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Chapter 290: Makes No Sense!!
Tom Riddle's expression twisted instantly.
He despised—more than anything—being called dirty.
It dragged him back to that memory… the wardrobe Dumbledore had burned right in front of him.
"Hmph. Fine, enough of that."
In a blink, Tom Riddle appeared right beside Darren.
He leaned in, staring obsessively at Darren's face.
"What a perfect face… what a delicious soul.
Ah… I can feel your soul trembling. But anger ruins the flavor. Let me 'warm' you up with a little fire."
His tone turned almost playful.
"Shall I tell you what this girl did?
She opened the Chamber of Secrets for me.
She strangled Hagrid's rooster.
She ordered the Basilisk to petrify your friends.
And she even sent the Basilisk to kill you…
Ahh… sad, isn't it? Stay sad—stay broken. That way I can swallow your soul in one smooth gulp."
Tom Riddle smiled like he had already won.
He reached out toward Darren's soul.
Once.
Twice.
Again.
Nothing.
Tom Riddle froze.
He stared at Darren's soul in disbelief.
Yes—Darren looked devastated, pained, grief-stricken.
And yet—
Why was it not working?
And why… why did this feel so familiar?
As if he really had tried to devour this soul before…
Impossible.
How could he ever have come into contact with Darren Porter?
Nonsense!
No—no time to think about such things now.
Perhaps the emotions weren't strong enough.
Maybe he needed despair, not sadness.
He must have misjudged it.
He would simply push harder.
Darren watched his confused face and nearly laughed.
This guy was ridiculous.
Last time he tried a soul attack and it bounced back. Now his "psychological trauma" was acting up and he had switched to trying to eat Darren's soul.
And still failing.
And this idiot expected Darren to just stay quietly sad?
Please.
As a little Holy Father, Darren had already provided enough sorrow. But now he needed to defend Ginny.
So he slipped back into the proper emotional tone and shouted:
"I knew something was wrong! Ginny would never do those things on purpose. She's too kind—too innocent!
You forced her! You manipulated her, you… you vicious monster!"
Darren gritted his teeth, furious.
Although coming from him, "vicious monster" still sounded oddly gentle.
Harry sighed beside him.
Darren claimed others were kind and innocent, but in truth Darren himself was far kinder than Ginny.
"What do you want? Come at me then! My brother doesn't know anything about this!"
Harry stepped in front of Darren, face red with anger.
He was the older brother here.
"What do I want?" Tom Riddle sneered. "Harry Potter. I know you well."
Riddle still hadn't found a way to push Darren into despair.
Then Harry spoke—giving Riddle the perfect idea.
He smirked coldly.
"I read Ginny's thoughts. Your history is… interesting. You defeated the Dark Lord as a baby, they say. And then again, last year…
I was curious to see what someone who beat me twice would look like.
But you—what a disappointment."
Harry blinked, confused.
He didn't understand what Tom Riddle meant.
Darren instantly yanked Harry behind him.
"Brother, it's Voldemort. He's Voldemort. You have to go—now!"
[Ding, Father +100]
[Ding, Father +100]
[Ding, Father +100]
[Ding…]
Darren's face was white with tension. Sweat formed on his forehead as he gripped his wand.
"Voldemort? That's impossible."
Harry stared at Riddle in disbelief.
Tom Riddle looked nothing like Voldemort.
"Brother… Voldemort is his future. He is Voldemort's past. This is Voldemort as a teenager."
Darren raised his wand and wrote TOM MARVOLO RIDDLE in the air.
Then he flicked it.
The letters rearranged themselves.
I AM LORD VOLDEMORT
Tom Riddle beamed.
"I can't hold back anymore. You're so clever… I simply must devour your soul and use your body."
He looked almost regretful—yet filled with anticipation.
Once he had Darren's body, no one would suspect him. He could rise again from nothing, perfectly disguised.
"What are you talking about?! Why would you swallow Darren's soul? That's evil!"
Harry shouted, horrified.
He tried to drag Darren behind him, but Darren wouldn't budge.
Harry could only be protected by Darren.
"Darren, move! Let me fight him! Voldemort, if you touch my brother, I'll—I'll—!"
"Naive little lion," Riddle sneered. "If I were you, I'd look at your brother's face. Even Darren Porter knows my target is you.
Once you die—and I take Darren Porter's body—who will ever know I'm Voldemort?
I'll rebuild my empire from the ground up. I'll stand at the top again. And Dumbledore… that mad old fool won't stop me twice!"
Riddle laughed wildly.
But the laugh suddenly cut off.
Darren had ripped out his wand, fury blazing across his face.
"You want to kill my brother? And you dare insult Professor Dumbledore? You bastard who murdered my parents!"
He roared.
A wave of fire burst around Tom Riddle.
He screamed in terror.
Then—mid-scream—his eyes widened.
He realized something.
He stared at Darren, horrified.
"You—!"
Darren smiled coldly.
Of course. He knew forged emotions worked poorly on Voldemort and Dumbledore.
Their instincts were too sharp.
Certain scenes triggered faint memories for them.
But Darren wasn't going to let Riddle finish speaking.
The fire surged forward, piercing the diary.
Tom Riddle let out a final shriek—and vanished.
Darren turned toward the Basilisk.
It recoiled from the flames, but when Darren gave it a look, it forced itself to leap toward the diary, choosing to die with its master.
[Ding, sensing that the host is setting up a Holy Father scene, a temporary task is now issued:
Turn around and say to Harry: "Brother… I don't deserve to be your brother. The professors told me… this fire spell is a curse…"
Then walk straight into the fire.
Use Holy Father Points to fake burn wounds.
Obtain the phoenix's tears by deception.]
[Ding, task reward: Carlo blood concentration +100%.
Will the host accept?]
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