I'm the King of Curry at Hogwarts

Chapter 124 Cassandra: My father gave her a reason she couldn't refuse.

Riddle shrugged, indicating that you were right, that you were absolutely right.

What's that saying? When you're under someone else's low eaves, you have to bow your head.

However, after careful consideration, Riddell also felt that Louis's words made a lot of sense.

He had already developed a sense of self, so he would never willingly be swallowed up by the subject.

Self-awareness and the generation of consciousness are two concepts that may seem similar, but the fundamental difference between the former and the latter lies in the different concepts of "I".

The author of the diary now clearly believes that he himself should be the true self of Voldemort, and naturally, Voldemort's true self becomes his enemy.

"In a few days, I'll need your help with some minor matters." Louis flicked his finger and tapped the table lightly. "Do your best, Cube. If you perform well enough, within a year, I'll have this 'powerful lady' materialize for you—an even more powerful entity, far stronger than a human, with a sufficiently vigorous life force."

Yes, Louis was referring to the Dragon People.

Every adult dragon must learn how to create dragon people.

Riddle's thoughts were immediately captured—he dreamed of having a long-lived entity.

"How will you prove that you won't lie to me!" Riddle's voice, as well as his expression, was filled with urgency.

"Whether you believe it or not is your own problem." Louis didn't bother to prove anything. From the perspective of strength, he didn't need to prove anything to Riddle, this little shrimp. "You should be able to feel this lady's power. If you don't cooperate and refuse to work with us, then I can only express my regret."

After much deliberation, Riddle had no choice but to reluctantly believe Louis.

There was nothing he could do; the current situation left him no choice.

He was about to say something when a knock came at the door.

Louis tapped his notebook, signaling him to hide for a while.

Riddle twisted his body and disappeared into the diary.

Seeing that Riddle had concealed himself, Louis cleared his throat and said, "Come in."

The door opened, and there was Draco.

He was holding a newspaper in his hand, looking very hurried.

"What's wrong?" Louis asked.

Draco didn't speak. He first gave a brief greeting to the three ladies, then, with a grim expression, shoved the newspaper in his hand into Louis's hand.

It's the Daily Prophet.

The content above wasn't very friendly. Louis glanced through it and it was basically Rita Skeeter insulting Dumbledore as a senile old man, Louis as a nepotism hire, and the entire Hogwarts as insane for letting a second-year student like Louis compete against the world-renowned adventurer and author Gilderoy Lockhart in a teaching contest.

Anyway, what he said was sarcastic, sarcastic, and very unpleasant.

Louis's face immediately darkened.

"What to do, Louis? That woman... she's really awful." Draco cursed bitterly, "I wish I could turn her into a fly so she could buzz around other people's ears all day long, just as she wants."

"It's alright, I'll go talk to her," Louis said with a light laugh, glancing subtly at the diary on the table beside him.

"Looking for her?" Draco was taken aback. "Are you kidding me, Louis? This Rita Skeeter is notoriously difficult to deal with, and she keeps claiming that she won't be threatened by any evil forces and will insist on speaking out for love and justice in the wizarding world..."

Draco was very anxious, fearing that Louis would be rebuffed if he went over there.

"It's alright, Draco." Louis chuckled and patted his shoulder, glancing at the bookshelf beside him. "I'll give her a reason she can't refuse."

"A reason you can't refuse? Uh..." Draco was stunned.

After seeing Draco off, Louis started wondering where he should put the diary.

After thinking for a long time, it was indeed safe enough to give it to Christa, but Riddle was a male after all, and it wasn't appropriate for him to enter the girls' dormitory.

I was worried about giving it to Draco... Oh right, what's there to worry about? Anyway, Riddle's diary can't be used for anything anymore, so I might as well just give it to Draco.

So Louis had Tom deliver the diary to Draco...

It can be considered a return to its rightful owner, after all, it was left at Flourish and Blotts by his father, Lucius.

Lying in bed with nothing to do, Louis started clicking on the task panel to check the task progress.

After submitting the quest, the fire skill tree appeared before his eyes.

Fireball, Flame Burst, Dragon Breath, and Living Bomb form a synergy, with the ultimate skill on this synergy being Meteor.

On the left are Fire Resistance Ring, Flame Body, and Flame Barrier. The ultimate skill following these three skills is Fire Shield.

Unlike the electric magic skill tree, the fire magic skill tree has four separate skills below it.

Mastery of fierce fire, mastery of karmic fire, mastery of sinful fire, mastery of mad fire.

"Is this 'maniacal fire' really something?" Louis's lips twitched slightly.

I wonder if Melina will cry and beg me if I fix the Mad Fire.

Stop acting crazy here!

However, fire-type skills at least look pretty good. Louis is now a bit hesitant about whether to train electric skills first or fire skills first.

Thinking it over, he added one of the skill points he received as a bonus to Chain Lightning...

It's worth mentioning that his lightning spell had already reached level ten.

After lying down for a while, Louis asked Tom to prepare paper and pen. He pondered for a moment at his desk and wrote a letter that he thought was impeccably worded, which he then had Emery deliver to Rita Skeeter.

He also enclosed a check for one thousand gallons as a small gift.

The next morning, news that Louis had led a troop in a slow jog around Hogwarts Castle spread throughout the entire Hogwarts.

In the Defense Against the Dark Arts office, Lockhart looked out the window at the advancing formation and scoffed, "What a joke! What kind of training can they possibly produce? I bet he's trying to turn the students into escape artists!"

Tifa watched Louis downstairs from the side, ignoring her brother's words, and instead looked at the formation downstairs with a solemn expression.

She did not look down on Louis because of his youth; on the contrary, she was extremely cautious about the unusual Louis.

Dumbledore could never be senile, which means that Louis is no ordinary person either.

She planned to find an opportunity to find out Louis's true abilities and see what this little guy was really capable of.

Knowing yourself and your enemy is the key to victory in every battle.

At lunchtime, an owl delivered a reply. Indeed, Rita Skeeter had decisively rejected Louis's request and returned the 1,000 gallons check.

According to her, the Daily Prophet will not be pressured from any direction, nor will it yield to any power.

In short, with her righteous and awe-inspiring demeanor, Louis might actually be fooled if he didn't know what kind of person she was.

To prevent the woman from spouting any more nonsense, Louis decided to go to the editorial office of the Daily Prophet himself—not by himself, but with Mr. Riddle in tow.

In the English wizarding world, who doesn't know who Mr. Riddle is, let alone a wizard of Rita Skeeter's age, who even knows exactly what Mr. Riddle looks like?

What's somewhat comforting is that Riddle in this diary can also transform into the adult form of Voldemort.

After consulting with Headmaster Dumbledore, Lewis took his diary to the Daily Prophet in preparation for a friendly conversation with Rita Skeeter.

"We should at least have an open and honest talk," Louis thought leisurely. It seemed that his previous offer of 1,000 Galleons was not enough to show his sincerity.

Since that's the case, then let's make sure Ms. Skeeter feels our sincerity.

……

Twenty-five years later, at Hogwarts.

"Hey, Cassandra!" A girl in the distance called out excitedly to a blonde girl who was sitting on a bench reading a newspaper.

The blonde girl was very beautiful; she had inherited all the best features from her parents. She looked as noble, elegant, and reserved as a swan, but her words were as harsh as a crow's.

"Red Squirrel Number Two..." Cassandra narrowed her long, narrow eyes. "Looks like you've had a good summer at home. I doubt Aunt Hermione cooked for you, right?"

"My name is Rose! Rose Weasley! Not Red Squirrel Number Two!" Rose corrected him patiently, but there was no anger in her tone.

"Okay, Red Squirrel Number Two," Cassandra said without looking up, continuing to browse the Daily Prophet's Journal in her hands.

Rose didn't show any displeasure; instead, she leaned closer and asked, "Wow... you're so focused! What are you looking at?"

"The Daily Prophet," Cassandra replied emotionlessly, then added mercilessly, "If Aunt Hermione had ever cared about your education, you would know these words."

"Hehe..." Rose grinned foolishly, just like her father Ron when he was a child. She knew that she should only take Cassandra's words half-truths.

This is a habit she developed from childhood; she has long since formed a language filtering system against Cassandra's sharp tongue.

"Ah... The Daily Prophet..." Rose seemed to remember something: "Oh right, Cassandra, can you tell me about Uncle Louis's story? I heard that Rita Skeeter and Uncle Louis had a little grudge? But it seems that since 1992, the Daily Prophet has never published any negative news about Uncle Louis. What's going on?"

She grabbed Cassandra's arm, her big, watery eyes blinking as she looked at Cassandra. Her endearing appearance was exactly like her father's, who always acted like a child towards her mother. Cassandra couldn't bear to look at her.

It's all my fault. I carelessly let slip some stories about her father—Louis, who has long since become the Lord of the World's Magic Network—in front of my childhood friends. As a result, this little girl has been holding a grudge against me and keeps pestering me for the stories whenever she gets the chance.

Cassandra had a headache. She put down the newspaper in her hand, stared at Rose with her emerald eyes, and sighed helplessly, "Alright, I'll reluctantly tell you then."

"The first time, my father sent Amoris with a letter and a check for a thousand gallons, but Rita Skeeter refused it."

"The second time, my father went to see her in person. In less than an hour, she was like a different person. She had no objections at all and obediently said that she would never write any negative reports about my father again. She didn't ask for a single Galleon and also obediently signed a contract, agreeing that the Daily Prophet would be completely managed by the Mountbatten family from now on."

"Huh?" Rose looked intrigued. "How did Uncle Louis manage that? I heard from Mom that she's a very difficult woman to deal with."

"My father gave her a reason she couldn't refuse." Cassandra pulled out a newspaper, ready to continue browsing the short stories.

"What's the reason... just tell me." Rose rubbed against Cassandra's arm.

Cassandra finally gave in to Rose's insistence and said helplessly, "My father took Mr. Riddle to the Daily Prophet's office, and Mr. Riddle pointed his wand at her head and gave her two choices."

"Either stop smearing my father, and the Mountbatten family will take over the management of the Daily Prophet from now on."

She paused at this point.

"And the other one?" Rose sounded excited.

"Another option is that she can continue to smear my father, and Voldemort will use the Avada Kedavra curse on her. After all, Riddle was still a fugitive at the time, and even if he killed her, no one could stop him."

"Cool..." Rose's big eyes were full of longing. She clasped her hands in front of her chest like a lovesick girl, her eyes sparkling. "So cool! I wish I could marry a man like Uncle Louis someday."

"You're such a fangirl," Cassandra scoffed.

"I heard Uncle Louis and Aunt Catherine went on another trip... They have such a good relationship..." Rose clasped her hands to her heart, deliberately bringing up the very thing she didn't want to talk about.

The newspaper in Cassandra's hand made a cracking sound, and Rose noticed that her hand seemed to be gripping the newspaper with great force, even her knuckles were slightly white.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Rose, with her innocent and adorable demeanor, asked.

"Don't mention that woman to me!" Cassandra's voice was cold.

"Who is it?" Rose clearly didn't understand what was going on.

"That woman who took over Daddy's life! Unforgivable..." Cassandra said through gritted teeth, her other eye flashing with lightning, as if she really wanted to fight her mother.

Perhaps the women of the Worley family were all born to be at odds with their mother; Catherine was like that, and so were her daughters.

"Shame on you, you're so old and still can't be separated from your dad." Rose made a face and gave Catherine a knowing look. "Hehehe, shameless."

Cassandra didn't speak; she stared blankly into the distance, lost in thought, and no one knew what she was thinking.

(End of this chapter)