Harry Potter and the Old Ones

"No." Tom Riddle smiled.

"What?" Bridget Baker didn't believe her ears a little bit--

He was ready to listen to Tom Riddle's sophistry, but was interrupted by this "no".

"So, Mr. Riddle is really Voldemort?" But Bridget Baker was a politician who was at ease, and immediately stepped back a few steps.

At the same time, her eyes drifted to the audience.

Bridget Baker's men also heard the music and the elegant meaning, and immediately took two steps at a time, ran to the stage, and blocked Bridget Baker.

The crowd of onlookers, who were just very lively, immediately quieted down at this time.

They also heard the conversation between Bridget Baker and Tom Riddle, so the wizards on the scene not only did not think there was no problem with Bridget Baker's defensive attitude, but even stepped back a few steps.

Tom Riddle did not react much to the attitude of Bridget Baker and the wizards present. Instead, he took a step forward, passed Bridget Baker, and stood at the forefront facing the voters.

"Let's get to know each other again." Tom Riddle first looked up at the sky, then chuckled and drew out his wand, slid it quickly in the air, and wrote three shining names:

"Tom Marvolo Riddle"

Tom Riddle waved his wand fiercely-

The letters automatically changed their order and became:

"I am lord Voldemort"

"Voldemort is my past, my present, and my future." Tom Riddle said slowly.

The wizards in the audience were in an uproar.

At the same time, on the other side of the world, tens of thousands of kilometers away from Bhutan, in the Scottish Highlands, the UK, in the magic-hidden Hogwarts School.

The young Voldemort, who was aliased as "Brendan Carson", was able to stay in Hogwarts for the summer vacation because of his orphan status.

There were many young wizards who made the same choice as him.

At this time, Voldemort, who looked like a freckled 11- or 12-year-old boy, was walking in the empty corridor of Hogwarts.

The summer sun penetrated the patterned glass of the ancient windows, shining on the floor in a mottled manner, reflecting flickering spots of light. Through the huge French windows in the corridor, you can see that the school's open space is covered with large tracts of green grass like a sea, and the sound of cicadas is full of vitality, bringing a touch of vitality to this ancient building that has stood for a thousand years.

In the distance, the looming lake surface was shining, and the willow trees by the lake swayed in the wind, making a soft rustling sound. The air was filled with the fragrance of fresh grass and the moist breath of lake water.

It was two o'clock in the afternoon in the UK time. The afternoon sun in the Scottish Highlands was not as scorching as that in London. At this time, most of the young wizards who stayed in school were in their dormitories to feel the coolness brought by the cooling magic.

Even the teachers who stayed in the school to take care of the school were not willing to appear in the old and stuffy corridor of the school at this time.

Voldemort looked around unscrupulously - Hogwarts was once his home, where he spent many lonely but free summers, and every corner was filled with his memories and secrets. He cherished every stone, every window, and every piece of grass here. Voldemort was attached to this place, but at the same time - he deeply hated it. Dumbledore, Tierra, and the child of prophecy, Harry Potter, brought him failures and humiliations that were deeply engraved in his mind. But it doesn't matter, it doesn't matter. It's all over. A cruel smile appeared on the innocent and lovely face of the young Voldemort. In a few minutes. In a few minutes. Everything here will no longer exist. It doesn't matter, everything doesn't matter, the attachment and honor and disgrace of the past, it doesn't matter. Because soon there will be only himself left, the only "God"! It's almost there. The smile of the young Voldemort became more and more ferocious, and he paced in the corridor of Hogwarts Castle like an eagle. Africa, Mount Cameroon, nearly 5,000 meters above the sky, in the thin air, a man without hair, lips, and only two slender nostrils on his bald face, with fingers like pale spider feet, wearing only a wide hooded cloak, sat on the suspended throne.

The throne seemed to be made of gold, and there was still a cluster of flames burning above his head. It was a golden flame of the same color as the throne, quietly emitting the same streamer light as molten gold.

"Soon...soon..." His voice contained anxiety and expectation, as if waiting for a major event to happen. His body looked extremely pale under the direct sunlight of the high sky, like the skin color of a dying person, revealing a morbid beauty.

As time passed, the air around his body began to distort, and the whole person's image seemed to become more illusory, like smoke that was about to dissipate. This high throne, the golden flame, and his repeated words made this scene full of mystery and ominous premonition. The surrounding environment was so bad, the air was so thin that it was almost impossible to breathe, but he seemed to be out of tune with all this, existing in a completely different level.

On the other side, in the headmaster's office, the highest tower of Hogwarts, Dumbledore and Tierra, two old bastards, were playing chess and drinking tea there as usual.

"I can't imagine that I would agree to such a big plan of yours, allowing you to take Hogwarts, Bhutan, and even the entire European magic world to make trouble." Dumbledore took a sip of tea and said helplessly.

"It's not that you can't imagine agreeing." Tierra made a move, "but you have no way to say no."

"My situation is set, and destiny is hard to defy." Tierra sighed.

"Gellert once called himself destiny." Dumbledore sighed and leaned back on his chair. "No one can claim to be destiny. All those who claim to be destiny will eventually be abandoned by destiny."

"That's why we have to work hard and evolve hard." Tierra said, "Until we evolve into destiny."

"Is that obsession really that important to you?" Dumbledore asked.

"It's important, very important." Tierra said firmly, "The obsession that has trapped us for a lifetime is exactly where our life is. It is like an invisible chain that tightly binds our souls and is a barrier that separates 'who I am' from 'what others think I am'."

"Our obsession is a perfect mirror, reflecting our imperfect selves." Tierra said.

Suddenly, Tierra's hand trembled, and a few drops of the black tea he was holding splashed out of his hand and fell to the ground.

"Let's start," Tierra said.