I'm the King of Curry at Hogwarts

Chapter 319 The simplest way to deal with Voldemort is through foul language.

As a master duelist, Voldemort would certainly not be fooled by Harry's little tricks. His armor charm was incredibly strong, and the disarming charm only made the armor charm flicker twice.

Having endured the devastation of the Mirror World, Harry was far more formidable than the weak version of Harry in the original story who was utterly helpless against Voldemort. When the spells failed, he unleashed two more Disarming Charms—he had considered dark magic, but given his own situation and magical proficiency, he chose the Disarming Charm, which he was most skilled with.

What's convenient is best; he still remembered Louis's teachings.

Voldemort's cruel red eyes gleamed with bloodlust. He was very satisfied with Harry's fighting prowess. As he used his wand to dispel Harry's spell, he bared his teeth and roared excitedly, "Yes, that's it! That's it! Now you deserve a title similar to mine, the boy who lived!"

He was more eager to subdue Harry, who was quite capable of resisting, than to torture a weakling who couldn't even kill a chicken.

The more Harry resisted, the more excited Voldemort became. As the Dark Lord, he naturally wanted his opponent to be stronger. Killing a defenseless weakling was no honor whatsoever—after all, Harry was a Slytherin, and a rather extreme one at that.

"But you're being very rude, Harry. I remember that you have to bow before a duel!" Voldemort's eyes turned cold as he swung his wand, trying to force Harry to bend over.

Harry instantly cast an Armor Charm followed by a Disarming Charm. Voldemort, quick as a flash, deflected the charms, and the Disarming Charm flew off, this time with bad luck, hitting Crabbe, who was watching nearby. Crabbe screamed as he flew through the air, his body slamming heavily against a tombstone before landing on the ground. He curled up and fell silent.

It must have been incredibly painful.

"The spell's power is impressive, but is that all you've got?!" Voldemort roared, gesturing to stop the Death Eaters who had surrounded him to help. "Get back, all of you! He's mine! Get out of my way!"

Upon hearing Voldemort's words, the Death Eaters reluctantly retreated, and even the twisted monsters stopped around, watching Harry fight the Death Eaters.

"Now it's my turn, Harry. Surrender before me!" Voldemort cackled, "Imperio!"

Suddenly, Harry felt as if his mind had gone blank. This was the first time in his life he had ever felt this way. How blissful! No need to think. He felt like he was floating, like he was dreaming…

"Give in, Harry, you can't defy him... Say it... This is your fate..." A seductive voice seemed to be tempting him in his mind.

But another voice echoed in his mind, much stronger than the one he had just heard.

Tell him, "Fuck you!"

"Give in...this is your fate..."

"Fuck you..."

"Give in...this is your fate..."

"Fuck you!" The words burst from Harry's mouth, echoing in the cemetery, not counting the toast. The dreamlike state vanished abruptly, as if a bucket of cold water had been poured over his head—the pain left by the Crucifixion Curse returned—he became aware of where he was and what lay before him.

Voldemort's expression changed. After he became famous, he was always met with fear and respect wherever he went. But today, for the first time ever, he was insulted, and the insults were so direct and so harsh.

What he found most unacceptable was that the one who was cursing him was such a young boy. The Death Eaters stopped laughing. No matter what, they would not laugh at a boy who had managed to break free from the Imperius Curse personally placed by the Dark Lord.

"You refuse to submit? Harry, not only do you refuse to submit, but you also dare to speak so rudely... I'll teach you the virtue of obedience before you die, and perhaps a little more pain will do?" Voldemort's expression was sinister, as if he wanted to devour Harry completely.

"You will die with regret and humiliation, just like your incompetent father and your Mudblood mother!" Voldemort roared coldly and menacingly.

"At least my father wasn't a Muggle who couldn't even do magic!" Harry retorted loudly. As a key member of the Slytherin team who often engaged in verbal battles, Harry certainly knew what the ultimate form of foul language was, and he simply enjoyed it.

Voldemort's expression changed upon hearing this. He never expected that Harry would have the leisure to insult him.

But Harry's foul mouth goes beyond just that one sentence.

"You say my mother is a Mudblood, but at least she's a wizard, while your father is nothing, just a Muggle!" Harry continued his reckless and self-destructive behavior.

Voldemort was furious. His face was ashen, and he was completely out of control. The Death Eaters around him all lowered their heads and didn't dare to say a word or even look at him, for fear that Voldemort would take his anger out on them.

Voldemort raised his wand, but this time Harry was prepared. With the agility he had honed in Quidditch and the Mirror World, he dove to the side and rolled behind the marble tombstone. The spell missed, but he heard the sound of the tombstone cracking.

"We're not playing hide-and-seek, Harry, and I don't have time for your banter," Voldemort said coldly, his chilling voice drawing ever closer. The Death Eaters stood motionless. "You can't dodge me. Does that mean you're tired of our duel? Do you want it over now, Harry? Come out, Harry… come out and duel… quickly… without pain… I don't know… after all, I've never tasted death…"

Harry huddled behind the tombstone, knowing it was all over. Louis's delayed arrival likely meant he hadn't yet discovered the Goblet of Fire's malfunction. He steeled himself; he wasn't going to get out of there today anyway, so what did it matter if he was left here? He figured, "Death is death, but life is long." He'd enjoy his simple, foul mouth to the fullest first, then worry about everything else. So, leaning against the tombstone, he adopted a rather "Hey, Captain Yamazaki" air: "First of all, we're not that close, Tom. Don't call me Harry directly; I'll think you have some kind of weird fetish… Secondly, you're a complete liar. Are you saying that the dog that got killed by my mother's curse wasn't you?"

Harry was quite calm now. In any case, Voldemort wouldn't let him off the hook, so he might as well just hurl insults. What if he angered Voldemort to the point of injury? Wouldn't that be contributing to the anti-Voldemort cause?

"Despite your sharp tongue, Harry." Voldemort's face was sinister as he unleashed a spell that shot towards the tombstone.

The tombstone exploded, and Harry seized the opportunity to fire an Eye-Burning Curse at Voldemort.

Harry's little trick was no match for Voldemort's. Voldemort sneered as he broke the spell, but unexpectedly, Harry uttered a strange incantation.

"MindBlast!"

Voldemort seemed to have been struck by a heavy hammer, and stood frozen for a moment. But even that brief moment of hesitation was enough; Harry hurled a Purge weapon and continued running towards the next tombstone without looking back.

As a seasoned veteran, Voldemort only momentarily lost his composure before regaining his senses. By the time he removed the disarming charm, Harry had already hidden behind another tombstone.

"Hiding like a coward! Just like your father!" Voldemort laughed cruelly. There were too many tombstones, and he couldn't quite place where Harry was hiding, so he began his mental attack on Harry: "But what good did it do? I eventually broke through the hole and caught that rat, James Potter, and you, you're about to follow in his footsteps!"

Harry, panting, glanced up at the sky. The dark, swirling clouds above were making him feel suffocated. To bolster his spirits, he continued shouting, "That's better than being stuck to the back of someone's head! What are you? Tom? Are you a facehugger or a hermit crab?"

It wouldn't have mattered if he hadn't spoken, but as soon as he did, he revealed his location. Voldemort quickly locked onto him, flicked his wand, and a spell flew out, only to hit a ripple.

"He is indeed a hermit crab, Harry."

A familiar voice rang out, and Harry was pleasantly surprised. He blurted out, "Louis..."

"Aha, sorry to have kept you waiting. Now, leave the rest to us." Louis's figure emerged from the void, accompanied by Sirius Black and Snape.

Upon seeing Snape, Voldemort narrowed his bloodshot eyes and hissed, "Severus... Ha, so you really have betrayed me?"

Snape didn't speak, but instead raised his wand.

"Just because of a woman? Severus? I truly feel sorry for you..." Voldemort continued to provoke Snape when he remained silent: "Do you know how helpless Lily looked in my eyes when I killed her..."

His response was an Avada Kedavra that glowed green.

It seems Snape is truly enraged.

"Professor, you're so cool!" Louis exclaimed, then turned to Harry and the others and said, "Get ready, I'm going to take you back now..."

As he spoke, he began to cast spells with his left hand, using the Transfiguration Charm to turn the surrounding tombstones into stone figures to deal with the Death Eaters. His right hand was not idle either; he first sprinkled some powder to send the enraged Snape back, and then sent Harry and Sirius away.

But they found they didn't have enough furnace ash.

"This isn't the first time we've met, Tom," Louis said calmly, and began to greet Voldemort.

Voldemort stared coldly at him. The Death Eaters around him were all entangled with the Stone Golem and unable to spare any attention, as were the twisted minions. He had heard of this young man's reputation before; some said he was the next Dumbledore, others said he was more terrifying than Dumbledore, and still others said he was actually Grindelwald's successor.

But in any case, the person in front of them should not be underestimated.

"Louis, it's a pleasure to meet you." Voldemort narrowed his crimson eyes, unusually refraining from making a move. "This should be our first formal meeting..."

"Indeed, you were stuck to Quirrell's head last time." Louis began to reminisce about the glorious past: "I still remember the day Draco said I could cast the Ironclad Charm, and you made me go to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom for special training, that poor werewolf... alas..."

As he spoke, Louis let out a crocodile-like sadness.

Voldemort wasn't angry, even though Louis had hit him where it hurt.

"May I call you Tom?" Louis casually asked Voldemort, fiddling with the little gadget in his pocket.

Voldemort smiled noncommittally and looked at Louis, saying, "Actually, I also regret not killing you back then. Otherwise, a danger could have been nipped in the bud."

"But you didn't, Tom. It's getting late, and I think I should head back too." Louis glanced at his watch, rummaged through his storage space for ashes, and earnestly reminded him, "I know you're coming into contact with a powerful force, but I must advise you... to stop, Tom. It's not something you can control..."

"That's none of your concern, Louis. You should worry about your own situation." Voldemort chuckled maliciously and cast a spell at Louis.

Louis acted as if he hadn't seen the spell, letting it strike him. Voldemort, seeing Louis seemingly stunned, burst into maniacal laughter—but soon, he let out a quack like a duck being choked.

The spell struck Louis, but a pale blue halo flashed by, and the spell vanished without a trace.

Louis chuckled and waved at him, then tossed the ashes in his hand and teleported back to the Hogwarts match venue—not forgetting to take the Goblet of Fire with him.

A dizzying sensation washed over him, and when it subsided, he found himself at Hogwarts, sitting in the main seat next to him, with Catherine looking at him with concern.

The moment he appeared, the sounds of music and celebration began, indicating that everyone had returned safely and the band was starting to celebrate. In the stands, Amos Diggory had his arm around Arthur Weasley, both laughing heartily. Amos was pointing at Louis, seemingly saying something.

Louis looked around but couldn't find Harry and the others. Catherine noticed his worry and knelt down to pat his head. "Don't worry, Headmaster Dumbledore took Harry back to his office. Professor Snape and Professor Black are there too."

"That's good..." Louis breathed a sigh of relief and looked at Catherine with concern. "Are you alright? Let me see?"

As he spoke, he reached for Catherine's thigh with his Lushan claw, only to have it slapped away by Catherine in a reproachful manner.

"With so many people around, you're just being indecent, aren't you?" Catherine squinted, adopting a patriarchal demeanor. "Harry said you stayed there, and Aunt Emma was just suggesting we go rescue you."

"Will you go?" Louis asked curiously.

Catherine gave a soft snort, pinching Louis's cheek with her slender fingers: "Even if a little rascal like you lives for ten thousand years, I won't worry about you..."

(End of this chapter)