"...Vol-Voldemort?"
Back in the divine hall at Olympus Peak, Nothus, caught between a snake and a dog, swallowed with a stutter in his voice.
"Mmm-hmm~"
Touching his bald head, William let out a pleased hum.
His current appearance mimicked Quirrell’s look as seen from Harry, except for a reversed head and missing Quirrell’s face, otherwise, it looked no different from that bald, snake-faced figure. The effects of Hallucinatory Magic, a variant of Dream Magic, were also cast over him.
The reason is simple, William purely wanted to feel the texture of this bald head—he thought it looked quite smooth when he saw it on a boggart.
Indeed, it was just as expected.
Alright, now he should think, if he were Voldemort, what would co next...
"Who is it, who?"
"?"
What does this an?
William, who initially prepared to show off, suddenly felt a sharp pain at his waist. He looked down, noticing the confused expression on the face opposite him, which didn’t resemble any feigned pretense, and he was equally bewildered... No way? Voldemort’s fa is that small? Should he have been pretending to be Grindelwald instead?
As a "senior" who had been detached from the era for a hundred years, William clearly misjudged the spread between the two Dark Lords.
Although both had the aim of "ruling the world," although both incited conflicts in Europe, although... well, there’s no more "although," considering that Grindelwald, in pursuit of collecting the three Deathly Hallows, road the world aimlessly, Voldemort seed more like a mountain king, slowly plotting world domination.
However, this high-ranking Great Britain terrorist hadn’t even had the chance to erge before he was dethroned by a one or two-year-old child.
Of course, internationally, Grindelwald’s ferocity apparently hadn’t risen to Voldemort’s level in local England, as despite being a Black Wizard, Grindelwald lacked the title of Dark Lord, busy himself and his Witch Supremacist Faction scouring the globe for treasure, and he wasn’t as bloodthirsty.
He was, at the very least, rational, but according to a certain forr Death Eater’s account, Voldemort was pure madness.
Originally, William was revisiting "Actor’s Essential Course," thinking about how to portray a madman whose soul had been fragnted, and yet... this person didn’t play along?
Indeed, William’s actions were not entirely necessary, but first off, while he was rciless, he never indulged in random killing like Voldemort, nor enjoyed using Crucio to torture people. The few tis he did, it was either to tornt Death Eaters or while posing as one.
First, he would never act impulsively; second, he would never overlook any wrongdoing; third, he would conduct judgnt impartially and gracefully!
Thus, he didn’t find anything deserving of punishnt among this group of people, and he was uncertain of their identity until they declared themselves—these folks dressed like shamans were actually officials from the Greek Ministry of Magic?
That man lying on the ground, resembling a Fudge look-alike, was even the minister?
What’s this? Nowadays, is looking plump a prerequisite for being a minister? In that case, he probably won’t have much hope in this life.
Governnt officials... appearing in such places? This temple looks like so "Secret Realm" at first glance. He initially thought he might encounter a group like poachers, or perhaps another batch akin to Hogwarts’ underground Secret Vault, like protectors such as Headmaster Fitzgerald or Professor Percival.
Yet the reality was far from his previous speculation.
Alas, he initially hoped these god statues might rise up and engage him in a fight, considering that under those guardians’ training, every statue in the Magic Realm could stand up and fight, it almost beca William’s routine, and Headmaster Fitzgerald’s rationale was—
"Other Patronus can’t live that long; we’re not like Slytherin, nurturing creatures as long-lived as basilisks."
"Besides, we’re here to challenge future generations, not for annihilation—"
William wholeheartedly agreed with their perspective. If his inexperienced self had encountered a basilisk back then, he’d likely now have taller grass growing on his grave than himself.
Now then... William shifted his gaze back to the man opposite him, his tone a bit peculiar, "...You don’t know ?"
Nothus didn’t speak, only shook his head, terrified, his fear originating from his peripheral glance on the floor reflection—he saw the Three-Headed Dog behind him had already opened its three bloody mouths... yet hadn’t chosen which head to bite with.
"..."
Unlike the man’s helplessness, William found himself speechless. Now if he grew two strands of hair and pulled out his nose, then claid to be Grindelwald, would that work?
Originally considering recruiting so forces abroad, but the other party was connected to the governnt, watched over by higher-ups, even from positions worldwide, Ministries of Magic ministers generally fell under Dumbledore’s influence, so... are these people useless?
No, William lowered his head, focusing on a certain foam-spewing corpulent from a Crucio... perhaps he could be repurposed to so extent.
"Obliviate."
The transparent charm ripple pierced through the air, fiercely striking the man’s forehead, wiping all emotions from his face instantly, then he crashed onto the floor with a "thump," resting his head on an Auror’s leg behind him, promptly starting to snore.
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