บท 3: Three people in a boat
"I do not believe in higher powers!" exclaimed the one who had attempted to take the life of a child based solely on a prophecy. Voldemort gnashed his teeth in frustration. In the real world, he would have cast the Avada Kedavra spell at this insolent man long ago. However, the extradimensional sorcerer was correct when he stated that it was futile to engage in conflict in the realm of logic.
Nevertheless, the Dark Lord had been fortunate to be discovered in that remote location by the simpleton Quirrell. He did not wish to lose such a valuable vessel simply because of the words of another sorcerer. Moreover, based on his emotional state, it appeared that the man himself was unhappy to be there.
"Gentlemen, obsession is not a pleasant state for the body due to the clash of two souls, and we are even more than two here. Therefore, if we wish to accomplish our objectives, we must collaborate. For any conflict within these confines," Grimm gestured around the space, "will cause this fragile vessel to founder before it reaches its destination.
Mr. Quirrell, I have no intention of interfering with your plans so long as they do not endanger my safety. In fact, I would be happy to assist you if it expedites my departure from your esteemed company.
Voldemort regarded his interlocutor with a thoughtful gaze. He still harbored doubts that this sorcerer had been brought to this place by some supernatural entity, yet the man did not seem particularly hostile. The Dark Lord attempted to delve into his mind, but mental defenses deflected his probe.
Subsequently, Grimm declared that if another attempt at telepathic intrusion were made, it would be perceived as an act of aggression, rendering any further discussion of cooperation futile. Voldemort mused that, after all, an ally is preferable to an adversary. However, he remained ignorant of the man's identity beyond his name.
"Mr. Quirrell," he addressed the sorcerer, "are you not concerned about chilling your kidneys?" His irritation was directed at the magician who had refrained from intervening in their debate earlier. "Might you deign to relocate from this damp woodland to a more agreeable location?"
«You are correct», the erstwhile professor of Muggle Studies nodded, and vanished into thin air, though his presence lingered in the atmosphere.
As soon as Quirrell departed, Voldemort cast a soundproof shield and pointed his wand at the Grim.
«What do you know of the prophecy?» Voldemort hissed, his eyes transforming into two slits. «You have attacked the wrong person!»
«Take your time, my Lord», the wizard responded, perfectly replicating Voldemort's hiss in tone, moving closer to him, noting with irritation that he was a full head shorter than his adversary.
"As you can see, I am a Grim, and I am aware of the prophecy," he continued. "I also know the details of your birth and death. Who do you think I am?"
Robert observed how Voldemort's pupils gradually dilated, indicating that it was crucial to continue the deception.
"Quite so, my lady assumes various forms, and why should her emissaries be limited to canine guises?" Grimm portrayed the most predacious grin he was capable of mustering. "No matter how far you flee from her, sire, sooner or later, you will encounter her. My lady has infinite patience. Even Nicholas Flamel, inventor of the philosopher's stone, will eventually come to her. Even the Peverell brothers fell prey to her. Thus, your games with Horcruxes merely anger her," Voldemort sank slowly into the chair that materialized from the void, and Grimm was inwardly elated: if you wish to defeat an adversary, play upon their fears.
"Believe me, your actions are only making matters worse for you. By tearing your soul apart, you are tearing your consciousness asunder, and as a consequence, instead of becoming a great and terrifying sorcerer, you will degenerate into an unbalanced and uncritical psychopath, far removed from the ruler of the world.
You are playing with fire, Mr. Riddle, and it could easily consume you. I saw the sparks of anger ignite in the wizard's eyes, and I realized it was time for me to change my approach.
"Please note: Grindelwald was also known as the Dark Lord. Have you any idea what brought about the demise of your predecessor? It was his excessive self-confidence. Would you like to know what will bring about your downfall? Voldemort shook his head in response. "That's right, it's best not to know your fate; otherwise, it will become a certainty."
"What kind of game are we playing?" the voice of the dark magician sounded muffled and distant.
"A game?" Grimm sat down on the edge of the table, deep in thought. "You are right. I have been granted the power to rewrite the plot of this drama, and I intend to elevate your significance to a new level, so that you can fully live up to your title. The Dark Lord may sound proud, but a powerful figure such as yourself should not only have servants, but also advisors. Thus, I have taken on this role. Are you in agreement with me?"
"And what benefit is it to me?" The Dark Lord appeared suspicious, clearly unwilling to accept the proposal without hesitation.
Grimm raised an eyebrow in a rather irritated manner, already displeased that he had been tasked with persuading a bookish villain to join the big leagues.
"Your entire guard is in front of Dumbledore, the Ministry, and the Aurora — half are in jail, and half have barely paid off due to your mark," the wizard said, and at these words the lord visibly ground his teeth, though the wizard did not seem to care. "Quirrell and I are off the grid, let it remain that way — we can operate in secret without drawing too much attention to ourselves. But I'm an outsider — your enemies won't be able to anticipate my actions, so when they figure out our plans, it'll be too late."
"Will they figure out the plans?" the lord asked, nostrils flaring with anger.
"My lord, well, you know that seizing power isn't a one-sided game. The enemy won't sit idly by — they'll take action too. Our goal is to stay ahead of them by leaps and bounds."
Voldemort mused. On the one hand, the wizard had spoken correctly, but on the other...
"I will accept your assistance, but only upon the condition of an oath of fealty," the man stipulated.
Grimm shook his head. "My lord, I regret to inform you that my lady, the one who brought me here, would not permit me to swear such an oath. My existence is in her keeping. You must take my word."
The Dark Lord pondered. To bring someone unbound by vows closer to one's side meant exposing oneself to vulnerability. However, this wizard had already demonstrated a depth of knowledge beyond what he professed, and the power behind him commanded respect. The risk was considerable, but... having Grim as an ally was preferable to an enemy.
"Very well. I concede. And I am willing to place my trust in you. After all, victory comes with risk."
"I wholeheartedly concur with you, my liege," Grimm extended his hand towards Voldemort, who reciprocated the gesture. "Well, are you prepared to ascend to the summit?"
***
Having assumed a corporeal form, the Dark Lord aspired to return to beloved England as swiftly as possible. Upon examining the memories of his newly acquired servant, he rejoiced at the revelation that Quirrell, a former professor at Hogwarts, had been in Dumbledore's good graces, making it easier to gain entry into the castle. Furthermore, it was rumored that Harry Potter would be attending this year.
Mr. Grimm, having listened to Voldemort's plans, merely nodded in agreement, for he himself harbored a fascination with delving into the legends of the wizarding world firsthand. The return to the premier institution of magic in the United Kingdom proceeded with minimal hiccups. Dumbledore, delighted by the arrival of a new professor, inquired about his travels around the globe. However, upon hearing of the vacancy, Dumbledore shook his head in dismay.
"Professor Quirrell," I said, "you have been away for a full year now, and I could not keep the Muggle Studies position vacant for so long. Mrs. Burbage performs her duties admirably, and I am loath to part with her services.
If you truly wish to return to Hogwarts, the only position I can offer is that of Professor of Divination. Moreover, Mr. Hornfield has informed me that he will not be teaching next year due to family obligations. Can you accept this challenge?"
Quirinus appeared hesitant, and but for a mental nudge from the Dark Lord, it would have been difficult for him to respond.
"As you are aware, I have passed the Defence exam with distinction," Quirinus commenced timidly. However, encouraged by the voice and guidance of Grimm, he began to speak with greater confidence. "Indeed, during my journey, I encountered a remarkable number of perilous creatures of the dark. There are yet five months before the commencement of the school term, and if you question my abilities, Mr. Dumbledore," Quirrell gave a slight twitch of his chin at these words, "I am prepared to undertake the qualifying examination in this field at the Ministry."
"Oh, there is no need for that, my friend," the headmaster waved his hand dismissively. "The most important thing is that your confidence is intact. Return in a month's time, and we shall conclude a formal agreement then."
Quirrell departed for a brief period and, upon leaving Hogwarts, Apparated to his residence at the junction of Horizontal Alley and Karkitt Market. There, he intended to discuss their future plans with the Nobleman.
"I think it would be prudent to investigate the Ministry, specifically the Department of Magical Law Enforcement," I suggested.
"Why?" Lord Voldemort and Professor Quirrell inquired in unison.
"Firstly, we need your wand, My Lord. If one of your followers did not take it, it is likely in the Evidence Department. Most likely, your remains after disembodiment will also be there if there is anything left. Your remains will be essential for the resurrection ritual, but we cannot remain in the same form forever.
"Pettigrew likely took the wand," the Dark Lord mused, "but it is not a bad idea regarding the remains. We must also interview the head of the department. Who heads the department now?"
"Madam Bones," Quirrell commenced, riffling through the stacks of newspapers dating back to the 1980s. The library at Horizontal Alley boasted an impressively comprehensive archive, and he spent his leisure hours there, only venturing home for sleep — having served as the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement since 1982. He had been a member of the Wizengamot since 1977, and was regarded as one of the finest witches of his time, with a particular prowess in dueling.
However, the bulk of the dog-nipping had occurred in 1981.
"Yes, Barty Crouch was still in charge back then," said Quirrell, catching Grimm's train of thought and switching to older newspaper articles. "He had already been promised the position of Minister for Magic, but his own son was on trial. Along with Bellatrix, Rabastan, and Rodolphus Lestrange, Crouch had been accused of torturing the obscurantist couple, Frank and Alice Longbottom, driving them to madness. The magical community was appalled by the brutality of the crime. Crouch himself presided over the trial, at the end of which he renounced his son in public," he read from a lengthy article.
"We need to question Crouch. I think he could tell us a great deal of interesting information," suggested Grimm.
The wizards agreed. There was much work to be done, and now that they knew where to start, the Dark Lord and his associates could begin to formulate a more coherent plan.
สถานะพลังงานรายสัปดาห์
-- การจัดอันดับด้วยพลัง 
-- หินพลัง