

October 18, 1992.

Hogwarts, Dark Arts Classroom.

Draco showed the same weird smile as his teacher. After two months, he finally knew why this smile was so weird.

"I don't think we have anything to talk about between us, Draco, please allow me to call you that."

Percy looked at the "kid" in front of him calmly and said, "But since you have something to say, then say it."

"I have the same teacher as you." Draco didn't care about Percy's somewhat contemptuous attitude. He was quite happy in his heart, "Professor Quirrell, he lives at my house during the summer vacation."

Percy's brows furrowed. He was confused about Professor Quirrell's life experience, but it was obvious that he had no way to know.

But the news he just received filled him with doubts.

Professor Quirrell, why do you live at the Malfoy house?

"Then what?" Percy asked.

"He also taught me a lot, I should say more, Percy, please allow me to call you that." Draco said.

"Professor Quirrell..."

After only saying four words, Percy fell silent. He didn't know what to ask and felt a little confused.

"It's not Quirrell, Percy. Our teacher is not Quirrell." Draco's smile became wider and weirder.

"Not Quirrell?" Percy didn't understand what he meant.

"I only found out a while ago, Percy, after Dumbledore went to see me."

Draco frowned, as if remembering some bad memory, but he quickly smiled again, "When I know who he is... please allow me to worship him."

Draco stood up, raised his right hand high, then lowered it to his waist and abdomen, and bowed deeply to the podium of the Defense Against Darkness classroom.

This scene made Percy even more confused.

As far as he knew, Professor Quirrell's relationship with the Malfoy family was not very good.

"He hit you," Percy said.

"I deserve it," Draco said, straightening his back, "and I'm proud of it."

Percy curled his lips, full of doubts. He remembered his teacher's teachings - never show timidity in front of your enemies, not even a little bit.

"He has some... grudges with you, yes, not much, but certainly," Draco said.

"Speak up if you have anything to say, Draco. If you keep talking around in circles with me, I think I will leave here." Percy said dissatisfied.

"Your uncle." Draco said, "Do you still have an impression of them?"

"Mafalda's father?" Percy asked confused. "He is an accountant living in the Muggle world. What does it have to do with this matter?"

Draco was stunned by what he said. He blinked and said, "I'm talking about those two dead uncles."

Percy's face darkened immediately.

The previous one was his mother's distant squib cousin, and his two biological uncles...

"Uncle Gideon and Fabian? They fought bravely against the Death Eaters, and Antonin Dolohov, who killed them, was in Azkaban." Percy yelled angrily, "Damn, Draco, what on earth are you going to say?"

Ron and Ginny had no impression of these two uncles at all. He was already five years old when the two uncles died, and he knew how sad his mother was.

In his childhood memory, there was still an image of his mother crying and fainting, and Draco's words brought back these bad memories for him.

"Calm down, Percy, I'm slowly penetrating you. If I tell you directly, I'm afraid..."

"Say what you have to say. If you don't say it again, I will really leave." Percy said, standing up.

"Okay, I'll say it, I'll say it right away."

Draco still had a smile on his face, which made Percy very unhappy, but he did want to know what Malfoy was going to say.

"Professor Quirrell, his body was just borrowed, and the borrowed..."

Draco paused briefly, his face suddenly turned serious, "It's the Dark Lord who is borrowing his body."

"Dark Demon..."

Percy didn't realize who the Dark Lord was at first, but before he could say all the names, he shuddered, "You said it was You-Know-Who?"

"We don't like to be called that, Percy. I suggest you call me that." Draco shrugged and said, "He has never had a very good temper, and honorifics are very important."

"Damn it, that's impossible."

Percy was so excited that his voice changed. He really couldn't accept this fact.

"I didn't expect that either, Percy, but it's true, we have a teacher in common, and he..."

"Shut up," Percy growled.

Draco smiled, curled his lips and left - he had completed the teacher's instructions and got what he wanted, and there was no point in staying.

And Percy...

Weasleys, who cares?