Hogwarts: I am Voldemort

Dim street lights shine into the park, and two figures, one large and one small, are swinging side by side.

"Creak~~Creak~~"

The rusty rustling sound of the old swing echoed through the quiet park.

The tall figure looked up at the stars, as if thinking about something.

The short figure lowered his head and stared blankly at the letter unfolded in his hand.

Through the dim street lights, you can roughly see what's on it:

Dear Ms. Hermione Granger:

The Quidditch World Cup will be held on Monday night, and the time is almost here.

I urgently need your answer.

Whether it's a question about arranging your ticket, or that matter, you have to give me a clear answer.

Please give me the answer before sunrise the day after tomorrow at the latest.

Your best friend: Draco Malfoy.

The letter was short, but its content was urgent.

This is why our lovely Miss Granger comes out to play on the swing late at night.

"We can't go back to the past, Hermione, people change."

Voldemort looked away from the stars, turned to look at Hermione who asked him for help, and said softly.

"But you scare me."

Hermione woke up from her thoughts, turned to look at Voldemort and said.

A smile appeared on Voldemort's face and he said, "Because of Harry's broken hand?"

"It's partly that and a few others," said Hermione.

"For example?" Voldemort asked.

"For example, your Death Eaters, Professor, they don't seem to have changed. Of course they look a little kinder, but I mean ideas, you know." Hermione said.

Voldemort nodded, indicating that this was indeed the case.

He did not answer hastily, but waved his hand and used magic to make the swing swing bigger.

Hermione, on the other hand, stared at him, expecting him to give some different answers.

At worst, there should be some justification.

But no.

Voldemort just resumed his posture of looking up at the sky, as if he was thinking about this question, or didn't bother to answer it.

In short, Hermione failed to get anything she wanted from Voldemort.

"I must be responsible for the Falcon Burner, Professor, you know the responsibility I shoulder." Hermione couldn't help but speak up again.

"Well, what happens next?" Voldemort still raised his head and asked, "You choose to stand on the opposite side of me?"

"No, Professor, I was just thinking that there might be a third option." Hermione shook her head vigorously.

"Silence?" Voldemort finally lowered his head again and asked in confusion and a little surprise.

"Yes, Professor, maybe..."

"There are two attitudes to silence, Hermione."

Voldemort interrupted her and said, "Silent support or silent resistance, child, you should be able to see through these, right?"

Hermione was stunned for a moment, then pouted in embarrassment and lowered her head.

Voldemort smiled silently and reached out to touch Hermione's smooth hair.

"Change is not tourism. When traveling, whether you choose to go left or right, the scenery you see along the way is different, but it is still on the road."

Voldemort took back his hand, sighed softly and continued, "This is a change, my child, a change that will surely radiate to the entire wizarding world.

"Of course an ordinary wizard apprentice or ordinary wizard can remain silent, but a Falcon Burner cannot. Can you understand the difference?"

Hermione nodded and said in a low voice: "The former is an individual, while the latter represents the attitude of a group of people."

"Yes, a group of wizards."

Voldemort nodded and waved his hand again, making Hermione's swing swing wider.

"I told you a long time ago that when you enjoy rights, you have corresponding obligations, and silence is the most irresponsible sign."

"But the power of Muggle wizards is too weak. If we rashly enter this game where the outcome is indistinguishable..."

"That may be an opportunity for you to develop and grow. Of course, it may also be the beginning of your further decline."

Voldemort interrupted the other party again, his voice became serious and deep, "Destiny is a gamble. If you don't go to the card table, it doesn't mean you won't lose."

"Do you want me to support you?" Hermione finally raised her head and asked with her lips turning white.

"Of course I do."

Voldemort said matter-of-factly, "But you can also take the Falconer and reject my idea."

"The results of it?"

The little girl asked stubbornly, her lips pursed without any trace of blood.

"I will exclude you and your Falcon Burner from my plan."

After Voldemort said this, he saw grievance reflected in Hermione's eyes, and there were even tears rolling vaguely.

But Voldemort did not take back his words.

Instead, he added a little more spice.

"That's what you deserve, Hermione. I extend an olive branch to you. Rejection is hostility. I will not tolerate you because of personal relationships."

Voldemort said seriously, completely ignoring the tears rolling down the corners of the little girl's eyes.

"You are also from the Muggle world. You have also experienced the pain of exclusion. You can also understand the regret of not being able to practice magic during the summer vacation.

"Professor, after going through all this, why can't you be a little tolerant to us?"

Hermione wiped away the tears from the corners of her eyes and asked in pain.

Voldemort was silent and did not give an answer immediately.

With his newly developed empathy, he thought about "why" for a moment, and then burst out laughing.

"Hermione, I think...probably, maybe...it's because I haven't been tolerated either."

There was an inexplicable sadness in Voldemort's voice, which instantly touched Hermione's heartstrings.

She stared blankly at the professor's handsome face. The smile on his face was so sincere, but she felt an inexplicable sadness.

"You must be lonely."

Suddenly, Hermione said something completely irrelevant to this situation.

These words made Voldemort stunned on the spot, and even the smile on his face froze.

After a long time, the smile slowly faded away, but no sadness enveloped her.

Voldemort just became expressionless.

"I can't describe myself as strong, Hermione. That seems too... pretentious."

Voldemort thought, trying to find a word to describe how he faced all this.

"Habit, yes, habit, I have been used to being alone since I was a child, so loneliness has never been an enemy to me.

"Hermione, it's my friend."

A smile appeared on Voldemort's face again, but it was short-lived.

He stood up from the swing and gently held the swing to stop it from shaking.

"That's it, Hermione, you always have to make your own choice, because this is your life." Voldemort obviously wanted to end the conversation.

"But that's too important to the Falconer." Hermione said eagerly. She obviously wanted to talk for a while.

"This change is also very important to me, Hermione. We all must be prepared to bear the bad consequences of our choices. I have suffered from this for more than ten years, but I am still choosing."

Voldemort ruffled Hermione's smooth hair again and said, "Now it's your turn, Hermione. This is what adults often call, growing pains."