I became Voldemort

Chapter 48: Poor Potter



Chapter 48: Poor Potter

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During Charms class in the afternoon, Malfoy implemented this plan.

He also wanted to give Harry a show in Potions class, but unfortunately the last Potions class this week was yesterday.

Throughout the class, Malfoy waited for the show. The black diary was placed in the upper left comer of the table.

"We will continue to leam the freezing spell today"

Flitwick stood on the first base of books, otherwise his head would not be as high as the podium.

But he was very enthusiastic, "The spell of the Freezing Curse is 'Petrificus Totalus', Pay attention to distinguish it from the other spell Locomotor Mortis. Of course you have n't learned it yet

"Normally speaking, this freezing spell can only work on moving things, but—"

"Hey, you! Harry Potter!"

A dwarf with a particularly gloomy face burst into the classroom and inter rupted Professor Flitwick's lesson.

The whole class raised their heads and looked at the dwarf who was about the same height as Professor Fiitwick, and Harry immediately realized that he was going to be doomed.

It was so irritating to receive a Valentine's Day card in front of so many people, especially Draco Malfoy among them.

Harry wanted to run away. But he was still in class now. And several dwarfs had already gathered around him, crowding his table Even Ron and Neville were squeezed out.

Harry's gaze was cast out as if asking for help.

He saw a look of fear and worry on Ron's face.

Professor Flitwick on the podium covered his face helplessiy, as if he was saying 'I'm sorry Harry but I can't help, you can only curse Lockhart'.

Across from him, the annoying Malfoy smiled happier than ever.

"I have a message to deliver to Harry Potter personally."

The dwarf said, strumming the harp in an aggressive manner.

"Not here," Harry said in a low voice, almost begging.

"Stop!" the dwarf muttered, grabbing Harry's bag to prevent him from escaping.

"Let me go!" Harry shouted, tugging at his bag.

He no longer cares whether he is in class or not, he would rather die then be humiliated here!

With a loud tearing sound, his schoolbag was torn in half. His book, wand, parchment, and quill clattered to the floor, his inkstand shattering on top.

Harry scrambled for things scattered on the ground, trying to pick them up before the dwarf started singing.

The class was already in chaos, but Malfoy's voice pierced through the noise like a sharp bayonet, slashing at Harry.

"What's going on?"

Malfoy said in a cold and contemptuous tone. But he was much more excited inside than he let on.

He has been waiting for this moment for a long time!

He's laughing at me!

Harry was completely panicked and just wanted to escape quickly, but the dwarf hugged his knees and made him fall heavily to the ground.

"There you go," he said, slumping down on Harry's lap, "here's your singing Valentine's Day card:

His eyes were as green as freshly pickled toads,

His hair is as black and cool as a blackboard,

The scar on his head is as magical as lightning,

I wish he was mine, he's really handsome,

He's Harry Scarhead!"

"Alright!"

Professor Flitwick finally couldn't stand it anymore.

It was probably the first time that the students had seen the gentle Professor Flitwick so angry.

"I'm still in class!"

He picked up the wand and shot a magic spell. It did not hit the dwarf directly, but hit near its feet, leaving a hole as big as a fist on the ground, and drove the dwarf away.

But Harry didn't feel any better at all.

He was willing to hand over all the gold coins in Gringotts, just to turn into vapor and disappear on the spot.

He bravely forced himself to laugh with everyone to burry the shame, but the one who laughed the most in the whole class was Malfoy.

Laughing with Malfoy was even more torture for him.

And the most important part is—

"This is not a confession at all, it's definitely Malfoy's fault!" Harry swore, "Only he would call me Scarhead!"

"What you said makes sense."

Ron nodded, with regret on his face, "How shameful, why didn't we think of such a good trick to tease Malfoy?"

Harry also felt it was a pity, but it was too late to say anything now.

This class was their last class today and this week, afterfter class, Malfoy would return to the Slytherin common room.

But Harry was still unwilling to give in. He was no longer interested in listening to the lecture, and looked at Malfoy with eyes full of hatred under his round lenses.

Then, he saw Malfoy lying on the table as if he had encountered something good, and took out a black notebook and started writing.

But the distance between the two of them was too far, and Harry couldn't see the specific content of Malfoy's writing.

"Haha, I don't think Potter liked your gift of Valentine's Day too much!"

This line of writing seeped into the diary and appeared in front of Cyrus.

My gift to Harry Potter?

Cyrus rolled his eyes. You are the one who loves Harry Potter the most, dude.

He responded immediately:

"Well, the idea was mine but the gift was yours! I guess his expression must be wonderful?"

"Completely correct!"

Through the words, Cyrus could feel Malfoy's extremely happy mood at this time.

I'm afraid there's never a better moment in the world for him than right now.

However, what Cyrus didn't know was that Harry was watching every move of the careless Malfoy.

Fortunately, black books like this are all too common. So much so that even after Harry heard Ginny's description, he didn't have any doubts. After all, they had ruled out the option of Malfoy being a thief before.

But in the final analysis, Malfoy can only make small fuss like this.

The malice in his chest seems to be greater than anyone else's, but when put into practice, it may not be as powerful as he said.

.

.

.

"Are we really going to harm someone?"

In the secret room, Malfoy's voice began to tremble.

In front of him was a tall humanoid figure, elegant and handsome, but his figure was still a little transparent, like a ghost——

It's Cyrus!

By absorbing the life force of Ginny and Malfoy some time ago, he was able to briefly let his shadow leave the diary.

However, this would actually consume a lot of his energy.

But friends always have to face each other.

This is also a small preparation that Cyrus made to completely control Malfoy.

"I think we don't need to..."

"Are you scared? Are you scared like the last coward?" he asked.

"I'm not afraid, it's just..." Draco's chest heaved violently. He looked at the big snake bowing in front of him in horror.

What he felt at this moment was not glory, but real fear.

But facing Cyrus, or in other words, facing "Little Diary" who had been with him for a long time, he was unwilling to show his unbearable side. Especially when he discovered that the half-blood "Tom Riddle" was simply much better than himself.

Now, he really wants to show off himself in front of his friends and his father, so that they know how outstanding he is, but asking him to harm someone is a bit...

"She's just a dirty little Mudblood, why do you care about her?" Cyrus took a step forward. He was just an illusory shadow, but it forced Draco to keep retreating.

"I just don't think it's necessary... Aren't the first few people who were attacked not dead? Just let them petrify, let them petrify..."

"How interesting, Draco." Cyrus chuckled. He had walked up to Draco unknowingly and looked at him condescendingly.

He could feel Draco Malfoy's breathing, rapid and staccato.

"Do you know how much effort it takes for me to get out of the diary? It's far more difficult than possessing you!" Cyrus said angrily, "It's just because you said you wanted to do it yourself that I did this , but now, you are going to back down?"

"I didn't, I didn't, it's just..." Cold sweat continued to flow down his forehead. Although Draco quickly denied it, he couldn't even make up an excuse if he really wanted to.

He only felt a huge mass of sea water submerging him, and the water pressure made him breathless.

He looked like he was in great pain.

At this time, Cyrus' translucent fingers reached towards his chest and pinched the wand he kept in his pocket.

He started to look at it slowly.

"Nice wand, what material is it made of?" Cyrus seemed to have completely put aside the matter of asking Malfoy to harm people, and turned to talking about his wand.

"Hawthorn wood, the core of the staff is unicorn hair."

"Hawthorn, a strange, paradoxical wand, isn't it? It's like the tree itself is full of paradoxes: its leaves and flowers have healing properties, but its cuttings smell of death.

"And unicorn hair. Nothing less suitable for dark magic. Draco—"

Cyrus put Malfoy's wand back into the distance and looked into his eyes:

"You look in pain."

Draco had to admit that "Tom Riddle" was right. But he didn't want to admit it, or in other words, he couldn't say anything now. The friendly "Little Diary" in the past seemed to be a different person, making him feel both strange and scared.

Fortunately, the other party finally relented.

"Neither your good nor evil is pure enough, and this is the source of your pain." Cyrus pointed out the opponent mercilessly.

He put his hand on Draco's shoulder, and his voice gradually became ethereal, like the psychedelic mermaid's song in the sea.

"What you can't do, I'll do it."

"Draco Malfoy, give me your body..."

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