Hogwarts: I graduated before the system came

Wormtail asked timidly:

"Master, who would be so bored as to use a weather spell here?"

In the wizarding world, apart from weather spells, no one can use lightning spells. Even with weather spells, it is difficult to accurately control the location of lightning attacks.

Voldemort looked in the direction where he hid the ring, and felt inexplicably panicked. If this Horcrux was discovered, could the other Horcruxes still be saved?

So, does this mean I only have this one life left?

Is this the end of my immortality?

He began to hesitate whether to check whether the Horcrux was still there.

What if the enemy has set up a trap there?

Thinking of this, Voldemort calmed down and said in a cold voice:

"Let's go, let's get out of here."

Not a trace of hesitation.

Wormtail_(:3」∠)_

I haven't done anything yet, and you're leaving now? Then why did I climb the mountain and go through the forest at night?

Unfortunately, he has no say.

And, once again, he lost his wand rights.

Because after Voldemort finished speaking, he took the wand back again.

Chapter 320 Father's Grave

Voldemort decided not to check if there was anything wrong with the Horcrux.

If the opponent had set a trap there, I would be in danger of losing my life.

At this moment, he understood that the reason why his opponent published such a novel and set such a disgusting trap in the Riddle mansion was to guide and force him to examine the Horcrux.

Their backup plan must be the Horcrux.

But the opponent backfired and used his soul aura on the magic text to disgust him, which made him judge in advance that something was wrong with the Horcrux.

Moreover, he was now certain that the problem must be with this ring, because the place where the ring was hidden was too easy for Dumbledore to find.

Dumbledore, who had always been paying attention to him, might have discovered his relationship with the Gaunt family and even used it to dig deeper into the Riddle family.

If he had doubts about himself, he would definitely search for clues related to himself in the Gaunt family and discover the Horcrux ring he had hidden there.

I was still too young at that time, and it was probably like the Horcruxes that came later, hidden in a place no one would think of.

He was now certain that his opponent was Dumbledore.

Only this old rival is good at leading people into his trap step by step.

He had learned his lesson when he stole the Philosopher's Stone two years ago.

He won't be fooled this time.

"My old professor, Albus Dumbledore."

Voldemort muttered to himself, a look of confidence on his face. Now that he knew who his opponent was, everything would be easy to deal with.

It was estimated that Lovegood was also the bait in the trap he set.

Look at what's written in that story, true and false, seven Horcruxes, and I've only made five. (PS: Voldemort had seven Horcruxes, but Harry Potter made them accidentally, he didn't know. Nagini became a Horcrux only after she was resurrected.)

Voldemort took a deep breath and suppressed the anger and resentment in his heart. He knew that the most important thing now was to stay calm and make the most wise choice.

Wormtail stumbled out of the forest along the same path he had come from. Without the help of the wandlight, he almost stumbled several times along the way, but Voldemort never showed any intention of returning the wand to him.

Standing on the hillside, Voldemort first glanced at the cold and silent Riddle House, then pointed to the church in the village below and said:

"Wormtail, take me to that church."

Behind the church is the village cemetery.

The night fell like a thick black cloth, weighing heavily on the ancient cemetery. The surroundings were so quiet that only the sound of the wind could be heard. The wind blew through the gaps between the tombstones, making a whimpering sound like ghosts and wolves howling.

Voldemort slowly stepped into this land of death in the arms of Wormtail, who was in panic, looking around, and ready to run away at any time.

Each tombstone is like the teeth of time, biting the memories of the past in an uneven manner.

Voldemort looked around, his mind filled with complex thoughts about death and immortality.

“Death is a destination that most people fear but ultimately have to embrace. It is like a ruthless sickle, harvesting fragile lives, severing their stories and dreams, and plunging them into endless darkness.

And I, the great Voldemort, have found the secret of immortality in the shadow of death, and have transcended the shackles of mortality.

But how could those ants know the price?

My soul has been torn and reshaped time and time again, becoming increasingly cold and hard, like the rocks in this cemetery, witnessing countless lives and deaths, yet remaining unmoved...”

"Wormtail," Voldemort's cold voice broke the silence, chilling the air. "Find my father's grave."

Wormtail (⊙?⊙)

He looked at the faint words emerging on Voldemort's arm - Welcome Mr. Tom Riddle back to the Riddle family.

A flash of lightning suddenly flashed through my mind. Tom Riddle, his name is Tom Riddle.

The house we just visited is called Riddle Manor, and Riddle Manor is so close to the Gaunt family...

Wormtail began to tremble all over. He actually knew a secret that the Dark Lord had hidden so deeply. Would he be killed by the Dark Lord?

At the same time, he also guessed that not only did he know his life experience, but Dumbledore, who set up the magic in that house, also knew this secret.

He looked at the house on the hillside, which was a dark shadow in the moonlight, and always felt that someone was looking at him.

Voldemort seemed to have anticipated Wormtail's reaction, and his tone was filled with rare kindness.

"Wormtail, you are my most trusted friend, so I am telling you this secret. Don't worry about that house, it's just a magical trap, he is not there.

Even if he senses changes there, our old rival will certainly not expect that we will not leave and will continue to be here.

Go, find the grave of that wretch, Tom Riddle, my name. And when you do, we'll get out of here."

Although Voldemort said this, he also felt vaguely uneasy in his heart. He always felt that the magic pattern that possessed the breath of his soul would not be so simple. He needed to take away the materials in the potion as soon as possible, and then find a safe place to hide and get rid of the curse on his body first.

Wormtail, the cowardly fellow, trembled a little, responded hurriedly, and began to shuttle between the tombstones. The wand in his hand flickered with a faint light, illuminating the blurry inscriptions.

Voldemort was in his arms, his eyes sharp as a torch, scanning every possible mark.

This cemetery is where his Muggle father is buried, the man who gave him life but abandoned him to the torrent of fate early on.

Finally, Wormtail stopped in front of a moss-covered, slightly worn tombstone, and said in a trembling voice, "Master, this is it."

Voldemort looked at the name on the monument and muttered to himself:

"Tom Riddle, such an ordinary and unfamiliar name. Compared to the name 'Voldemort' that now dominates the wizarding world, it is completely different."

Voldemort stretched out his hand and stroked the cold stone tablet. As his fingertips caressed it, he seemed to be able to touch the dusty past.

"Wormtail, you would never imagine that this is where my roots are buried, but it is also the bondage I am desperately trying to break free from."

Voldemort sneered in his heart. Death took him away, but it made him who he is today.

"You must be curious why I risked being discovered by Dumbledore in order to find this tomb."

Wormtail shook his head quickly and said in panic, "No, Master, I am not curious. I will do whatever you tell me to do."

Voldemort looked at the tombstone and sneered:

"I will draw more power from this land of death, making the entire magical world tremble under my shadow once again. Immortality will no longer be a taboo, but the eternal cornerstone of my rule."

When Voldemort's fingertips left the tombstone, a faint green light shone from under the grave, like a response from the depths of death, and also like a signal for him to declare war on the wizarding world again.

Looking at the green light, Voldemort could confirm that the person buried underneath was the one he had killed with his own hands.

Wormtail looked at the light in horror, subconsciously took a few steps back, and then looked around, as if someone would rush out of the darkness at any time.

And Voldemort just threw his head back and laughed, but his laughter sounded like the scream of a wild cat.

The laughter echoed in the cemetery, startling a group of roosting crows, which flew into the depths of the darkness, carrying Voldemort's ambition and arrogance, and blending into the endless night.

Chapter 321 Father’s Bones…Run!

The night was as dark as ink, and lay heavy upon the lonely churchyard of Little Hangleton.

Voldemort, the Dark Lord who once plunged the wizarding world into endless fear, was now curled up in Wormtail's arms. Only his pair of eyes flashing red revealed his gloom and determination.

He gently waved the wand in his hand, and the soil on the ground slowly turned to the sides like an obedient servant, making a dull sound, as if the earth was humming unwillingly to be disturbed.

However, after doing all this, Voldemort looked obviously very weak.

Wormtail hesitated for a moment, then said, "Master, how about I do it?"

Voldemort shook his head and said coldly, "It's better if I come in person."

In the light of the magic wand, the full appearance of a rotten coffin gradually emerged.

Voldemort's breathing quickened slightly. He had waited for this moment for too long.

With a creaking sound, the coffin lid was opened by an invisible force, revealing the body inside that had long since turned into bones - the bones of his father.

"Pick it up, Wormtail, I said pick it up."

Wormtail quickly placed Voldemort behind the tombstone, jumped into the coffin, and wrapped the bones with his own clothes. Although Voldemort's words were full of disdain and disgust, he was the Dark Lord's father after all, and he dared not neglect him in the slightest.

Just as Wormtail was diligently picking up the bones, Voldemort caught a glimpse of some words behind the tombstone out of the corner of his eye.

Voldemort's heart tightened, he turned around vigilantly, and the wand in his hand instantly pointed at the tombstone.

Under the faint light of the magic wand, the words behind the tombstone gradually emerged.

“The bones of fathers, the flesh of servants, the blood of enemies… The last enemy to be destroyed is death.”

After seeing the words on the tombstone, even his cold heart couldn't help but feel a chill.

That was the formula for the rebirth potion, the key to resurrection that he had carefully selected, and it was written so blatantly on the tombstone.

The most fatal thing is the last sentence, he knows where it comes from.

Fear wrapped around Voldemort's heart like a vine, and he realized that his series of actions had probably fallen into the calculations of others.

If Riddle Manor and the Gaunt family were traps he had set, then the words on the tombstone were telling him directly that everything about him had been thoroughly understood by the other party.

As for the person behind the scenes, he guessed it without even thinking - Dumbledore.

The headmaster of Hogwarts has always been like an insurmountable wall, standing in his way of conquering the wizarding world.

Voldemort could not understand how Dumbledore understood his thoughts so clearly that he even anticipated his plan to be reborn and come here to find the key thing, and left this secret recipe in advance, as if it was a mockery of him.

At this moment, the area around the cemetery was eerily quiet, with only the sound of the wind whistling in the ears, as if countless resentful spirits were whispering.

"Wormtail, let's go!"

Voldemort extinguished the light of his wand and shouted hoarsely at Wormtail in the tomb.

However, what he didn't know was that in another shadow in the cemetery, Dumbledore stood there quietly, his eyes looking calmly through the lenses in the direction where Voldemort left.

This elderly but wise man had his gray beard fluttering gently in the wind, and his eyes showed a hint of fatigue, but more of determination.

He witnessed Voldemort's every move in front of the grave and sighed inwardly.

At the same time, he became very interested in Douglas again. How could he be so good at writing novels?

He actually played the Dark Lord in his hands, as if every move of the other party was within his expectations.

Prophecy cannot go to this extent.

However, with Douglas' help, he no longer worried about the storm that would come when Voldemort appeared again.

After this scare, the wizarding world can be peaceful for a while, and Dumbledore does not have to worry about what Voldemort will do in secret for the time being.

His next focus should be on Hogwarts' education. After all, Douglas had caused so much trouble and had to hide it from the Ministry of Magic. He had to help with the subsequent matters one by one.

At noon, the sun shone on Godric's Hollow, and the afterglow of the Heroes' Memorial Meeting still lingered in the air.

Douglas, dressed in a black robe, stood tall and straight, having just finished his passionate speech. With a deep gaze, he walked through the crowd, declined the earnest invitation of the Ministry of Magic leaders, and Apparated back to Hogwarts alone.

The students who were attending the memorial meeting, led by Sirius, were sitting on the bus and heading towards the school with laughter and joy all the way.

The principal's office is quiet and warm.