Hogwarts: I, Tom, am not the Dark Lord

"Think about Snape's character. If he got the Philosopher's Stone, would he share it with you? He wouldn't. He might even kill you to silence you."

"Tell Dumbledore?"

"Let's not talk about whether he will take you seriously. Even if he believes you, I have a way to escape from Hogwarts. I dare not do anything to you here. After I get out, I will definitely take revenge on you. But can you hide in Hogwarts for the rest of your life?"

"And what can Dumbledore offer you?"

"Is it just a meaningless compliment, or a symbolic bonus of some points?"

"These are nothing compared to immortality and endless wealth."

What Quirrell said was well-reasoned and convincing. If it were another inexperienced student, he might have been tempted by it.

Tom was also very tempted, and his eyes were full of desire for money.

"Professor, is everything you said true?"

"of course it's true."

"You said the English don't cheat the English."

"The British don't cheat the British." Quirrell felt there was a chance, and immediately followed up with a guarantee, sneering in his heart.

Who the hell is British like you? I am Welsh!

"Okay then." Tom agreed happily, but immediately looked wary.

"But Professor, I still can't trust you. You must show some sincerity."

Quirrell frowned. "What sincerity? Do you need money?"

Tom waved his hand, perfectly portraying the image of a poor orphan. "Of course I want the money."

"But I also have to lead Slytherin to win the house cup and earn the recognition of those pure-bloods, so that I can have an easier time in the house."

He revealed his ultimate goal: "So, Professor, you shouldn't be so stingy as to give me some useless marks, right?"

Chapter 70: Voldemort's Anger, the Heritage of the Pure-Blood Family

Tom's request was equally reasonable and convincing.

Quirrell is a Ravenclaw graduate, but he also knows how serious the blood discrimination is in Slytherin.

Even though Riddle is a good student in the eyes of his teacher, it doesn't mean that he will be liked by other students.

Winning the college cup is indeed a good way to improve your status in the college.

Children are children, they won't take advantage of such a good opportunity for blackmail.

Quirrell sneered in his heart, but on the surface he admired Tom's idea. He immediately took out a bag of 100 Galleons as hush money and said:

"Even if I'm a professor and I give extra points, I have to give a reason. I can't just give extra points arbitrarily."

"Tom, don't worry. I'll ask you a few more questions in class later, and then the extra points will be justified."

"Thank you, Professor." Tom took the bag of Galleons and suddenly became curious: "Professor, how much does the school pay you per month?"

Quirrell didn't mind revealing this secret. He said, "I make 150 Galleons, which is quite high for an average professor. The Dean makes more than me, but not by much."

One hundred and fifty Galleons is definitely considered a high-paying job in the wizarding world. Ordinary Ministry of Magic employees earn thirty to fifty Galleons, and those in higher positions earn higher. The specific salary depends on the department.

But one hundred and fifty Galleons is definitely a salary at the director level.

Chilo said it so readily to express his appreciation for Tom. I give you most of the money I earn every month. What a good partner you are.

Tom nodded thoughtfully. "Okay, I'll come back next month to get the money."

"'Two-two-zero' is good... huh?"

Quirrell, who had been smiling and nodding, froze. "Tom, what do you mean?"

Tom also looked at him strangely: "Isn't it one hundred Galleons a month?"

"Yes, isn't it?" Quirrell forced a smile and retracted his previous comment on Tom.

This is a fucking vampire!

"Let's go."

Tom waved his hand and left Quirrell's office without taking a single cloud with him, only taking a hundred Galleons.

The moment the door closed, Quirrell's face became as hideous as a demon.

"Let me out!"

Voldemort growled, and Quirrell hurriedly untied his turban and crawled in front of the floor-length mirror.

On the back of his head was Voldemort's terrifying face, which was covered with bruises and scars. It was originally just a little ugly without these scars, but it became like this after being hit by the Bludger.

Not only was he covered in scars, but his nose was also dented, leaving him completely noseless.

Voldemort sneered.

"How many years has it been... How many years has it been since I felt threatened?"

"Master, why didn't you let me do it just now?"

Quirrell remained in a prostrate position and asked in confusion, "Even if we can't kill him in the castle, we can use the Imperius Curse to control him and erase his memory."

Everything that was just said was what Voldemort instructed Quirrell to say. He just didn't understand. He was just a first-year wizard, so why did he need such complicated methods?

"idiot!"

Voldemort cursed: "Didn't you see the Slytherin girl next to you when Riddle called out to you?"

"I know you have bad intentions and something to hide, but I still dare to follow you to the office. Do you really think Riddle is a fool who won't make any preparations?"

"Besides, even if you used the Imperius Curse to control him, with your limited dark magic skills, you would have to cast spells every now and then to maintain the effect."

"Dumbledore is already keeping an eye on you. Riddle, who has frequent contact with you, will definitely reveal some clues. Why can't you use your brain before doing anything?"

Voldemort was so disappointed with Quirrell that he gave him a good lesson. In the past, such a fool was not worthy of being his subordinate, but only his younger brothers, like the two fools following Malfoy.

But now he is so weak that he can only use words to deceive this fool. Even if he is smarter, he may not be able to control him.

But...there was actually another reason why Voldemort didn't think of letting Quirrell use magic to control Tom.

That's Tom's name.

Although Tom's name made him hate it, he changed his own name.

But Tom Riddle is Tom Riddle. As long as he is called by this name, he is a unique existence. Who is Quirrell to be worthy of controlling Tom?

"Keep Riddle steady first. Don't worry about your little money."

Voldemort said absentmindedly, "When I am resurrected, you will be rewarded a thousandfold, and I will personally deal with Riddle. You only have two things to do now. First, find out what those professors have arranged in the corridor on the fourth floor."

"Second, gather the materials I need. I'm too weak to even help you."

Voldemort was weaker than ever before. When Quirrell was hit, 80% of the damage was blocked by him, and his already limited strength was further consumed.

Lately, I've been unconscious for two out of three days, and barely surviving the remaining day.

Quirrell agreed meekly. Even if Voldemort was weak, he would not have the thought of resisting because his life and death were completely in his control.

But he still took the opportunity to complain: "Master, Snape stared at me like a mad dog and had inexplicable hostility towards me, as if I had robbed his house. He was a Death Eater back then, but now he works so hard for Dumbledore."

"Death is the end of all things." Voldemort snorted. "It's not just Snape. After my downfall, how many people have willingly gone to Azkaban? Even if I didn't see it, I know that those pure-blood families surrendered faster than the other."

"But so what? As soon as I regain my strength, they will immediately kneel at my feet and kiss my shoes, Snape is no exception."

"Can I contact him now?" Quirrell asked cautiously, "If he knew that you, my master, were alive and that I was plotting to get the Philosopher's Stone for you, he might become our helper."

"Who told you to act on your own?"

"what!"

Quirrell held his head and screamed, his brain felt like it was being pierced by thousands of silver needles at the same time, causing him to have a splitting headache.

"Just do whatever I tell you to do. Don't try to find shortcuts with your stupid brain. If you can think of something, can't I think of it?"

"Do you think Snape will choose Dumbledore or me, who is so weak that he is not even a human being? Without me, you are a useless waste who can accomplish nothing. But Snape is the master of potions. He can thrive no matter who he follows. How can he be the same as me, a waste!"

Quirrell cried bitterly and begged for a long time before he was forgiven by Voldemort.

On the other side, Tom returned to the dormitory in a happy mood with the unexpected fortune of one hundred Galleons.

"Is there anything to eat? The waffles this morning were too hard for my liking. I'm not full."

The roommates who were playing Crackling Explosion immediately threw away the cards and started rummaging through the drawers. Soon Tom's desk was filled with snacks.

The three of them stared at each other, forming a stable triangle.

The dispute over persimmons has always been like this: you eat more of yours, and I have less to eat of mine.

Then how can I get Tom's appreciation?

Don't think they are timid here. Outside, relying on Tom's reputation, there is no first-year student who is not afraid of them, well, except for Greengrass.

Even senior students don't dare to order them around, which is a good thing.

In a few years, when they become seniors, the benefits...will be even greater.

So the three Shabinis were basically holding a dog licking competition to see who could lick Tom more comfortably.

While eating potato chips, Tom came to the crucible in the corner, looked at the potion being boiled inside, and nodded with satisfaction.

"Yes, Blaise, this pot of energy potion is basically successful."

Zabini smiled excitedly.

Tom had taught him how to brew the energy potion a month ago. After failing four or five times, he finally succeeded now.

But even so, he was still proud of it, as this was an advanced potion that even fifth and sixth graders might not be able to master.

Nott and Rozier looked at each other and saw the helplessness in each other's eyes.

Other things can be compared, but this one really can't be compared.

Zabini is both talented and interested in potions, so he is willing to spend time and money on it. The other two have neither interest nor ability, so there is no way they can compete with Zabini in this regard.