Hogwarts : this dark lord is so evil

Chapter 12: When You're Out, You Give Yourself an Identity!

Voldemort and Jacob hid in a dark corner, observing a small, well-kept house not far ahead. The house had a neatly trimmed garden in front, indicating that the people living there were not short on money.

According to the information they had gathered, the other kidnapped children were locked inside.

Voldemort pulled his old jacket tighter around himself and grumbled, "I still don't understand why we're delaying our trip to Diagon Alley just for money!"

"I already told you—it's not about the money," Jacob replied, annoyed.

He was doing this to earn merit by doing good deeds. The fact that they'd also be taking the traffickers' money was just a bonus. Of course, there was no way to explain this to Voldemort.

"If it's not about the money, then why are we doing this? Are you really that kind-hearted?" Voldemort scoffed.

"To be honest, Voldemort, aside from being a little tough on you, when have I ever been unkind to others?"

Voldemort fell silent.

Annoyingly, Jacob had a point.

It was just that Jacob always bullied him specifically, making it easy to assume he wasn't a good person. But in reality, to others, Jacob was seen as someone who stood up to bullies.

"Fine, I'll tell you the truth. You're not entirely wrong. Besides rescuing the kids, part of my motivation is the money." Jacob turned to look at him seriously.

"The money Dumbledore gave us won't last forever. It's just barely enough."

"That means we'll have to buy second-hand stuff and go without certain things."

"Are you really willing to use old, worn-out textbooks, wear second-hand robes, and wield a wand that's already been used by someone else? Well, those things aren't the most important..."

"The real problem is—Dumbledore specifically said we can only afford second-hand textbooks. What does that tell you? Spellbooks must be expensive in the wizarding world."

"We need knowledge, Voldemort. Knowledge beyond what's in those school textbooks. Don't you want to become stronger?"

Voldemort's heart pounded.

He could tolerate a poor lifestyle—he had endured it in the orphanage for years. But when it came to his own power? That was something he would not compromise on.

"Think about it. Hogwarts is full of people with special abilities like ours."

"In other words, we're not the most special ones there. If we also look poor and weak... what do you think will happen?"

Voldemort's breath hitched.

As someone who had often been the aggressor, he understood the mentality of bullies better than anyone.

He had never cared about being isolated by ordinary people—they couldn't do anything to him. But in a magic school...

There, the power he wielded was something others had too.

Jacob had successfully planted doubt in his mind.

"When you go out into the world, your identity is what you make it. So, first, we need money," Jacob continued.

"But... Dumbledore said we're not supposed to use magic against Muggles..." Voldemort hesitated.

After Jacob and Dumbledore had repeatedly challenged him, Voldemort had become much more cautious, no longer as blindly confident as before.

Jacob held up a finger. "First, they were planning to traffic us, right?"

Voldemort nodded.

"So, we were acting in self-defense. Agreed?"

Another nod.

Jacob raised a second finger. "Second, we know from those thugs that there are other children trapped inside, right?"

Voldemort nodded again.

"So, we're rescuing them. This isn't about money at all." Jacob smirked. "You're getting faster at answering now."

"You're right, Jacob. Besides, if we have the ability, why should we live miserably?" Voldemort's eyes hardened with determination.

Jacob patted him on the shoulder, looking pleased. "You're learning to think ahead."

A flicker of red light flashed in Voldemort's eyes. "Dumbledore seems like a good man. So even if he finds out what we've done, he won't punish us. At most, he'll just scold us for taking risks."

Jacob nodded. "Exactly. And we had to take risks—those traffickers have corrupt police covering for them. Calling the authorities would be useless."

"So... we had no choice but to handle this ourselves," Voldemort finished. "And besides... those filthy bastards tried to capture me and sell me? They must pay the price!" His eyes darkened dangerously.

In truth, Voldemort was someone who held grudges. He couldn't afford to take revenge on Jacob—so he'd settle for ordinary Muggles instead.

"What's the plan?" Voldemort asked.

"First, we need to figure out how many people are inside and whether they have weapons—guns, especially," Jacob said seriously.

Even though they had magic, he wasn't about to underestimate a Muggle weapon that could kill instantly. He wasn't Dumbledore. He'd only been learning magic for about a week and didn't have many spells at his disposal.

"Voldemort... can't you control snakes?" Jacob asked with a grin.

Voldemort's face turned red.

He had indeed once used a snake to spy on Jacob, trying to uncover the secret of his power.

"I understand..." Voldemort muttered, then crouched in the corner, hissing softly.

Voldemort was a Parselmouth—he could not only speak with snakes but command them as well.

In other words, they could use snakes to do things humans couldn't.

A moment later, Jacob noticed several small green grass snakes slithering out from cracks in the walls. Among them were even a few venomous ones.

The sight of so many snakes at once sent shivers down Jacob's spine, but Voldemort seemed completely unfazed.

"Hiss, hiss, hiss..."

Voldemort whispered something to one of the snakes. The little creature flicked its tongue, then quickly slithered into the shadows, disappearing from sight.