Temptation is everywhere in this world. And some temptations are simply impossible to refuse.
Voldemort's temptation was exactly like that—it made people fall into his trap without them even realizing it.
The moment the wizard said yes, Voldemort saw right through to his deepest desires.
Most of the time, smart people can figure out what someone is thinking just by watching the changes in their expression.
Voldemort was exceptional at this. If he hadn't been a wizard—even if he were just a Muggle—he would have made an excellent psychologist.
He could perceive the thoughts in a person's heart and easily uncover their deeply buried desires. Then, using rhetoric and logic that resonated with them, he would unknowingly build their trust in him.
That was exactly how he got to Helena, convincing her to reveal the hiding place of the diadem.
And that was precisely why Ravenclaw's Diadem became one of his Horcruxes.
At the edge of the black fog, Voldemort taught the wizard a few powerful dark spells.
Using this newly acquired dark magic, the three Feral Werewolves that charged out of the fog were cut down by the wizard, one by one. It was smooth, easy, and completely devoid of the peril he had faced just moments before.
Defeating an opponent you once feared is the ultimate proof of gaining power. The wizard, previously anxious and insecure, let out a loud, liberating laugh.
His confidence had been shaky, but after killing the werewolves in succession, the fear he once held for them vanished into smoke.
"I am Quirinus Quirrell. Thank you for saving me just now."
"Oh, you're welcome. I am Tom Marvolo Riddle."
It was a strange conversation between a man and a snake.
A normal-looking python speaking human language—Quirrell was incredibly curious about this. When the snake introduced itself as Tom Riddle, Quirrell didn't connect the name to the infamous Dark Lord Voldemort.
In the wizarding world, most referred to Voldemort as "You-Know-Who." Even those who dared to go a step further called him Voldemort. As for the Dark Lord's real name, it had long been drowned in the river of wizarding history.
Too few people remembered it.
For Quirrell, the wizarding world was full of magical, unknown creatures. Clearly, he assumed this python was one of them.
He loved exploring the unknown, especially within the dangerous realm of the Dark Arts.
This exploration wasn't for academic research; it was merely to satisfy his curiosity.
His curiosity had taken root in his youth, formed when he was mocked by his classmates for being timid.
Ridiculed as a coward, he began exploring the Dark Arts before he even graduated.
Dark magic is a dangerous field. Danger keeps people away. But danger could also shut the mouths of those who mocked him.
So, trembling with fear, he explored dark magical objects. Every successful discovery gave him enough confidence to prove to himself that he wasn't a coward—not in the slightest.
---
"There are some ruins in the Albanian forest. Would you like to see them?"
Voldemort, in his snake form, flicked his tongue, his voice weak and raspy.
He had spoken more today than he had in years combined.
Now that he had gained the trust of this wizard, Quirrell, Voldemort felt it was time to lead him to the ruins.
The dark forest was vast, and the ruins were far away. During the journey, things could happen that would strengthen the trust between them.
Quirrell was a good wizard. Lonely and lacking friends, after being saved by Voldemort, he quickly came to view the snake as his best friend. He didn't mind at all that his new friend was a python.
Ruins in the forest usually held treasures. Hearing Voldemort's suggestion, Quirrell asked with great interest, "What kind of ruins?"
"The City of Devils. An altar left behind by a vanished indigenous tribe."
As Voldemort answered Quirrell, the snake's head swayed, and he slithered forward.
Voldemort felt no need to say too much to this wizard who already trusted him. He needed to maintain his air of mystery, using Quirrell's curiosity to keep a firm grip on the initiative.
"The City of Devils... is it dangerous?"
Cowardice was Quirrell's nature. He asked hesitantly, but at the same time, he unconsciously followed Voldemort.
It was a show of trust. Unknowingly, Voldemort was influencing him in the details, and Quirrell had no self-awareness of it, nor did he stop to think about where his trust in a python came from.
"Were those three Feral Werewolves dangerous?"
Without looking back, hearing Quirrell's footsteps following him, Voldemort's snake mouth cracked into a grin, his tongue flicking a bit more frequently.
"It was okay, I guess," Quirrell replied casually.
Successfully dealing with the three Feral Werewolves had inflated his confidence. Voldemort's rhetorical question stoked his vanity.
The danger just now, in Quirrell's current view, was within a controllable range. And often, people who are truly timid and lack confidence love "controllable danger" the most.
"When we get there, I might need a small favor from you."
"Okay."
When a person is in their best mood, if you ask for a small favor, they are likely to agree—after all, it's just a small favor.
Moreover, after hovering on the line between life and death together, Quirrell trusted Voldemort immensely.
This was one of Voldemort's greatest strengths: he knew exactly what to say, and when to say it, to achieve his goals.
---
While Voldemort guided the future Professor Quirrell through the forests of Albania, back in human society, a vampire case was stirring up controversy among wizards.
Cabor Doric, an Auror, had turned into a vampire.
The focal point of the debate was this: Doric was an Auror, a hero. Although he became a vampire, he hadn't caused significant casualties.
According to the Guidelines for the Treatment of Non-Wizard Part-Humans, wizards would not actively hunt vampires who did not disrupt the order of human society or slaughter humans.
Although Doric hadn't killed a single Hogwarts student, he had killed his comrade of many years, Turner.
This was an unforgivable crime. In the end, the judge handed down the sentence: Cabor Doric was sentenced to life imprisonment in the wizarding prison, Azkaban.
The Daily Prophet reported the details of Doric being locked away. Throughout the process, Doric remained cold and silent, his pale face bloodless and indifferent.
An Auror fallen to a vampire. And now, the wizarding prison welcomed its first-ever vampire inmate.
---
"Big Sister, was Professor Doric in the paper really an Auror?"
Inside Greengrass Manor, eight-year-old Astoria held The Daily Prophet, pointing a finger at the cold face of Doric in the photo as she asked Agnes.
"Yes, he was once a hero. But he chose the wrong path. So, Astoria, we must stick to the beliefs in our hearts."
Agnes put down her book and smiled at her adorable little sister.
"For example, that all people should be equal, right?"
Astoria, only eight years old, giggled and asked softly.
This was a secret between the sisters, a shared understanding only they possessed. Within the Greengrass family, this particular belief was met with very different opinions.
Agnes put a finger to her lips, making a "shh" gesture.
Astoria nodded her little head knowingly, and the two sisters dissolved into giggles in the room.