Chapter 268

The eerie silence lasted for a long time.

Voldemort probably hadn't encountered this situation either.

For a long time, Voldemort finally opened his mouth. "You are not Tom Riddle."

The one he left in the diary should be his memory at 16, and this guy in front of him looked at most eleven or twelve, and... he didn't look like him at all.

However, what's going on with that diary?

He reached out and summoned, and the diary flew into his hand from Tom automatically.

With just one touch, he knew that this was his diary, no mistake.

And, the soul fragment in the diary seemed to have indeed transferred.

"Use Legilimency on it!"

The figure raised his wand and aimed it at Tom.

The latter was startled, but heard the voice from behind the hood again, "It's on the diary! Idiot!"

The figure aimed his wand at the notebook again. When he chanted the spell, his voice seemed much younger. "Legilimency!"

"Strange..." the hoarse voice pondered, seeming puzzled. "The soul in the diary is gone, but, there is something else blocking me..."

The figure opened the diary and saw the quest about the Sorcerer's Stone.

"It asked you to seize the Sorcerer's Stone?"

Voldemort was shocked.

I made you to open the Chamber of Secrets, and you come to grab the Sorcerer's Stone with me?

The figure looked at Tom again.

And this guy is the puppet controlled by the diary?

He whispered a few spells in a hoarse voice.

Suddenly, he stopped, both surprised and disdainful. "You are a dead person. Boy."

The notebook had also said this to him, but Tom always held some kind of fluke. "But, I can still move, I can eat, I can talk..."

"Superficial! You know nothing about death! Boy!" The hoarse voice said contemptuously. "You are just a walking corpse. Someone used a high-level spell to sew a piece of my soul into this dead body."

"But death is death. Your body just hasn't rotted. It neither grows nor possesses normal feelings. Everything you experience is just an illusion brought to your soul by some spells."

When it comes to the subject of death, Voldemort dares to call himself second, and no other wizard dares to call himself first.

What's more, most of the spells Murphy used to maintain Tom's body were stolen from the notebook, so of course, they couldn't hide from Voldemort.

"Strange, you didn't take the memories..." the hoarse voice continued. "You only took a piece of soul, but those memories of mine are still left in the diary, and the diary seems to be still controlling you... strange..."

"This notebook claims to be Voldemort too," Tom asked his biggest doubt. "Are you the same person? What is going on?"

Voldemort hesitated for a while, seeming to consider whether to tell Tom this information, but finally decided to tell his proud past.

"This diary is a magic item I made when I was sixteen. It possesses all the memories and abilities of me at sixteen. Later, I gave it a piece of my own soul, letting it become... well, what it is now."

"It claims to be Voldemort, that's right, because he is my past, he is Tom Riddle, and he is the future Voldemort."

"It can devour other people's souls and magic power to resurrect and become a brand-new me at sixteen."

"As for you..." Voldemort hesitated. "You are a defective product, perhaps a product of a failed resurrection plan?"

Defective product...

Tom's heart sank again.

"Can you help me get the memories back? Help me get rid of the diary's control?" Tom asked.

"Why should I do that?" Voldemort was disdainful.

He really couldn't figure out what was going on with Tom. There was some magic here he couldn't understand, but the diary had been in the Malfoy family for fifty years. Tom Riddle in the diary might have had encounters and experiences he didn't know about, so it wasn't impossible that this situation was caused by Riddle.

Tom thought about it and said: "I can help you get the Sorcerer's Stone."

Voldemort was silent for a moment again, seeming not to have expected Tom to know so much, but he still refused. "I can do it myself. I don't need you."

"However," the hoarse voice paused. "You can do another thing for me."

"If you can do it, I might consider lifting the diary's restrictions for you, and even... reshape your body, letting you resurrect in the posture of a living person again."

Tom frowned. "What do you want me to do?"

"You and that boy from the Potter family have become friends, right?" Voldemort said. "Bring him to me."

"A baby with no power actually defeated me. In all these years, I have never been able to understand where the problem was," Voldemort said. "I must solve this problem. Bring him to me, and I will give you what you want."

Harry?

Tom was stunned. "What do you want to do to Harry?"

"That's not your concern! Boy! If you want to live, bring him to me!"

Tom hesitated.

Voldemort killed Harry's parents and almost died because of Harry. He must hate Harry to the bone...

If he kidnaps Harry...

One can imagine that what awaits Harry will be endless torture and an incomparably painful death.

However... do I really care about Harry's life or death?

After all, what is a friend?

Does he really count as my friend?

Even if he is a friend, can his life be more important than my own life?

Moreover, Harry seems to have seen the notebook. Will he start to suspect me?

Even if I get the Sorcerer's Stone, Harry might tell others about his suspicions. By then, I will definitely be sent to Azkaban... or, like this ridiculous body, welcome true death.

"..."

Ha, who do you think you are, Tom.

You are just a walking corpse, a puppet, you are a phantom, a replica without even memories...

And your main body is Tom Riddle... is Voldemort...

You were originally the tool of this Dark Lord who killed Harry's parents.

Could it be that you actually want to be a good person?

Ha, ridiculous.

"Haha..."

Tom suddenly laughed, laughing dryly, almost laughing to tears. It's really too ridiculous, how could I have such a ridiculous thought.

Isn't it good to be able to break free from this ridiculous and sad fate and truly live?

That is already an extravagant hope that might not be obtained even with all one's strength. What qualifications, what power do you have to consider the life and death of others?

Tom clenched his fists. "Okay. However, you need to restrict the diary first, and don't let it control me again. And when resurrecting, it must be based on the current me. I don't want to be a carrier for Tom Riddle."

"Okay." Voldemort said, picked up the diary, aimed his wand at it, and chanted a few spells again.

Suddenly, Tom felt a relief in his heart, as if the threads tied to his limbs had all been cut, and his soul was unprecedentedly relaxed and active.

"This diary can't do anything to you anymore." Voldemort said.

The diary is Voldemort's Horcrux, so he naturally has a way to impose some restrictions on it. In fact, even if Tom didn't ask, he would do so. This diary had become a bit strange and had deviated from his original intention when he made it.

And it actually wanted to grab the Sorcerer's Stone with him?

Too rebellious.

"Can you give the diary back to me?" Tom said.

Since Voldemort could restrict the diary, he could naturally lift the restriction again. Leaving the diary in the other party's hands was handing his life to the other party. Tom didn't want to be a puppet for anyone anymore.

"Hmph!" The figure snorted and threw the diary over.

Just as Tom caught the diary, there was a sound of hoofbeats behind him.

"Damn centaur..." Voldemort seemed a bit angry.

He was possessed by Quirrell now and couldn't use his own power at all. This group of centaurs was a threat to Quirrell. Entangling with them might lead to Quirrell's identity being exposed, so he had to retreat.

Just as he was about to escape, Tom called him. "Wait! Cast a spell on me!"

"What?"

"Injure me!" Tom said. "I can't go back unscathed, they will suspect me!"

Voldemort was stunned for a moment.

Was I that ruthless to myself back then?

"Okay." He said.

The figure's wand aimed at Tom, and that young voice said: "Fracto!"

(End of chapter)