Hogwarts: What are the four great masters doing?

"Don't try to be so friendly, just tell me! Where did the Philosopher's Stone come from... This stone?!"

"Meow!"

"Well - please sign more slowly... I'm not Professor McGonagall, I don't understand cat accent!"

Ryan, who could only communicate with the white cat by guessing, could barely understand what the cat was gesturing.

"mouse?"

"You said you got the Philosopher's Stone from a strange mouse..."

Friday's words made the Lord Chancellor a little angry.

"Do you think I'm a fool?"

...

"Do you think I'm a fool?"

Outside of Hogwarts, in a dark and deep corner.

This is part of Hogwarts' complex sewer system - it is actually located outside the castle, but is connected to the castle.

It is the blind spot of Hogwarts.

And in this dark corner.

Voldemort's ugly, pathetic soul was roaring in anger.

"Wormtail - perhaps I should cast a Cruciatus Curse on you... that would make you tell the truth, eh?"

"Master... Master... I... I..."

And in front of Voldemort's soul.

Peter Pettigrew, who had lost both arms, was fat, ugly and dirty, and was kneeling on the ground.

He ignored the dirtiness of the sewer floor and put his head on the ground, with snot and tears streaming down his face.

"I speak the truth, my Lord... How dare I deceive you, the great Dark Lord?"

"Crucio!"

But it was obvious that Voldemort had no intention of listening to his explanation.

As the Cruciatus Curse was chanted, Peter Pettigrew screamed in pain.

"Ahhh!"

He twisted in pain and his body twitched violently.

Voldemort, who had lost his body again, looked at this scene and smiled a twisted and complacent smile.

"A cat that can transform into a monster stole the Philosopher's Stone... Wormtail - your incompetence doesn't surprise me, but your lies are as lame as a stupid troll's!"

"Are you underestimating your master's vision? Do you think that offering your own two hands and inventing an impossible magical creature will make you more valuable? No, it won't!"

He said grimly: "Failure itself is worthless."

Then, he seemed to want to chant the spell again: "But considering your hard work this year, I will give you a chance - offer your body to me, like Quirinus... meet your glorious end!"

His words made Peter Pettigrew's screams and thrusts even more intense.

But his strong desire to survive actually made him beg for mercy under the torture of the Cruciatus Curse: "No...Ahhhhh...Master...Don't..."

Throughout this semester, he, in the form of a mouse, was responsible for communicating with Voldemort, who was possessed by Quirrell, in the corner, and it was he who threw the portkey on the Quidditch field.

He witnessed with his own eyes what happened to Quirrell and the changes he had undergone in the past year.

He saw how that pitiful soul decayed step by step and eventually died.

And the cowardly Peter Pettigrew...he has always been the one who fears death the most!

But it was clear that Voldemort had no intention of changing his mind.

After experiencing Quirrell's body, he found it difficult to bear to return to the wandering state he had been in for more than ten years.

He longed for a brand new body!

But at this moment...

"Oh, perhaps you shouldn't rush—the great Lord Voldemort."

"The magic power gained from unicorn blood is priceless. It would be a waste to waste it on teaching a lesson to one's own servants."

A voice came out.

It was a young, confident, gentle and charming voice.

"In any case, this plan has failed."

"They already know about your possession of Quirrell. With Dumbledore's wisdom, he should have also noticed my existence... It will obviously be difficult for us to move around the school through possession again, and it will be even more difficult to obtain the Philosopher's Stone - oh, it's almost impossible. Dumbledore will definitely send it back to Nicolas Flamel."

"We need to find another suitable powerful magic source to serve as the material for your resurrection. In this case, Mr. Pettigrew is obviously still valuable."

His words caused Voldemort to stop casting the spell, and Peter Pettigrew was able to temporarily escape from his pain.

He gasped for air, breathing greedily.

Voldemort looked in the direction where the sound came from.

There, there was a pitch-black diary.

"Are you ordering me?"

Voldemort said dangerously.

The voice in the diary remained gentle and sincere: "Oh, of course not...it's just a suggestion."

"You know I can't be disrespectful to you—after all... I'm a part of your noble soul, right?"

"We are one."

He obviously knows how to communicate with people.

"Very good...So do you have any new ideas?"

At least after he said this, Voldemort's dangerous look disappeared a little.

"I mean, the kind that's valuable."

"Of course, the great Voldemort."

Diary said softly.

"I believe you still remember that secret room. That's where your legendary destiny began."

"The heirs of the Four Great Masters have returned to the castle. That secret room...the real one, should be opened soon."

His voice seemed full of bewitching power.

"Do you know what's in there?"

At least after hearing this, the magic power in Voldemort's soul, which had turned into a wandering spirit, was clearly swaying.

"Very well, continue."

It was obvious - he was very moved.

"I have an idea, but I need some help."

"Pure-blood family?"

"No, of course it can't be them - they are too ignorant, too stupid, and perhaps Dumbledore has discovered them."

The diary said calmly.

"We need new helpers, more capable and loyal helpers."

Then, Voldemort's hideous smile became even more intense.

"Oh, I do have a loyal servant... He bears the noble mark, so I know where he is..."

He said proudly.

"Then you might have to go there in person... You know, only you have such powerful magic that can remain undetected..."

The diary said respectfully.

"Of course, I'll go find him myself."

Voldemort readily agreed.

His soul floated upwards and quickly passed through the sewer pipes - this was the only advantage of becoming a wandering soul, at least he was not bound by material things.

"But this time, your idea had better work... You should know my patience is limited, especially when it comes to failure."

As soon as the words fell, Voldemort's soul disappeared without a trace.

"of course."

But the voice in the diary remained loyal and respectful: "I am sure... this plan will succeed."

The words fell.

There was no response—Voldemort was already far away.

"Huh...huh..."

At this moment, Peter Petillo, who seemed to have finally come back to life, also seemed to come to his senses.

He struggled to crawl to the front of the diary with his remaining two feet.

"Oh, thank you... great master..."

He bowed down and said: "Your mercy is beyond words, your loyal servant swears to you..."

"Oh, don't say that, Peter."

But at this moment, the words in the diary were very calm.

"You know, you have never been loyal - your so-called loyalty is only out of fear... The great Voldemort could not see this, but I am different."

He gently and directly pointed out the nature of Peter's allegiance.

When he mentioned the words 'the great Voldemort', there seemed to be a sneer in his words.

But then...