Voldemort, who had just begun to suspect that Theodore might not take the bait after all, was suddenly overjoyed.
"He gave ground?"
"He actually gave ground!"
"Hahaha! I thought Theodore Ashbourne was unpredictable in every possible way, but in the end I still found a weakness!"
Quirrell, meanwhile, looked puzzled.
"Master…"
"But from what I can see, Theodore doesn't seem all that interested in drinking tea with a little witch."
"He seems a lot more interested in getting paid."
The instant those words were spoken, Voldemort let out a cold laugh.
"Quirrell, you bookish Ravenclaw fool—have you never been in love?"
"Hmph. Let me tell you something. When people face temptation, they always look for excuses to justify themselves. Even a genius little wizard like Theodore is no exception."
"Right now, he's caught between the conflict of Gryffindor and Slytherin, and yet at the same time he's tempted by the invitation of a pretty little witch. He's conflicted. That's why he's setting what looks like an unreasonable condition. But really, it's only an excuse—a justification for the impulses already stirring in his heart."
"And once his condition is met, he'll have a way to persuade himself…"
"After that, corruption will follow naturally."
Strange light shimmered in Voldemort's eyes.
When it came to persuading others and drawing them into ruin, he had absolute confidence.
After all, back in the day, from thousand-year-old ghosts to seventy-year-old women, all the way down to innocent little witches—hadn't every last one of them danced in the palm of his hand?
And more recently, the little Slytherins of the present day—hah. He had barely needed to exert himself before all of them were hopelessly addicted to their "epistolary romance."
Every day brought in a fresh harvest of life force. True, it lacked a bit of dignity—but compared with chasing unicorns, it was infinitely more efficient.
Voldemort refused to believe that he, of all people, would fail to manipulate an adolescent Theodore.
At once, the little witch staring at Theodore with worshipful eyes brightened in delight.
"Really?"
"You'd actually be willing to have tea with me?"
Theodore smiled.
"If the price is right, then of course I would."
The little witch stepped closer, staring directly into Theodore's eyes. Her gaze flowed with boldness and shyness in equal measure.
"Then how about we go somewhere nobody knows?"
"Somewhere no one can disturb us."
"We can say whatever we want there… do whatever we want there…"
Theodore answered quite cheerfully,
"That sounds wonderful. Truly wonderful."
The little witch was overjoyed. She reached out, fingers curling, trying to take Theodore's hand—
but Theodore casually stepped aside.
The little witch looked at him in confusion, and then with hurt.
"That movement just now… were you serious?"
"I only wanted to touch your hand. Was I too forward?"
"Yes… of course. Someone as outstanding as you could never truly notice a plain little witch like me."
"I suppose I was thinking too much…"
Hidden in the shadows, Voldemort already wore the smug expression of a hunter with victory in hand.
No one understood how to toy with emotion better than Lord Voldemort.
Well then, Theodore Ashbourne—
now that a little witch who adores you looks this wounded and disappointed, can you still stand firm?
Surely guilt is already beginning to stir. A little pity too.
Go on—take her hand. Once that happens, everything else will follow.
But in the next second, Theodore explained calmly,
"Drinking tea is one price."
"Physical contact is a different price."
"And going out somewhere with me is yet another price."
"We should settle the amount before the corresponding service is provided, don't you think?"
"I can't exactly let people freeload."
Back in the hidden corner, Quirrell's eyes flickered, and he once again turned to Voldemort.
"Master…"
"But the way I see it, Theodore sounds less like someone interested in romance and more like some scoundrel trying to squeeze money out of a little witch."
"He can't stop talking about money. There's not a trace of feeling in him."
Voldemort fell silent for a moment, then replied with a cool, deliberate tone.
"Quirrell, this is where your lack of understanding shows."
"A gifted wizard like Theodore cannot be judged by ordinary standards."
"If he wants money, power, status—would any of that truly be difficult for him to obtain with his talent and ability?"
"So why ask such things from a little witch?"
"There is only one explanation…"
"Theodore Ashbourne is already beginning to think about marriage."
"He is willing to fall in love, yes—but he wants to secure for himself a family of proper standing, a family able to provide him with sufficient resources. That is why he makes demands like these."
"Hmph. Money is nothing."
"So long as this gives us a chance to draw close to Theodore Ashbourne and pry out how to pass the barriers and obtain the Philosopher's Stone, then every coin will be worth it."
At once, the little witch's face filled with an almost feverish devotion.
"Theodore, how much would it cost to drink tea with you? To hold hands? To be with you?"
"If it means being with you, I'm willing to do anything."
A faint smile touched Theodore's lips.
He raised one finger.
"Not much."
"This amount will do."
The little witch paused, then her smile only deepened.
"One Galleon?"
"Theodore, you're so playful. How charming. What's one Galleon, if it's for you…"
But Theodore shook his head, wagging the finger once.
"Not one."
The little witch tried again.
"Then ten?"
"That's hardly anything. Ten Galleons for tea with you would be a bargain."
Theodore shook his head again.
"Not ten?"
"Then one hundred?"
"One thousand?"
"Surely not ten thousand?"
The little witch's expression shifted.
Theodore sighed.
"An inch of time is an inch of gold."
"And for a genius like me, time is even more precious than it is for ordinary people."
"What I said was one mountain."
"Tea is one mountain."
"Hand-holding and similar physical contact is another mountain."
"And if you want to invite me out to do strange things, that's yet another mountain."
Hidden in the shadows, both Quirrell and Voldemort were momentarily stunned.
A mountain?
Since when had the magical world started using that as a unit of currency?
In the very next instant, Theodore patiently clarified.
"A mountain of bronze Knuts—or an equivalent bronze mine—and I'll have tea with you."
"A mountain of silver Sickles—or an equivalent silver mine—and I'll permit physical contact."
"A mountain of golden Galleons—or an equivalent gold mine—and then you can invite me out to do all sorts of strange things."
Theodore said blandly,
"You're free to tell all your friends too."
"I, Theodore Ashbourne, have fixed prices. Fair dealing. No cheating."
"Alright, your complimentary chat time has now expired."
"If you'd like to continue talking, perhaps you'd like to add more time?"
"Otherwise I'll be leaving now."
At that point, Quirrell stammered to Voldemort,
"Master… he is joking, isn't he?"
"I mean, what even is he made of? Gold? At that price, he'd have to be made of the Philosopher's Stone itself!"
Voldemort, however, had fallen into thought instead.
"No."
"I don't believe he's joking."
"Remember what I said before? That Theodore is already thinking in terms of marriage, trying to attach himself to a family able to grant him sufficient resources?"
"At first it was just a guess. Now I'm certain."
"He even said other Slytherin girls are free to know the price."
"That means he wants a bidding war."
"He's trying to sell himself at the highest possible value and secure the richest family available."
"Hmph. How did a child like this end up in Gryffindor? With tactics like these, he belongs in Slytherin."
As he said this, admiration began to appear in Voldemort's eyes, as if he were glimpsing a younger version of himself.
The difference, however, was that when he had once traded on his looks, it had only been for treasure—useful things he could turn into Horcruxes.
But Theodore's approach appeared even more prudent.
Money, power, status—
he intended to have everything.
A sudden chill crept into Quirrell's heart.
"Master… surely you're not thinking of agreeing to those terms?"
Voldemort answered with complete hauteur.
"And why not?"
"We've finally sounded out Theodore Ashbourne's true nature. This is a perfect opportunity to gain his trust and pry out his secrets."
Quirrell stammered,
"But Master, our operational funds have already been heavily depleted."
"What little remains isn't even enough to afford tea with him! He's asking for a mountain of bronze ore!"
Voldemort gave the matter some serious thought.
A moment later, he spoke with firm decisiveness.
"As long as one's thinking doesn't collapse, there is always a way."
"Quirrell, with all the life force that's been flowing in, you can live longer now. Your body should be more or less restored as well."
"I remember there are plenty of mineral veins in the Forbidden Forest. For a while, you'll just have to work hard and mine."
Then Voldemort even added,
"Quirrell, for now you'll have to bear the hardship."
"If anyone must shoulder the infamy of deceiving a little wizard, I'll bear that burden myself."
"That should leave you with no further complaints, yes?"
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