Chapter 19 I want to control myself

The dark potion soon filled the entire room with a stench.

"I stepped on my own mine, and ended up licking it myself..."

Holding back his nausea, gritting his teeth and shaking his heart, Voldemort raised the golden cauldron.

"Gudu... Gudu..."

The stench filled the mouth and entered the stomach along the throat... It was hard to experience this sour taste a second time.

"Snapped."

He threw away the golden crucible in disgust and threw the crucible out of a pit. Voldemort didn't care at all.

"Next, you need to go to sleep and try to peek into the starting point of the curse in your dreams."

Voldemort thought about the next steps, but did not act immediately. Instead, he went to rinse his mouth and brush his teeth first.

After taking care of his oral hygiene, he went to bed and lay down, quickly fell asleep, and waited for the potion to take effect.

After sleeping for half an hour, in a trance, dreams began to appear:

In a dimly lit basement, many stone pillars carved with entangled snakes towered up to support the ceiling that melted into the darkness above. The room was filled with a mysterious green mist.

At the end of the basement, a straight figure looked up at the tall statue behind him, murmuring some inaudible words.

Voldemort wanted to get closer and watch, but he had no way of controlling this dream. It was completely different from the world in the Pensieve.

Staring at that straight back, Voldemort knew that it was his twenty-year-old self.

Time flies, and now, he has lost his body and power and has become a wandering soul in his sixties, but the figure in front of him still looks like he is in his prime...

Suddenly, the figure from behind raised the wand, and a ray of magic shot out from the tip of the wand, hitting the statue - there was no explosion or halo as expected, the statue directly sucked the magic in.

The entire dream began to dim, and finally, slowly disappeared from Voldemort's vision.

"call."

The sleeping Voldemort suddenly opened his eyes.

In the darkness, only the not-so-bright moonlight outside the window fell on the bedside.

"That magic... that magic..."

He murmured repeatedly, picked up the yew wand at hand, and tried the magic again and again according to the feeling in the dream:

Forget everything...

Cutting out the bones...

Fainted to the ground...

…

Voldemort tried all the magic that directly affected the spirit, but until the magic power was almost exhausted, there was still no result.

"The soul leaves the body..."

Green light shot out from the yew wand, and Voldemort's heart trembled.

"It feels like this, but it's incomplete...incomplete..."

There was no color in the dream, and he couldn't see the color of the curse, but it felt like it was definitely not the Imperius Curse - to be more precise, it was more than the Imperius Curse.

"Is it a mixed magic? It's similar to the Imperius Curse. If so..."

"Confusion."

The magic hit the roof and collapsed some walls, but Voldemort didn't care at all because he found the feeling of magic in his dream.

"Using to confuse people's hearing and hearing, coupled with the Imperius Curse... Voldemort's remnant soul, how much memory have you lost?"

He couldn't help but complain in his heart. The curse in the dream was obviously an enhanced version of the Confusion Curse. It had the characteristics of the Soul-Tampering Curse and could better confuse people.

The Confusion Curse was originally just an ordinary magic, but in Voldemort's hands, it had the characteristics of black magic - a powerful evil attribute.

In other words, once this curse occurs - it must have unique triggering conditions - the confusion spell with the properties of the Soul-Impering Curse will act on yourself, and by that time...

Voldemort couldn't help but shudder.

He really couldn't imagine what the consequences would be if he did something he couldn't control under Dumbledore's eyes.

"No wonder Quirrell in his memory dared to use a curse on Harry during the game in broad daylight..."

"No wonder Lockhart, who has mastered forgetfulness into a magical skill, can't even use ordinary magic in the secret room..."

"No wonder Lu Ping, who has always been cautious and low-key, actually drank his Wolfsbane potion on the most critical day..."

"No wonder Barty Crouch Jr. completed his mission..."

"..."

Everything seemed to have an answer at this moment. The cursed Defense Against the Dark Arts class was indeed worthy of its name.

"So, how do I avoid being confused?"

Voldemort was stumped. He didn't even know the triggering conditions for the curse, so how could he prevent it?

"Are you... giving up?"

He had this idea in his mind, but he couldn't make up his mind.

Giving up at this point will do more harm than good:

First of all, there will definitely be problems with Quirrell's identity. When the time comes, he will probably have to face the endless pursuit of the old bee.

Secondly, he couldn't kill the old bees as planned - in fact, he no longer agreed with this idea.

Finally, Hogwarts had his Horcruxes and enough magical knowledge that he desperately needed.

Now, although he can rely on Quirrell's powerful magic to perform magic and even black magic, he has not studied systematically after all, and there are still many shortcomings.

Especially after seeing the changes made to the Confusion Curse by the former Dark Lord, he became full of desire to systematically learn magic knowledge.

Even though as a teacher, he couldn't go to class like a student, Hogwarts had a huge library and powerful professors who could answer his questions at any time, which he desperately needed.

And until he becomes stronger, Death Eaters cannot be trusted—at least the Death Eaters outside Azkaban cannot be trusted.

"So, you still have to go, even if the first stumbling block is set by yourself."

With a decision in his mind, Voldemort no longer hesitated and began to make plans for the future.

He took out a diary and began to sort out his thoughts:

First: Beware of confusion spells and plan ahead for possible accidents.

Second: Work hard to advance the plot until it becomes impossible.

Third: weaken Dumbledore's suspicion of me and try to keep Quirrell's identity safe.

Fourth: Make a study plan, including but not limited to this entire year.

Fifth: Make a teaching plan, focusing on the cultivation of Slytherin, and subtly influencing Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Gryffindor to be determined (be prepared to give up).

Sixth: Pay attention to Azkaban and find ways to rescue loyal ministers...

…

As plans were laid out one by one, Voldemort's restless heart gradually calmed down.

The Confusion Curse cast by the twenty-year-old Voldemort was certainly terrifying, but he was not unable to guard against it. However, it was almost impossible to ensure the smooth flow of the plot.

"If it's possible..."

While tearing out the page on which the text was written, along with the following pages, and burning them together, he thought, "The best way is to control yourself and not be affected by the confusion spell."

Changing the curse must be extremely difficult, but looking at Snape's magic blade, it is not a big problem for a genius, especially for a genius like Voldemort. His talent in dark magic is obvious. .