Chapter 90 The aggrieved Dark Lord (45)
"Mr. Voldemort, I'm happy because summer vacation is coming soon. But I'm curious, can you leave the earth when you are at your strongest?" Rogge looked at Voldemort's confused eyes and smacked his lips.
"I can fly..."
"Fly? Can you fly out of the earth? Mr. Voldemort doesn't live in the Middle Ages, does he? But I remember the book said you were born in this century..."
"Shut up!" Voldemort became angry and had to calm down his anger in the face of the magic power that was about to explode in Roger's wand.
He saw that the idea of pure blood could not impress the other party, so he wanted to capture him with ambition and power.
"Rogg, maybe you don't agree with my ideals. But as a Slytherin, you must have ambitions. Don't deny it!" Voldemort said seductively, "I am your senior, and I know the thoughts of the geniuses in the academy."
"Who said I have to deny it?" Rogge shook his head, "Today's magic world is an antique. Take a look at this office. There is no trace of the electrical age at all."
"Please, it's almost the 21st century. I can't even drink a glass of iced Coke even if I want to." Rogge's disdainful eyes were not only directed at Hogwarts, but also at Voldemort.
There is no happiness at all, not happy at all.
Voldemort laughed instead of being angry when he heard this. He was not afraid that Rogge would disapprove of him, but that Rogge would have no ambition. Wanting to change the entire magical world is great, very ambitious, and he likes it very much.
"Join me, Rogge, and help me get the unicorn's blood. I will lead all wizards to glory!" Voldemort's plan was very clear, but it also exposed his weakness.
In his soul state, he can only possess other creatures and use their vitality to survive. Quirrell's life force is about to run out, and he needs the blood of the unicorn to keep him alive.
"You will stand side by side with me and gain supreme power and glory. At that time, the entire magical world will allow you to change, and no one will stop you. Not even Merlin!"
…
"Um, one word, king side by side, dividing the world equally, entering the court without any tendency, praising and worshiping without fame, walking on swords and walking in the palace..." Listening to the big cake in Voldemort's mouth, a lot of nouns popped up in Rogge's mind.
History tells him that most people who enjoy these benefits end up miserable.
"If you feel too empty, I can help you now! Let you become Slytherin's prefect, student council president! Minister of Magic!"
"That's it?" Rogge's frivolous tone made Voldemort stunned, not knowing how to answer for a moment.
"I am now the shadow prefect of Slytherin. Do I need that title? As for the student council president, haha, he is holding a chicken feather as an arrow."
"When I'm happy, I call him President. When I'm unhappy, I pat his face and ask him to get out of my way." Rogge said confidently and openly, "Wizards are always judged by their strength. People without strength are only worthy of being rats in the ditch. Fame and power have always been accessories to strength."
"The law does not judge the victor. As for changing the entire wizarding world... With all due respect, Mr. Voldemort, you are a good man."
"Good guy...me?" Voldemort felt uncomfortable and awkward after receiving Rogge's good guy card.
"Yes. Changing the magical world requires lofty ideals and dedication, and I happen to lack both of these. Mr. Voldemort, I am a timid person."
"Cowardly!?" Voldemort screamed. He had never seen such a shameless and weird wizard.
Yelling and taunting yourself in front of yourself. Say your name anytime and anywhere, never take him seriously. Is this also called fear?
"Okay, Rogge." Voldemort was so stubborn that he threw out sugar-coated bullets.
"I have to admit, you have a lot of ideas. So, are you interested in black magic? Real black magic? Even the production of Horcruxes!" Voldemort tempted.
"As far as I know, the restricted area of Hogwarts is not open to young wizards. The Horcrux books have been moved into the principal's office by Dumbledore.
As long as you agree, I will ask Quirrell to issue an approval note for you, allowing you to enter there at any time. I, the greatest dark wizard in the world, can be your teacher. Teach you all the black magic you want to know and learn, and personally guide you in learning any magic. "
"That...Mr. Voldemort." Rogge looked at Voldemort's excitement and was too embarrassed to hit him.
"I went on a Christmas trip and accidentally emptied the underground library of a certain Ministry of Magic. "Occlumency", "Advanced Dark Arts Revealed", "Forbidden Split"... I have many books at home, and there is no need to go to the restricted book area to read them. ." The more Rogge read, the deeper the back of Quirrell's head sank.
"You're not going to lose your mind, are you?" Rogge rubbed his nose, his face becoming a little unreal.
He hoped that the famous Dark Lord, the patricide Riddle, the prisoner supplier, the man whose name cannot be mentioned in the British wizarding world... dear Mr. Voldemort could hold on. A true warrior must dare to face the bleak life.
"If you don't believe it, I can recite a piece of Horcrux knowledge for you..."
"Okay!" Voldemort shouted, "You don't need dark magic. Where is the gold galleons? I also have the key to the Lestrange family's vault!"
"Your mother comes from the Lestrange family. How about their family key? Huh?" Voldemort looked at Rogge eagerly with his remaining hope.
"Is there a million Galleons?" Rogge looked at Quirrell's office and frowned: "This place is too small. The money I saved in Gringotts can flood the entire room."
"Oh, it's a pity that the goblins are so stingy. After exchanging so little money, they permanently closed the exchange window." Rogge cursed, regretfully saying that he still had tens of billions of pounds that he didn't know what to do with.
"You..." Voldemort's heart was broken now. He looked at Rogge feebly, feeling that he was a loser from a backward era and a pauper.
"Let's go!" He closed his eyes weakly, not as arrogant and domineering as he was at the beginning. Like a dying old man, sighing feebly.
"If you tell Dumbledore, I will kill you even if I risk Quirrell's life!" Voldemort's words made Quirrell panic. Why would he risk his own life?
"Don't worry, I won't tell Dumbledore! I swear to Merlin!" Rogge smiled. Now that offense and defense were swapped, it was time to tell his terms.
"Mr. Voldemort, if you do me a few small favors, I might be able to help."
"Really!" Voldemort shouted excitedly, realizing that he had lost his identity as the Dark Lord, and quickly redeemed himself.
"explain!"
"As a wizard, I believe in equal exchange. First of all, there are a few small questions. With your knowledge, you will definitely be able to teach me."
"Of course, I am the best graduate in the history of Hogwarts. When it comes to magic, especially dark magic, Dumbledore can't compare to me."
Seeing Voldemort nodding, Rogge asked what he had always doubted: "You will definitely not tell me how many Horcruxes were made in total. Don't worry, I won't ask either. But can you tell me why you made Horcruxes?"
"Eternal life!" Voldemort answered directly.
"Eternal life? As far as I know, you started researching Horcruxes when you were in school. You were only a teenager at that time. Why are you so worried about death?"
Voldemort closed his eyes and said nothing to Rogge's questioning.
"Well, it looks like you're afraid of death."
"Since you can make Horcruxes, you must know the despicable Haierbo. Tell me, is he dead or alive?"
"I don't know." Voldemort looked at Rogge's eyes and snorted: "I didn't lie to you. Some said he died because he merged his souls into one, and some said he was still living in seclusion somewhere. No one knows the truth. "
"I have traveled all over Greece and found no trace of him. So there is reason to believe that Herbo is dead."
Rogge had doubts about his words. If Herbo was dead, why would Voldemort frantically make Horcruxes in pursuit of immortality.
"Okay, then the third question. Can the consciousness of the Horcrux be erased and turned into a pure magic tool?"
Voldemort's eyes flashed coldly. He really had never thought that soul fragments could be dealt with in this way. But the key is not the answer, but the question itself.
