The Old Ones of Hogwarts

Chapter 199, Section 198: Riddle: I believe in the power of love.

Chapter 199, Section 198: Riddle: I believe in the power of love.

Did Riddle walk right into a trap?

To be honest, things were developing in a way that was far beyond Ian's original predictions. Before entering the time machine, he had only thought that he would return to the Woods Orphanage decades ago, take a look at what the place where he grew up looked like, and then catch the cunning Tom who had escaped.

Who would have thought that not only would the time travel turn to two thousand years ago, arriving in a city destined for destruction in history, but they would also be drawn into the past related to the black-robed skeleton.

These situations were all incredibly shocking, but for Ian's thick skin, they weren't unacceptable. He was simply witnessing how exciting history had been. Gods, legends, disasters, apocalypses—all those things would become part of his life's memories after he found Tom in hiding.

He was determined to find Tom and then find a way back to the future, but at this moment, Ian looked at the handsome "senior" in front of him and really felt that plans could not keep up with changes.

Tom Riddle, who had been hiding in the shadows, had actually delivered himself to my doorstep! This was completely contrary to Ian's idea of ​​finding him, then having a fierce battle with him, and finally having to kill him! Whether or not he absorbed the magic was secondary; Ian's main goal was to eliminate the threat forever.

Of course, seeking justice was also one of the reasons. After all, Riddle's troubles had wasted so much of his time, and it would be unreasonable for him not to seek justice for himself.

Holding in your anger is bad for your thyroid.

"Where did you take Malfoy? Did you devour the soul of my kind classmate and be reborn? Damn it! I can never forgive such an evil person as you!" Ian looked Riddle up and down, now back to his sixteen-year-old self. His expression was filled with grief and indignation, which finally gave him a reason to kill Riddle.

What do you mean by turning yourself in?

It was all just Riddle's cunning trickery!

Ian declared that he would never be deceived by the Dark Lord!

"I didn't devour him! He's still alive! He's just separated from me!"

Riddle looked at the indignant young wizard in front of him and felt a chill run down his spine. Seeing the other's wand poised to strike, he quickly began to explain loudly.

"That's impossible, it's all your lies." Ian frowned upon hearing this. Although he expressed his disbelief, he did put down the wand he had raised.

The green light above gradually disappeared.

Riddle secretly breathed a sigh of relief.

He was momentarily dazed, unable to distinguish whether he or the other was the Dark Lord... What happened to the Hogwarts wizards who were supposed to be full of love and justice?

Why is this guy reaching out to bite into a melon?

"He planted a curse on you, and then you wanted to infect me with it, so that we'd be in the same boat and have to work together to find a solution. Really, Riddle, you certainly have a clever mind." Ian was trying to come up with another plan when one failed.

He already knew, of course, that he would not be affected by the mysterious curse.

at this point.

He had already verified it without realizing it when he was in the temple at the beginning, and now, after looking into Riddle's eyes, he took out a mirror but still couldn't find the mark in his own eyes.

"What do you mean by spreading a curse?"

Riddle was stunned when he heard Ian's words.

He was terrified.

"I don't know! Damn it! I only have the knowledge of a sixteen-year-old!"

It was as if he was defending himself.

Riddle spoke somewhat flusteredly.

"Oh?"

Ian narrowed his eyes.

"It's Helbo's doing! Yes! That despicable Helbo! I know you must have heard of that name; your black magic is better than mine at this age!"

Riddle knew that if he didn't explain the situation, he would definitely not be safe. He was all too familiar with the little wizard's eyes; Voldemort, that was, him, had the same look in his eyes when he was looking for an excuse to kill someone.

To judge others by one's own standards.

Riddle found Ian's gaze absolutely terrifying.

"Helpo?" Ian heard another unexpected name from Riddle. "Are you kidding me because I'm bad at history? Helpo lived around 800 BC!"

He pressed his wand directly against Riddle's nose. "Of course, he has a Horcrux just like you. Don't tell me you found his Horcrux and resurrected him."

have to say.

Ian's guess is not impossible. After all, birds of a feather flock together, and it's not uncommon for Riddle to want to find a confidant only to be betrayed by that confidant.

"How could I do something so stupid! Do you think I'm some kind of lunatic like Voldemort?!" Riddle quickly took a few steps back, covering his nose as if he cherished it.

"Aren't you Voldemort?"

Ian sneered.

Riddle, however, took it seriously and corrected him.

"Yes, of course I am Voldemort, but the Voldemort you know is not me. I am only sixteen years old now, and I am completely different from the idiot you know!" He also seemed to despise himself without a nose. Perhaps this is another form of how children eventually grow up and become the kind of person they hate?

"Helpo wasn't resurrected by a Horcrux, so I can't understand his state. My current knowledge is limited to what I learned when I was sixteen."

"But one thing I'm certain of is that he planted a terrible curse on me, and he is no longer in a human form; he can be considered a completely different kind of being!"

When Riddle mentioned Helpo, his tone was filled with lingering fear and dread; it was hard to imagine that such emotions could be clearly perceived in someone like him.

Riddle may have sensed something was wrong when Helbo placed the curse on him, but he didn't show it at the time. In fact, such composure and shrewdness are quite impressive.

"What kind of creature?"

Ian could tell.

If it weren't for the fact that gouging out his eyes probably wouldn't solve the problem, Riddle would have definitely gouged out his eyeballs without hesitation at this moment, as the mysterious brand image in his eyes was very clear.

"I don't know! He called himself an angel! And he controlled a power that wasn't magic! You see my current state now, right? He resurrected me and created a body for me out of thin air!" Riddle still finds it unbelievable when he recalls it now; it was far beyond his comprehension.

"You've been resurrected, but what about Malfoy?"

Upon hearing this, Ian simply asked a question that was perhaps not very important.

"He was unconscious and was thrown into a room and locked up by Halbo. However, he was definitely still alive when I left. I could sense that he might still be of some use to Halbo."

Riddle stated his assessment, his gaze still filled with suspicion as he looked at Ian, growing increasingly impatient. "I can let you view my memories."

"You've studied this kind of magic, haven't you? I've gathered all the information about you." Riddle bowed deeply, presenting his temple to Ian's wand.

"..."

Ian had dealt with Voldemort several times, but this was the first time he had ever seen Voldemort like this. Seeing Riddle open his mind and soul without any defenses, he became more and more aware that Riddle's fear and panic might not be fake. Riddle had probably really encountered something that terrified the Dark Lord.

If not.

Riddle would never offer himself up, nor would he be as candid as he is now.

"I'm opening my mind, look! Look at my memories!" Riddle even urged Ian, his temples pounding against Ian's wand.

Young wizards are afraid that their wands will be covered in dandruff.

"I think it would be safer for you to examine his thoughts. If it's a fabricated memory or an implanted memory, someone like you would definitely be able to tell the difference."

Ian remained cautious. He turned to look at the "priestess" who had been cracking nuts the whole time and hadn't said a word, as if she were watching a show.

"I?"

The "priestess" who was named was somewhat bewildered.

"Yes, I need you to do that."

Ian spoke calmly.

He knew that Her Highness the Goddess would find it difficult to disobey his orders.

as predicted.

Despite her reluctance, the "priestess" threw away her nuts and stood up, wiping her oily hands on her clothes without any regard for her image.

Ok.

Those might not have been her clothes, but rather the clothes that should have belonged to the real priestess. Having one's body borrowed and then having to soil a set of clothes—being a clergyman is certainly not an easy task. The "priestess" glanced at Riddle, then walked towards this soul from the future with a hint of disdain.

"Let me tell you, this is absolutely not a wise idea. There's a reason why we can't interfere too much in the human world: the more we interfere, the sooner Ragnarok will arrive."

"That's the real disaster." While explaining the hidden rules to the young wizard, the "priestess" still raised her hand, wanting to press both index fingers onto Riddle's temples.

Perhaps noticing the nut crumbs on her fingers, the "priestess" disregarded her image and put them in her mouth to suck on, causing Riddle to immediately turn away in disgust and avoid her hand.

"I don't want to contract any of those weird ancient diseases. Sorry, it's not that I look down on you, but I really am a germaphobe. I've observed that you people hardly take a bath even once a month, which is definitely not a good habit..." Riddle said disdainfully, his tone finally regaining its usual arrogance.

however.

Before he could finish his rambling complaints, the "priestess," rolling her eyes, flicked her finger, and Riddle's head flew off his neck uncontrollably.

Yes.

His head and body were completely separated, but not a drop of blood flowed out. Riddle's facial expressions remained active, and his body was still frantically grabbing at things in place.

"What's going on?!"

Riddle let out a terrified scream as his head flew into the "priestess's" hand. His eyes then began to dart around wildly, and even drool dripped from the corner of his mouth.

It was obvious that the "goddess" read memories in a very brutal way, probably because of Riddle's contempt. Ian, who knew the "black-robed skeleton's" vengeful nature, understood that this was the "goddess's" revenge.

About a minute later.

"He wasn't lying, he really did meet Helbo... I remember this guy, a brilliant wizard who created a way to escape death but didn't even live to the lifespan of an ordinary wizard."

"He was an unlucky fellow, but it seems he had some good fortune after his death." After viewing Riddle's memories, the "priestess" turned to Ian and said with a sigh.

Her words could be considered an endorsement of Riddle. After speaking, the goddess tossed Riddle's head back to her as if it were trash.

However, instead of returning it to Riddle's head, it landed on the ground in front of Riddle's body. Perhaps out of a wicked sense of humor, she watched with great interest as Riddle searched for his head on the ground.

"Became what they call an angel, a return of the dead?" Ian frowned, his face full of surprise. He hadn't expected Riddle to actually be an honest child.

This may also mean that Riddell has indeed encountered a problem that is fundamentally unsolvable.

"I prefer to call it a stroke of good luck. As everyone knows, Death is different from all the gods that people are familiar with. Even Hela and Hades don't dare to call themselves Death."

"It is a pure embodiment of the rules, so it has no need for angels. However, Helpo's soul did return to the mortal world through the power of Death."

"A war once took place in the world of the dead. The Grim Reaper was defeated and collapsed by the master of the Kingdom of the Dead. Helpo found a part of the Grim Reaper's power that had been scattered back then."

"You can think of this power as divine rules. Of course, it's also possible that Helbo's discovery of this power was part of Death's schemes and plans."

"Nobody can say for sure..."

When faced with Ian's question, the "priestess" did not play the riddle-maker this time, but she did not reveal much information and did not completely resolve the young wizard's inner confusion.

Not a single mistake, not a single poem, not a single post, not a single piece of content, not a single look!

"I've heard people talk about Death like this more than once." Ian's mind flashed through many memories as he secretly used magic to make Riddle's head roll on the ground while looking at the "priestess".

"But if it's as you say, that Death is the embodiment of rules, why would He do such a thing? And why does He also appear in the stories about the Three Holy Relics that circulate among humans?"

"Your generation must have heard the story of the Three Sacred Treasures and the Three Brothers, right?" Ian wasn't quite sure about that; he had studied the Three Sacred Treasures but hadn't been able to find the specific historical year.

"You're underestimating me. Just because something hasn't happened yet doesn't mean I don't know it will happen. As long as I don't look to my destination, I can see every little event in history."

The "priestess," who had taken out some more nuts and sat down in the chair, spoke in a light tone, but her words made Ian look at her intently several times.

"So, you should also know the Grim Reaper's motives?" Ian looked at Riddle's body, which was crashing into the walls everywhere, and decided to let the poor Riddle go, no longer trying to do anything sneaky.

"certainly."

The "priestess," who had her long legs crossed, chuckled. "Everyone knows His motives. All His actions, all His plans, and everything He does have only one purpose."

"That is... to embrace this world, to embrace a creator whose existence is unknown to anyone." Her words were very euphemistic, yet they still sent a chill down the young wizard's spine.

"Boom!"

Just at this time.

The thunderous roar, like some kind of warning, suddenly appeared in the sky, and the sound carried deep into the earth. The "priestess," who had been completely calm just moments before, visibly panicked.

"I've been warned."

She felt a pang of regret for having made the same mistake of not being able to control her mouth again.

"In any case, Helpo is indeed a problem. He has crawled back into this world in his dead body and wants to use disaster and his stolen characteristics to meddle in forbidden areas."

The "priestess" changed the subject, her tone wistful, but she didn't seem to care much.

"You wouldn't allow something like this to happen, would you?" Ian noticed the "priestess's" attitude and looked at this being among the gods with some confusion.

"If it's going to happen, then it should happen; no one can stop fate." However, the "priestess" shook her head, displaying an extremely detached attitude.

Just as the young wizard frowned and was about to speak...

"My head can't be put back together!"

Finally finding his head, Riddle tried to put it on his neck, but couldn't get it to stick, so he shouted angrily.

"Click~"

The "priestess" snapped her fingers.

Riddle's head and neck were reattached.

"For the sake of your filthy soul having some value," the "priestess" glanced at Del with disgust before turning her gaze back to the thoughtful little wizard before her.

"Of course, if you don't stop it, Helbo might really change a lot of things." Clearly, this sentence was to emphasize to Ian the consequences of letting Helbo go unchecked.

God knows why she said it didn't matter one minute, and then immediately gave this kind of reminder the next.

"If Helbo really did something like this in history, even if we don't stop him, it's unlikely that he would disrupt the future."

"After all, he is a thing of the past for us."

Ian was trying to sort things out.

"If you hadn't come to this era, this would have been the way it is. But you came, and you brought him the people he wanted. That is already creating a new future."

Upon hearing this, the "priestess" shook her head.

The tone was full of profound meaning.

"What do you mean?"

The little wizard narrowed his eyes.

"An angel needs someone who is like him, someone who shouldn't be there, to become his angel and lift up his throne so that he can ignite the divine fire and ascend to the achievement that he should have failed to attain at some point."

The "priestess" turned to look at Riddle, who was leaning against the wall and vomiting.

"Helpo wasn't actually deceiving you; he genuinely intended to share his glory with you. However, it was you, as his angel, as a 'part' of himself, who would share that glory with him."

"Look, this is a common tactic used by many extremely evil beings. They show genuine sincerity without any falsehood, but the victims are completely unaware that the sincerity they see is not the whole truth."

"Truth, in the mouths of these guys, can always be used as a weapon." Her unhurried words sent chills down Riddle's spine, raising goosebumps all over his body.

The young wizard gave an awkward, sheepish laugh.

He felt that this goddess was biased.

But not knowing how to refute it, he fell into a rare silence.

"Excuse me, but I've wanted to ask you this since earlier: who exactly are you...? With such methods, such power, and such knowledge, your name must be etched in history."

Riddle shook his head, which had rolled hundreds of times on the ground. He felt a lingering fear when he thought about what had just happened, and his gaze toward the priestess was extremely unfriendly and angry.

It's unclear whether Riddle wanted to remember this grudge and seek revenge later.

In this regard.

The priestess didn't care at all.

Ian, on the other hand, found a good excuse to change the subject.

"She is one of the active gods of this era. Didn't you see Priestess Ryan kneeling there for half an hour?" The little wizard pointed to Priestess Ryan, who had completely lost her presence.

Priest Ryan then made some noises to show that he wasn't dead. However, Riddle didn't look at him; Riddle was still feeling dizzy.

"Oh, I see. Just a god... Hmm, that explains it." Riddle initially tried to express disdain, but his dazed mind finally came to its senses.

His expression stiffened as he changed his story.

Then.

He then gave the little wizard a look that was even uglier than crying.

"When can we go back? Or can you take me back first? I'm starting to look forward to Azkaban, really, Professor Dumbledore will definitely give me the punishment I deserve."

Say something.

Perhaps what happened after arriving in this era was not only unexpected for the young wizard Ian, but also for Voldemort, who was only sixteen years old at the time, Tom Riddle.

He has never been so sincere before.

Compared to this era.

Hogwarts, Dumbledore, even Azkaban—he missed them all terribly. At least there, there weren't any of those weird legendary wizards or gods and angels.

I'm only sixteen!

Even if I am the Dark Lord's past self! A part of Voldemort! That's still not enough! Even if you dragged my prime self over here, my magic, capable of devouring giant melons, would be rendered utterly insignificant in this place!

Damn, the primitive era!

Anyone you randomly pick from this place could probably become a more qualified Dark Lord in future generations—even this little wizard who came after me seems to be more suited to this era than I am!

"You don't want to take me back to face trial, do you?"

It's no wonder Riddle felt guilty. Looking at the young wizard in front of him, he couldn't help but think of the fact that this young wizard liked to feed other Voldemort souls to an evil phoenix.

This is no less impressive than Haierbo's operation.

If we weren't completely without options...

Why would he run back and walk right into a trap?

just now.

Riddle felt he could only trust that Hogwarts' education in "love and kindness" was still as effective as ever.

(End of this chapter)