Chapter 46: Why Become the Dark Lord?

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His breathing was rapid, and his hair and forehead were drenched in cold sweat.

Harry’s pupils were slightly dilated. He looked as though he had just run three thousand meters.

Roger had never watched the later films, but he had seen short video edits centered on Snape.

In his previous life, Snape had been fairly popular, and Roger had happened to come across one of them now and then.

This time, Roger had expanded upon the relevant death scenes he remembered seeing, then used his own mental techniques to enhance their realism and refine the details. By the time he presented them to Harry, the experience should have felt nearly the same as living through them firsthand.

“Just now…” After some time had passed and Harry had finally freed himself from that terrifying sense of death, he opened and closed his mouth, unsure what to say.

“That was one possible future, assuming I did not exist.”

“Voldemort would return in a fully restored body. Everyone at Hogwarts would continue fighting, and one by one, they would die.”

“Don’t make such an ugly face. Since I am here, the future will not develop in that direction.”

But Roger had misunderstood. The real reason Harry looked so terrible was—

“Voldemort is really still alive?!”

Before entering school, Harry had asked Hagrid about Voldemort. At the time, Hagrid had given him an ambiguous answer: some people believed he was dead, others said all sorts of things, but Hagrid believed he was still alive.

Now, the question that had remained unresolved in Harry’s heart had suddenly been confirmed beyond doubt by Roger.

“Of course he’s still alive. And he’s at Hogwarts right now.”

“…”

Harry had received far too much information today. He was beginning to feel numb.

“But you don’t need to worry. With Dumbledore, the other professors, and me here, Voldemort—without his full power—can’t cause much trouble. Just continue attending school in peace.”

As Harry remained silent, he suddenly realized that the world might never have been as simple as he had believed. It was Roger, Dumbledore, and the others who had kept all the storms outside, allowing him to live a peaceful life.

Only now had a corner of the real world been lifted before his eyes.

“All right, you’ve had enough rest, haven’t you? We still have to visit the other professors.”

“Fortunately, your parents were both well-known figures within the school. We should be able to piece together a rough account of their lives here, along with some of what happened after graduation.”

As he spoke, Roger dragged Harry toward the office of the next professor.

* * *

“You’re not going to struggle a little longer?” Roger asked with a smile.

He finished dealing with Harry’s affairs very quickly.

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While Harry was immersed in the stories of his parents’ past that Roger had “borrowed” from the various professors, Roger himself had not been idle.

Aside from his usual magical research, he now had another important task.

He had to continue honoring his agreement with Voldemort. Using Quirrell as a relay, he crossed wands with Voldemort from afar once a week.

At first, Voldemort would still teach Quirrell some magic, in order to determine whether Roger’s prophecy was truly as flawless as it seemed.

But once he confirmed that Roger’s prophecy contained no exploitable weakness, Voldemort stopped teaching Quirrell.

Continuing would serve no purpose beyond making the young prophet more familiar with his methods.

“Perhaps next time.” After today’s battle ended, Voldemort ignored Roger’s continued invitation to fight again.

In truth, Voldemort was not completely without a chance of turning the tables.

He still had one final move.

Voldemort was proficient in all kinds of dark magic, including certain evil rituals that used life as the price for forcibly extracting a wizard’s potential. Perhaps there was still a slim possibility of breaking through by sheer violence.

But this method of staking one’s life against the heavens presented two problems.

First, according to their contract, Voldemort could not directly interfere in the battle. Quirrell would therefore have to arrange the ritual himself and willingly sacrifice his life.

Second, after suffering a setback at the hands of the young prophet, Voldemort had experienced a rare sense of powerlessness.

When he looked back through the Hogwarts library, Voldemort suddenly discovered that, in certain areas, he still had room to improve.

The more he knew, the more keenly he felt his own immaturity.

For the moment, Voldemort was somewhat reluctant to abandon the convenient identity of “Quirrell.”

“All right,” Roger said. He did not press the matter, though he felt a little regretful.

Fighting Quirrell had not only greatly strengthened his experience in combat against wizards, but had also allowed him to test a considerable number of new spells. His mastery of magic had risen to another level as well.

If possible, Roger still wanted to have a few more matches.

The door of the Room of Requirement opened, and the two returned to the tapestry on the eighth floor of Hogwarts before walking in the same direction.

After their battles, they generally went to the library. Naturally, they each read their own books; walking together was merely a matter of convenience.

Today, however, was slightly different. Roger felt that his Alchemical Eye was on the verge of success, and that he was only one step away from achieving rudimentary immortality. Suddenly, he had a question he wanted to ask Voldemort.

“Voldemort.” As he spoke, Roger snapped his fingers and cast a small silencing spell around them.

Quirrell, walking beside him, showed no reaction at all, but Roger knew he was listening.

“If I remember correctly, your goals are infinite life and supreme power, correct?”

“Why?” Voldemort asked through Quirrell.

He was somewhat puzzled as to why the young prophet had suddenly chosen to discuss this with him.

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“Do you truly believe that Horcruxes can grant you eternal life, and that an army of Death Eaters—a ragtag force—can win you supreme power?”

Roger had casually revealed the secret of Horcruxes and referred to the Death Eaters as a ragtag army, but Voldemort showed no particular reaction.

After all, his opponent was a prophet. It was only natural that he knew more than most. Compared with the Saints of Grindelwald, the last great prophet of the wizarding world, the Death Eaters were indeed somewhat inferior in terms of purity.

“For wizards, the flesh is not important. The will is the source of our greatness.”

“The true strength of a Horcrux lies not merely in the fact that it gives me multiple opportunities to resurrect.”

“More importantly, it can inscribe my soul. I can preserve my will from different points in time forever.”

Voldemort did not shy away from the subject. If someone unworthy dared to raise it, he would consider himself insulted and kill them.

But this young prophet was qualified to discuss it with him.

Indeed, Voldemort was somewhat curious to know how Roger, a fellow traveler on the road to immortality, regarded his Horcruxes.

Roger nodded. If one followed his still immature classification of longevity, agelessness, undying existence, and imperishability, then Voldemort had already reached the stage of being undying and completed its initial phase.

His physical body was secondary; his soul would live forever.

His will was engraved; his mind would never age.

His soul was divided and multiplied; even death could give rise to rebirth.

But then—

“What comes next?”

“What do you mean?” Voldemort asked, failing to understand Roger’s question.

“Even at this stage, Horcruxes are still far from deserving to be called eternal life.”

“Do you know that the people in the Department of Mysteries are researching time? Suppose someone were willing to sacrifice their life to travel back several decades and prevent your parents from ever meeting. Wouldn’t you simply vanish? A hundred Horcruxes would be useless.”

Roger looked at Voldemort with a serious expression and voiced the question that had truly been troubling him.

“Your goal is eternal life, and you also intend to undertake something as monumental as ruling the world. Countless wizards will become your enemies, and any kind of attack could be directed at you.”

“Space and time, fate, or even other methods more terrifying still—your path to immortality remains deeply incomplete.”

“Why did you stop after creating your Horcruxes, then rush onto the stage of history without taking another step forward?”

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