Hogwarts: I am Voldemort

"Look, I said he can't die."

Faced with Voldemort's joking words, Dumbledore did not give him a good look.

Voldemort shrugged, not caring about Dumbledore's indifference, and just waited quietly.

Not long after, the silver phoenix returned, rushed towards Dumbledore, and merged into his body.

"Master Flamel has agreed, can you treat him now?" Dumbledore asked.

"Wait until we finish talking, Albus, don't rush this moment." Voldemort said, glancing at Zabini, "Since this child dares to be a brave informer, he should have the courage to face the consequences. This is a test."

Dumbledore glanced at Voldemort angrily, suppressed the anger in his heart and said: "Meet in the lobby on the first floor, Tom, let's go there."

"Okay, I've been looking forward to it for a long time." Voldemort said excitedly, and then walked quickly to the first floor.

Dumbledore still continued to perform magical medical treatment on Zabini. Although the effect was average, it was better than nothing.

Holding the child in one hand and holding his wand in the other, he followed Voldemort.

"What do you want to talk to him about? Or immortality?" Dumbledore asked from behind.

"Otherwise?" Voldemort said without turning his head.

"You shouldn't be able to maintain your body for long." Dumbledore asked again.

Voldemort paused and looked back at Dumbledore: "Test me?"

Dumbledore shrugged and said nothing.

Voldemort curled his lips and continued to move forward.

"How many Horcruxes do you have?" Dumbledore asked.

"Ninety-nine." Voldemort replied without hesitation.

Dumbledore rolled his eyes and gave up the idea of ​​communicating.

As a student, I really tell lies when I open my mouth.

"Master Flamel."

As soon as he walked into the lobby on the first floor, Voldemort saw a pale, smiling old man with silver hair.

Of course he knew that this was Nick Merle, so he called out enthusiastically and took the initiative to greet him.

Hug, kiss, Voldemort's movements were very gentle - he was afraid of breaking this 600-year-old guy.

"What should I call you?" Master Flamel asked with a smile, letting go of the enthusiastic Voldemort.

"Voldemort, I like to be called that, Master Flamel."

After Voldemort finished speaking, he waved his wand lightly, and the two stone sculptures turned into two chairs, stopping behind him and Master Flamel.

When he waved his wand, McGonagall and Flitwick were shocked as if they were electrocuted. However, Dumbledore was relatively calm and did not overreact.

"Sit down and say, Master Flamel, I have many questions to ask you."

Voldemort said as he sat down on the chair first.

Nico Flamel sat down with a smile, looked at Zabini naturally, and said, "Can you save that child from pain first?"

"certainly."

Voldemort said without hesitation, then waved his wand, and the wound on Zabini's neck disappeared.

Dumbledore checked and asked him to go back to the Slytherin common room first.

"What do you want to ask?" Master Flamel looked at Voldemort and asked, "About longevity?"

"Yes, Master, I look forward to the same thing happening to you." Voldemort said excitedly waving his hands.

On the side, Dumbledore also waved his wand, and several chairs appeared behind him, McGonagall and others.

Voldemort glanced at him, but also showed no reaction.

"I seldom meddle in other people's business, Voldemort. This is the secret of longevity." Master Flamel said with great humor.

He seemed completely unafraid of Voldemort, which wasn't surprising, he was ready to face death.

"You are very humorous, Master, but this time you are not being nosy?" Voldemort asked with a smile.

"Do a friend a small favor, Voldemort. I don't think this will make you raise your wand against me." Master Flamel waved his hand nonchalantly.

It must be said that he has a free and easy temperament that even Dumbledore does not possess. Even Voldemort couldn't help but think of making friends with him.

"Of course I won't raise my wand to you, Master. I want to ask about the secret of the Philosopher's Stone. Can it allow me to have a real body and live as long as you?" Voldemort asked expectantly.

Master Flamel did not answer in a hurry. He first reached out and touched Voldemort's shoulder, and said with curiosity in his eyes: "This is the first time I have seen a body made of magic. How long can it last?"

"A few years, or less," Voldemort replied.

"Is it okay to just need soul and magic power?" Master Flamel continued to ask.

Voldemort looked into his eyes and saw no disgust in them.

It feels like this master doesn't mind killing.

"There is also a special ceremony that needs to be done in front of the statue of the ancestor Slytherin. I think he also tried this method to be reborn, but it obviously didn't last long." Voldemort explained patiently.

"The magic of magic still fascinates me even after living for more than six hundred years." Master Flamel sighed.

Voldemort smiled, nodded in agreement, and then looked at Master Flamel with probing eyes, hoping that he could answer his question.

"I don't think so." Master Flamel said seriously, "The magic potion made from the magic stone can only extend your life, and it requires a high price."

"For example?" Voldemort raised his eyebrows.

"The decline of magic, Voldemort, is the inevitable result, and this is why I turned completely to alchemy."

Master Flamel said, took out his wand and used an illumination spell.

The light spot was thrown out of the wand and soon dimmed and disappeared.

Voldemort frowned slightly. If this was true, then he really had no expectations for the Philosopher's Stone.

What’s the point of immortality if you lose your magic power?

"You are closing your brain, Master Flamel." Voldemort said, "I need to confirm the authenticity of your words. If it is convenient, I would like..."

"I didn't seal him off." The seriousness on Master Flamel's face disappeared, and he smiled again. "This is also one of the disadvantages of using magic for a long time. My thoughts have become simpler, and thinking is all about me. It gets tough.”

Voldemort was surprised. He approached Master Flamel and used all his telekinesis.

Sure enough, a trace of helplessness came, very weak, like the thoughts of a baby.

"No wonder you speak so slowly. I thought you did it on purpose." Voldemort retracted his forward leaning body and said.

“There’s no such thing as longevity without paying a price, but I guess you can ask Barry Winkle,” Master Flamel said with a smile.

Barry Winkle, Voldemort had something of an impression on him - in fact, he had an impression on everyone who lived a long life.

This old gentleman also held a grand and fashionable party for his 755th birthday last year.

A typical person with an old heart, Voldemort felt that he really needed to meet him.