"So," Lewis said lazily, "who cast this magic for you?"
Seeing Riddle so unbearably smug, he naturally felt obligated to splash some cold water on him.
"From what I understand, this sort of powerful magic requires genuine love."
"But forgive me for being blunt—given your current personality and overall condition, it's difficult for me to imagine anyone sincerely falling in love with you."
"Unless," Lewis tilted his head thoughtfully, "you tricked some brainless little girl…"
"…or perhaps a little boy?"
It was as though the boy had stabbed directly into Riddle's deepest insecurity.
Riddle's voice instantly became sharp and shrill.
"I—THE GREAT TOM RIDDLE—DO NOT NEED SUCH RIDICULOUS EMOTIONS!"
"I DON'T NEED ANYONE'S LOVE TO OBTAIN EVERYTHING I DESIRE!"
The scene looked exactly like an emotionally starved little boy throwing a furious tantrum while desperately trying to save face.
Lewis nearly blurted out:
"Oh? Mad already?"
He firmly believed that if he actually said that aloud, this Tom Riddle would abandon all attempts at maintaining style and immediately try to kill him on the spot.
But in order to hear the rest of the story, Lewis reluctantly suppressed the urge to stir trouble.
Instead, he cooperatively asked:
"If not through someone else's love… how did you accomplish it?"
"Because I exploited Ron."
Riddle slowly regained his composure.
"I used a transaction to siphon away his life force. During that entire process, my existence remained connected to his life."
"That state lasted for months."
"I could have drained him dry completely and obtained the ability to exist permanently outside the diary, leaving behind only his corpse…"
"But I chose not to."
"I maintained the connection. I preserved the bare minimum of his life."
"Because I still needed his life to protect me."
"Of course," Riddle added lightly, "that connection was unequal. If someone had destroyed the diary during that time, the only one who would have died… would have been me."
"But love magic works differently."
"As long as someone was willing to sacrifice their own life to protect Ron…"
"…that ancient protective magic would activate."
"And because of the contract linking Ron and myself, that protection would extend to me as well."
"And that person…"
"…was Harry Potter."
"That is why I chose him."
"Potter did not disappoint me. His affection for Weasley truly was extraordinary."
"So tonight, through a few subtle manipulations…"
"…he voluntarily formed that ancient protective bond with Ron."
"…Huh?!"
All three of them knew Harry and Ron were close.
But close enough to trigger literal "love magic"?
That sounded extremely weird no matter how one looked at it.
"And so," Riddle concluded smugly, "I used Harry Potter to bear the cost of my soul's destruction in my place."
At last he stood up, setting down the teacup he could not actually drink from.
"So the diary was destroyed."
"But I survived."
"But Harry didn't die either," Lewis pointed out, genuinely surprised.
"Yes," Riddle frowned slightly.
"That confuses me as well."
"Strange, isn't it?"
"Just like how the infant Harry Potter somehow survived when my future self tried to kill him."
"Oh, right," Riddle suddenly said with a smile. "You still don't know my true identity, do you?"
He casually waved his wand through the air.
Glowing letters appeared:
TOM MARVOLO RIDDLE
Then he waved his wand again, and the letters rapidly rearranged themselves.
Watching the two girls stare wide-eyed at the floating text, Riddle's grin widened triumphantly.
"That's right."
"I am the one whose name you dare not speak—"
"…Wait."
The letters in the air had rearranged into:
"Mr. Tom, a Dildo Lover."
"…WHAT?!"
Riddle's face instantly twisted in fury.
"WHO DID THIS?!"
"WHO'S MESSING WITH MY SPELL?!"
At that moment, he looked so angry his facial features seemed ready to crack apart.
If he still possessed a physical body, he probably would have coughed blood on the spot.
After all, since becoming a Horcrux, he had spent fifty miserable years trapped inside a diary.
He had finally devised a resurrection plan.
Finally gathered enough emotion and magic.
Finally escaped the diary's restraints by using Harry as a shield.
Finally found suitable spectators before whom he could dramatically reveal his identity—
Only to get sabotaged at the most important moment.
Internally, he was already screaming obscenities.
"Fake dildo enthusiast"?!
To hell with that!
The entire atmosphere in the Chamber instantly shifted from tense and murderous to absurdly comedic.
At least Hermione and Ciri had completely lost control.
They burst out laughing on the spot.
Even Gilderoy Lockhart—who had been dragged unconscious into the Chamber by Lewis and had spent most of the time cowering fearfully in the corner—couldn't hold back a snort of laughter.
"I'll make you laugh!"
Riddle snarled furiously, whipping out his wand.
"[Flipendo]!"
BANG!
The recently awakened Lockhart was blasted backward four or five meters instantly.
"WHY ME?!"
Lockhart screamed while flying through the air.
A second later he smashed into the wall—
And passed out again.
Why him?
Simple.
Among everyone present, he was both the weakest and the one laughing loudest.
Lewis's group were all dangerous enough that Riddle wasn't confident in instantly suppressing them.
So naturally, if he wanted to vent his anger, the safest target was the weakling.
Then Riddle turned his gaze back toward Lewis.
Someone had interfered with his spell right under his nose, humiliating him without him even noticing.
Among the three present, only Lewis could possibly have done something like that.
"Lewis Green…"
Riddle stared viciously at him.
"What exactly gave you the courage to pull such tricks in front of me?"
"Or is it because you don't yet know my true identity?"
"Is that why you lack proper fear?"
"Swear loyalty to me now."
"And I may spare your life."
"Loyalty?" Lewis echoed.
"To you?"
Having learned everything he wanted, he no longer felt any need to humor Riddle.
"Don't act like your identity is some great secret."
"You're just Voldemort."
Lewis's tone was astonishingly casual.
As though he were discussing the least significant piece of trash imaginable.
"A sixteen-year-old Voldemort…"
"Tom."
"What exactly are you supposed to be?"
"And you think I should swear loyalty to you?"
"You're worthy of that?"
"Actually," Lewis continued calmly, "if you surrender now and obediently hand over the basilisk…"
"…I can spare your life too."
Facing Tom Riddle, Lewis was utterly confident.
Tom Riddle truly had been a genius from childhood.
Otherwise he never could have become the second Dark Lord.
Even before Hogwarts, his talent had already been extraordinary.
During his school years, he repeatedly achieved feats that left others speechless, while gathering a circle of Slytherin followers around himself.
Do you know what it means to complete seven years of coursework in only one and a half years?
There are only two words for people like that:
Academic monster.
Unfortunately for Tom Riddle—
The monster he encountered this time was Lewis.
A genius could still be explained through talent.
But Lewis was a bug.
Something entirely beyond the rules.
The problem was…
Tom Riddle did not know that.
Everything he knew about Hogwarts came from Ron's memories.
And Ron's understanding of Lewis was extremely limited.
Even after doing his best to describe Lewis's genius, the image Riddle received was still heavily distorted.
At the end of the day, Tom Riddle—the heir of Slytherin himself—simply could not imagine fearing some Muggle-born prodigy.
"If you refuse to submit," Riddle said regretfully, "then I have no choice."
He waved his hand.
The basilisk behind him immediately slithered forward obediently.
Then Lewis heard Riddle hiss in Parseltongue:
"Kill them."
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