"Lucien Grafton."
Seeing the face in the mirror, Voldemort drawled the name softly.
Truth be told, he hadn't expected to see this face tonight.
His mind racing, Voldemort quickly gathered his words:
"Lucien, this is our first proper meeting."
"I'm the one they call the Dark Lord, Voldemort. I'm sure you've heard my name before."
A twisted mix of pride and arrogance crept across Voldemort's terrifying face, as if he were waiting for Lucien's shocked submission.
But Lucien just stayed calm, casually setting the crystal vial of potion on the table. That caught Voldemort's eye.
After all, Voldemort had watched Lucien brew that potion with the Sorcerer's Stone—the very thing he'd been chasing for immortality, for a new body.
Voldemort figured tonight could make a year's worth of scheming pay off.
On second thought, Lucien would be easy to sway.
A gifted kid, one who didn't shy away from dark magic, a knowledge-hungry raven—perfect for a mentor like him, wise and powerful!
"Lucien, after me, you're the best student Hogwarts has ever seen."
"Your talent is incredible, but how much can you really learn at Hogwarts? Have you been to the Restricted Section? That's where the real treasures are."
Lucien's eyes flickered at that.
Yeah, the Restricted Section had way too many good books—he hadn't made a dent in them this year.
Wonder if he could check them out over summer break. Hmm, ask old Dumbledore before the holidays.
Spotting Lucien's reaction, Voldemort was sure he'd hooked him.
Mention knowledge, and Lucien was in. From a year of watching, Voldemort knew Lucien was a true Ravenclaw, an eagle obsessed with wisdom and learning.
"Too bad that stubborn old fool Dumbledore won't let students touch that stuff or try real powerful dark magic!"
"You think he's protecting you? No, he's just scared a genius like you will surpass him someday—like he was with me back in the day!"
Voldemort's voice rose, laced with that tempting edge, prying at Lucien's defenses while venting his own old grudges.
Listening to Voldemort's fiery speech, Lucien almost wanted to applaud.
No wonder he'd rallied a bunch of followers as a student and later built a whole cult around himself.
Tsk tsk, Tom could've made it big even without magic—just with that silver tongue.
He'd fit right in as a salesman or politician. Yep, next up: the big promises.
"But I'll share everything I've learned with you!"
"Give me the Sorcerer's Stone. Let me come back first. Once I have the secret to eternal life, I'll bring you along!"
"We'll share knowledge and glory forever!"
Hearing that, Quirrell nearly sighed. He'd fallen for the same lines in the dark forest.
Knowledge. Glory.
How could a Ravenclaw, a naturally gifted wizard, say no?
But Lucien's mouth twitched.
What was this, "get rich quick" scheme?
Lucien couldn't hold it in—he burst out laughing.
"Haha, promises from the guy who got taken down by a one-year-old baby? Not super convincing."
His words echoed from the mirror, and Voldemort's face darkened instantly.
Taken down by a baby?
The great Voldemort, beaten by Harry Potter?
The fractured soul's rage and cruelty flared up. Voldemort seized control of Quirrell's body and flicked the wand hard.
"Whoosh!"
A black arrow wrapped in mist shot straight at Harry on the floor, aimed right for his heart.
But no scream came.
"Master!"
Quirrell yelped. He saw a creature suddenly appear in front of Harry.
Pale golden scales, white jade horns, and eyes clear as glass.
It was the same one from the Forbidden Forest that had guarded the unicorn and burned off Quirrell's arm!
Quirrell's head twisted, Voldemort's face glaring at the strange beast blocking Harry.
"Hahahaha..."
"Good, very good!"
"So that's how it is, Lucien. You never cease to surprise me!"
Voldemort hadn't expected that Forbidden Forest creature to show up here. Its insane vitality had stuck with him—and now tonight's haul was even bigger!
"Lucien, with your gifts, don't waste time at Hogwarts. Come with me..."
Voldemort twisted his neck, brimming with confidence, but when he looked back at the mirror, his words cut off.
The mirror was blank. Lucien was gone. The table was gone. The potion on it—gone!
The next second, the whole mirror vanished.
Filling Voldemort's view was a flash of red light.
But Voldemort wasn't Quirrell—their combat experience and reflexes were worlds apart.
Blue-purple lightning shot from his wand tip, slamming into the red spell.
"Crackle—crackle—"
A piercing screech exploded from the clashing magic.
"Silent casting!"
Voldemort's scarlet eyes locked on the opponent across from him—Lucien, matching him spell for spell.
"Heh, silent spells in your first year? Impressive."
"Your talent really is something!"
Taking full control of Quirrell's body, dark and powerful magic surged out.
He broke the deadlock, casually flinging arcs of lightning, frost, poison mist...
But Lucien countered every one.
Voldemort wasn't mad—in fact, he nodded lightly, smiling with approval:
"Not bad. You didn't waste this year's Defense Against the Dark Arts lessons."
"In a fight, stay calm and respond coolly."
Most of Voldemort's attention was on that strange creature—the Forbidden Forest clash had left a mark, especially that anti-Apparition trick at the end.
But they were inside Hogwarts castle now, where Apparition didn't work anyway.
Voldemort just stayed wary of a sneak attack from the beast while needling Lucien mid-fight:
"Lucien, all those spells, that knowledge—how much did Quirrell teach you, and how much came from me?"
"You owe your progress to me, you know."
After firing off dozens—maybe hundreds—of curses in a flash, Lucien exhaled. Warm-up done.
Click—he snapped open the brass pocket watch in his left hand. Transfiguration light flickered, and a sleek revolver appeared in his grip, bullets loading automatically into the cylinder.
He raised the barrel, aiming at Voldemort.
"You evil dark wizard, daring to impersonate my respected professor!"
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