Hogwarts : this dark lord is so evil

Chapter 11: Voldemort, Don't You Pay Attention to the Occasion When You Speak?

The Orphanage was quite far from the Leaky Cauldron—so far, in fact, that it made the journey feel endless.

However, both Voldemort and Jacob were short on money, so they had no choice but to walk all the way to the area where the Leaky Cauldron was located.

By this time, they had changed out of the orphanage's uniform robes, each wearing an old, second-hand jacket. Voldemort also wore a newsboy cap that was a bit too big for him. Naturally, these were all donated clothes, as neither of them had the money to buy new ones.

"I think maybe we should have asked Mrs. Cole for some money so we could take a ride or something," Voldemort suggested after more than an hour of walking, clearly exhausted.

Jacob shot him a glare. "Have you forgotten that we snuck out this morning? And if I recall correctly, it was your idea."

"Hmph… I just didn't feel like explaining everything to her." Voldemort bent down to rub his legs. "Besides, you didn't object, did you?"

"I didn't object because I had my reasons," Jacob said. Then, suddenly placing a hand on Voldemort's shoulder, he whispered, "Don't look back—just keep walking."

"What's wrong?" Voldemort asked, puzzled.

"Haven't you noticed? Someone is following us," Jacob replied calmly.

"What? Who?"

"Don't look back, Voldemort. Just follow me." Jacob suddenly turned into a narrow alley, pulling Voldemort along with him.

Still confused, Voldemort followed Jacob and hid in a corner.

"Seriously, who's following us?" Voldemort asked again, frowning.

"I'd guess they're human traffickers," Jacob said. "After all, a handsome little boy like you would fetch a high price."

Voldemort scoffed. "Oh, and they're not after you? You're so pretty that even the old cat at the orphanage gave you your own special room."

"Shh…" Jacob motioned for silence.

At that moment, a man and a woman entered the alley.

The man was tall and broad-shouldered, dressed like a manual laborer. The woman had her face wrapped tightly with a scarf, obscuring her features.

"Where did they go?" the man asked gruffly.

"I just saw them turn in here," the woman responded in a hoarse voice.

"This alley's a dead end. Once they came in, there's no way they got out," the man said as he scanned the area with sharp, predatory eyes.

The woman followed closely behind, pulling a dirty handkerchief from her pocket. As she walked, she sprinkled something from a brown glass bottle onto the cloth.

Voldemort peeked through a crack in the wall and frowned.

"I don't get it. We just passed some police officers on patrol—why didn't we go to them? If we'd walked past them, these two wouldn't have dared to follow us! Why did we turn into a dead end instead?"

Jacob looked at Voldemort in mock shock. "Oh my God! Voldemort, going to the police when he's in danger?! Where's the Voldemort who once broke a kid's nose with a rusty fire poker over a disagreement?"

Voldemort shot Jacob a glare. "I just wasn't sure if my magic could handle him. He's too strong… It's not like I'm afraid of him."

Jacob smirked. "Oh, sure. I totally believe you." He patted Voldemort's shoulder as if comforting him.

"I SAID I'M NOT AFRAID!" Voldemort's neck veins bulged with frustration.

"Oh, of course. How could the great Lord Voldemort be afraid of a mere Muggle?" Jacob teased. "Alright then, you take care of the woman, and I'll handle the man."

"You bastard! That's not what I meant at all!"

Voldemort was livid. Leaving the woman to him while Jacob fought the man? That was as good as saying he was scared!

"Voldemort, why are you so angry? I'm agreeing with everything you're saying," Jacob said, smirking.

"You—! Ugh, you're infuriating!"

Their argument grew louder and louder, inevitably catching the attention of the man and woman.

"Aha! There you are, little brats!" the man exclaimed gleefully.

The alley was a dead end, meaning their prey had nowhere to run.

"Haha, come with us. We'll take you somewhere nice to eat," the woman cooed, looking at Voldemort and Jacob as if they were sacks of gold.

Two unaccompanied, good-looking boys? It was as if money had fallen into their laps!

The greedy, predatory looks on their faces made Voldemort sick to his stomach.

And then, all of a sudden, something inside him snapped.

"GET AWAY FROM ME, YOU FILTHY SCUM!"

Voldemort roared in anger.

BOOM!

The man and woman were instantly hurled backward, as if an invisible carriage had slammed into them!

Jacob's eyes gleamed as he observed from behind.

So, emotions really are the key to enhancing magic's power…

Looks like all my effort to provoke him was worth it.

Voldemort, meanwhile, stared at his own hands in disbelief, clearly astonished by the power he had just unleashed. Then, slowly, he turned his gaze toward Jacob.

A dangerous glint flickered in his eyes.

At that moment, the woman lay unconscious on the ground, while the man struggled to his feet, his face pale with terror.

With a look of pure fear, he turned and tried to flee toward the alley's entrance—only to freeze in place, completely motionless, as if turned to stone.

Jacob stepped out from behind Voldemort, shaking his head.

"Don't lose focus in a fight, Voldemort."

Voldemort glanced at the petrified man, the confidence he had gained from his earlier display of power suddenly wavering.

No… I still can't beat Jacob…

Not yet. I can't let him become my enemy now.

"We should go," Voldemort said curtly. "We've wasted enough time."

"Not so fast," Jacob replied, walking up to the frozen man.

He snapped his fingers.

Immediately, the man's head regained movement, but the rest of his body remained as rigid as a statue.

"You… You monsters! Demons! Please, spare me! I don't want to die!" the man sobbed in terror.

"Shut up, or I'll make sure you stay like this forever," Jacob said coldly.

The man clamped his mouth shut.

When he was petrified, he had been fully conscious, able to feel everything but completely unable to move—a terrifying experience he never wanted to relive.

Jacob leaned in slightly. "Now, tell me—where's your hideout? Who's in charge? How many children have you taken? And… where do you keep your money?"

Voldemort suddenly understood.

"Ohhh… You want to rob the thieves."

Jacob grinned. "I prefer to call it doing a good deed."

"Bullshit. If you just wanted to save people, why are you asking about the money? You're obviously just robbing them."

Jacob sighed dramatically. "Voldemort… do you have to call me out like this? Have some sense of occasion."

(End of Chapter)