Hogwarts: Voldemort, don't stop me from studying!

Wade opened it, and at the bottom of the box were several boxes of different sizes, but only one of them contained something.

He opened a flat box and took out a black notebook.

This is a very old diary; the faded date on the cover is fifty years old. Opening the first page, one can see a blurry, indistinct name:

Tom Marvolo Riddell.

The same name appeared above the diary in his eyes.

Wade picked up his pen and wrote a line on it:

What matters in the world's progress is not our talent, but how we use it.

The text flashed on the paper, then was absorbed and disappeared without a trace.

Then, new text appeared on the paper:

I haven't met anyone who shares my thoughts in a long time. I bet you must be a very talented little wizard.

The text flashes, then disappears, and then a new line appears on the paper:

People like us often don't receive understanding or recognition. I used to be very lonely; were you too?

—Sorry, I have no intention of having a heart-to-heart talk with you.

Without hesitation, Wade stuffed the diary into the box.

As soon as the lid was closed, the magic rune chains began to move across it, wrapping around it in circles to form a vine-like pattern before finally settling in place.

Place the diary in the place furthest from the crown.

Although both Horcruxes were tightly sealed in boxes that shielded them from magic, Vader still felt a sense of urgency.

—We need to figure out how to deal with the Horcruxes… at least take care of one first…

To prevent them from influencing each other and creating some kind of magical resonance, thus escaping from the blockade.

……

At six o'clock in the afternoon, the Grays finally returned, bringing with them two boxes of pizza from a nearby restaurant.

"Rush orders are such a hassle. If it weren't for a long-term client, I wouldn't have paid him this overtime fee."

As Ferdinand loosened his tie, he said, "Wade, have you been waiting long? Why haven't you watched any TV?"

"I read for a while and bought new textbooks in Diagon Alley today."

Wade took his mother's coat and hung it on the hanger.

Ferdinand placed a briefcase on the table and said, "Here's what you wanted... Wade, use it well, and don't put yourself in danger."

“I understand, Dad,” Wade said.

"What is it?" Fiona asked curiously. "I asked your father on the way here, but he wouldn't tell me."

Wade smiled and said, "It's magical material required by the school. It includes things like fly eyes or toad eggs. Do you want to see it?"

He pretended to open the box, and Fiona immediately jumped behind her husband, closed her eyes, and called out:

"No, no, no! Don't open it! If you see this, I'll have nightmares!"

Ferdinand tapped his son on the head, and Wied smiled slyly.

After having dinner, he returned to his bedroom and opened his suitcase.

The small box was filled with resumes, which included photos, names, personalities, family members, and other basic information. There was also a transparent specimen collection bag attached to it, containing three or four hairs.

These are the "magical materials" that Ferdinand collected for him, mostly from prisoners in the prison. Some of them look extremely dangerous just from their appearance, while others look harmless.

Some photos came from barbershops or hospitals, and included men and women, as well as elderly people and children.

Collecting hair is easy, but collecting information about the hair's owner is not, especially since you can't hire someone else to do this crucial task.

Ferdinand spent a long time collecting this much bit by bit. As for the compound decoction, Wade had already brewed a large pot of it last semester.

Even Dumbledore couldn't tell the difference between the real and fake Polygonum multiflorum, as Barty Crouch had already proven to him.

Chapter 121 Delivery Mission

It rained last night.

It rained steadily for two or three hours.

Even when the sun rises, the ground in Diagon Alley is still very damp, and green moss crawls in the corners of the walls and between the bricks.

Vidra pulled down his hood and walked down the street, his worn-out boots crunching through the moss and leaving a green footprint on the gray-black bricks.

He was a middle-aged man with a thin face, dark circles under his eyes, and his wizard robe was patched up, making him look very destitute.

There weren't many customers in Diagon Alley at this time, nothing compared to Lockhart's book launch yesterday.

Some shop owners were directing brooms and rags to clean up, and when they saw Wade walk by, they just glanced at him lazily and showed no interest in greeting him.

Several children were running and playing in the street, while others had been lying outside the Flying Broom Shop for a long time, staring fascinated at the latest Nimbus 2001 model through the window.

Next to the Flying Broomstick Shop was a small White Deer Drinks shop. A boy was tidying up the shelves while calling out to the children:

"Be careful, don't bump into anyone."

"Know it!"

The child responded loudly.

But agreeing is one thing, doing it is another.

There weren't many people on the street, so the children played rather recklessly.

A child ran forward, calling out to his friends, and accidentally bumped into a wizard dressed in a black robe by the roadside.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean it!"

He quickly bowed his head to apologize, but before he could even lift his head, he felt a claw-like hand grab the back of his neck.

"You think you can just apologize and call it a day after you hit someone?"

A withered finger gripped his neck from behind, and the sinister voice sounded malicious.

Upon seeing this, the boy from the beverage shop hurriedly ran out:

"I'm sorry, this is my brother. I apologize on his behalf... Um, may I buy you a drink?"

He looked up at the wizard and immediately felt a chill run down his spine.

The pale-faced sorcerer's eyes seemed to glow green, his cheekbones were prominent, a hideous scar ran down his lip, and he exuded a strange odor.

He stuck out his tongue and licked his lips, a chilling smile curling at the corner of his mouth.

"I don't need free drinks."

He said in a hoarse voice, "If you want to express your apology, show some sincerity... How about you do me a small favor?"

The boy felt a chill run down his spine, yet dared not back down rashly. He swallowed hard and asked, "...What kind of help?"

"How about you deliver a letter for me?" the wizard asked, pulling out a thick letter.

The boy glanced at the envelope; the address was nearby, and it wasn't some dreaded place like Overturned Alley.

He hesitated for a moment, glanced at his younger brother who was being held down by the wizard and barely managing to hold back his tears, and then took the envelope with both hands.

"Okay, is there anything else you need?"

The sorcerer's cold gaze swept over the two of them, and he said with a sneer:

"The person who received the letter has a bad temper. If you bring your brother along, maybe he'll be more lenient with you."

Upon hearing this, the boy breathed a sigh of relief.

If that's the case, then it's understandable that the wizard wouldn't want to deliver the message himself.

“Furthermore,” the wizard released the boy’s younger brother, “you were cursed the moment you accepted this letter.”

As the boy's expression changed, he chuckled: "I can't guarantee what will happen to you if the letter isn't delivered in time."

The boy took a deep breath: "I will deliver the letter in time."

"Alright, I hope everything goes well for you." The wizard chuckled and turned to leave.

The boy's lips tightened. He patted his younger brother's head with the hand that wasn't holding the letter and said, "I'll go deliver the letter. You hurry home."

"No, I'll go with you!" the younger brother sobbed.

"It's just delivering a message, there's no danger. I'll be back soon."

"No, I'll go with you!"

The little boy didn't know what had just happened; he only knew that he had caused trouble for his older brother, and he cried out of fear.

Moreover, he remembered what that person had said—that if he was with him, the person receiving the letter wouldn't get angry with his brother.

The boy tried to persuade him for a while but to no avail. He had no choice but to leave a note on the counter, close the shop door, and take his younger brother to the address on the note.

—If all goes well, they should be back in a few minutes.

He thought optimistically.

Besides, his father went to Gringotts to get the money and should be back soon. Seeing the note on the counter, he'll definitely come out to look for them.