Looking at the elegant handwriting materializing on the parchment, Char took a deep breath, his heartbeat accelerating slightly, his palms growing damp with sweat. He was, after all, facing Voldemort—a wizard who stood at the absolute pinnacle of the magical world. Even if it was through a piece of parchment, even if his opponent was in a weakened state, this was not a confrontation to be taken lightly. Quirrell's fate was a grim testament to the price of underestimating the young Dark Lord.
Though Char was confident in his own preparations, he remained extremely cautious. If anything seemed amiss, he would abandon his plan to acquire knowledge and notify Dumbledore immediately. He carefully thought through every word he would have Shadow write in response.
As his mind raced, the name "Delphi" appeared on the parchment again.
"Junior? Why have you stopped talking? Is my name not to your liking?"
As the words appeared, a potent, bewitching magic began to surge from the elegant script. Even though Char was only looking at the parchment, not facing the caster directly, he felt a wave of disorientation wash over him. For a fleeting moment, he could almost see a beautiful senior girl humming softly, her image shimmering just beyond the page.
But at that same moment, the Guardian Saplings began to sway, their leaves enveloped in a hazy silver light that pulsed with sacred magic. The bewitching power emanating from the parchment was slowly but surely eroded and suppressed, and the image of the humming girl vanished from Char's mind.
He was filled with a chilling horror. That Voldemort's power could be exerted to this extent, even through a simple piece of parchment, was terrifying. No wonder a diary had nearly cost Ginny her life. No wonder Voldemort's personal charisma and powers of persuasion had always been so successful, allowing him to pry even the darkest secrets from his followers.
Fortunately, it was Shadow who was directly facing this magic, and a phantom image of a humming girl held no temptation for a plant. The bewitching magic, designed for the hearts of men, was largely ineffective. Coupled with the sacred protection of the Guardian Trees, the situation remained under control. He even noticed that the [Occlumency Blessing] on his system panel, which had just reached the Black Iron level, was slowly deepening as it fought against this more powerful assault.
Char breathed a sigh of relief. He uncorked two bottles of Holy Tree Potion and, with a wave of his wand, surrounded the saplings in a silvery mist. The sacred magic grew stronger, bathing the greenhouse in a peaceful, moon-like glow that soothed his tense nerves. Only then did he let Shadow reply.
"I didn't say anything because I had a sudden toothache. Your name is just too sweet."
On the other side of the connection, Voldemort was momentarily stunned by the cheesy reply. His expression was quite strange. This boy is surprisingly adept at this sort of thing. His style is quite similar to my own in my youth.
A moment later, a look of triumph appeared in his eyes. It was clear the boy had taken the bait. It was time to get to the point. After a few more lines of flirtatious preamble, he controlled the quill and wrote:
"I have told you my secret. In exchange, you must tell me one of yours. That's only fair, isn't it? I heard that you independently bred a mutated subspecies of Devil's Snare, a truly amazing achievement. So, do you know of any special way to deal with it?"
At that, Char suddenly understood. So, the two-faced man was looking for a way to get past the Devil's Snare obstacle. But in the original story, that trap had been extremely easy to pass, even for three first-years with a simple fire spell. It shouldn't have caused Quirrell any trouble at all. Unless…
"It must have been Aunt Sprout," Char realized. "She must have replaced the original Devil's Snare with my mutated variant and used some method to catalyze its growth. She might have even added some fire-prevention measures, which would have given him a lot of trouble. That's why he's trying to get the plant's weakness from me."
A strange look appeared on Char's face. It was true that he had cultivated the plant. But what Voldemort didn't know was that he hadn't even gotten it to full maturity yet. A specific weakness? Other than its general fear of light and fire, he really didn't know.
But that didn't mean he couldn't use this opportunity to fish for information of his own. Voldemort stood at the pinnacle of the magical world. Though he was known for the Dark Arts, his Transfiguration skills were on par with Dumbledore's. In fact, by combining Transfiguration with dark magic, his attainments in that specific field were likely even higher. And unlike Dumbledore, who preferred to guide students to their own conclusions like a frustrating riddler, Voldemort was far more direct. His dealings were often naked exchanges of interest. Do something for him, and he would teach you magic. It was that simple. If he could get even a few pointers on Transfiguration, he might be able to break through his current bottleneck.
The thought solidified in his mind. He had Shadow reply.
"The weakness of the mutated Devil's Snare? I bred them, so of course, I know. The weakness is—" The words appeared, and on the other side, Quirrell and Voldemort held their breath, eager for the answer. But then, a new line appeared. "No. Headmaster Dumbledore told me that I must not tell anyone about this weakness. As a reward for keeping the secret, he said he would personally teach me Transfiguration. His teachings are too precious. I cannot reveal this secret."
Voldemort's eyes filled with anger. The answer was only a step away. "Damn it!" he cursed silently. But he quickly calmed himself. The boy is almost mine. The only thing stopping him is his promise to Dumbledore, and the offer of Transfiguration lessons.
A sneer formed on his incorporeal lips. The quill in Quirrell's hand began to move.
"I see. That is truly a precious opportunity. But I don't understand… Headmaster Dumbledore is a very busy man. I have never heard of him personally tutoring a first-year. What if he forgets? And as far as I know, he always prefers students to think for themselves. Are you confident you can learn from his teachings?"
The series of questions seemed to leave Char speechless. His reply was hesitant. "This… no way… then what should I do?"
Voldemort's eyes flashed. He immediately pressed his advantage. "Since the Headmaster has not yet paid you, it doesn't count as a binding contract, does it? You can certainly tell your little secret to your dear senior. In exchange, I also have some experience with Transfiguration. My teachings might be more suitable for you than the Headmaster's."
As soon as the words appeared, Char's defenses seemed to completely crumble. His replies became a series of hesitant, erased, and rewritten words. Voldemort watched, a look of grim certainty in his eyes. He knew human nature. Once someone began to feel tempted, it was only a matter of time before they convinced themselves.
Sure enough, a moment later, a new line appeared on the parchment. "Can you teach me Transfiguration first?"
Voldemort was not angry, but delighted. This was just the boy's last, token resistance. His own innate powers of persuasion were simply too strong. All he had to pay was a little insignificant knowledge, and in return, he would gain the key to the Philosopher's Stone, and a powerful new pawn. He was not so stingy as to refuse.
"Of course. What do you wish to know about Transfiguration?"
Seeing that line, Char's hand tightened. He took a deep breath, forcing his racing heart to calm. The closer you are to success, the more cautious you must be.
After a long moment, he slowly had Shadow write down his confusion. "I encountered some trouble while learning the Snake-Summoning Charm. I want to master the process of creating smoke from nothing and then transforming it into a snake, but the process is too complicated. I tried to start by focusing on a small detail, like the scales, and then build up from there, but I've made no progress. Do you have any ideas?"
A hint of surprise appeared in Voldemort's eyes. He even felt a flicker of admiration. Most first-years were content to just cast spells; who would bother to explore their underlying mechanics? This boy was different. He reminded Voldemort of himself as a student. If only his talent wasn't so mediocre, he thought. But then, improving magical talent is something I have delved into deeply… If this boy could truly help him get the Philosopher's Stone, Voldemort wouldn't mind giving him some training.
Facing this simple, childish problem, he gave a detailed, expert explanation.
"From the details to the whole is an effective approach in many disciplines, but not in Transfiguration. Transfiguration is a holistic change. The parts do not change independently; they are linked. To study one part in isolation is to guarantee failure. You must approach it from a holistic perspective, but simplified. Instead of focusing on scales and fangs, focus on the transformation of the silhouette, from smoke to serpent. Remember: as above, so below. The above and the below are one, and thus, miracles are accomplished."
The words struck Char like a bolt of lightning. The fog of confusion that had clouded his mind for days vanished in an instant. Countless new inspirations flashed through his mind.
The next moment, he had Shadow reply. "Senior, I'm going to take a shower now."
He then tore up the parchment and buried it under the Guardian Tree.
On the other side, Voldemort, having just delivered his masterful lesson, saw the reply and stared, a bad feeling rising in his nonexistent gut. A shower? At a time like this?! He had Quirrell write several more tentative messages, but there was no response.
Char had no intention of continuing the conversation. He was not greedy. He had gotten what he wanted, and to continue would be to risk staring too long into the abyss. He turned his attention back to his magic, Voldemort's advice echoing in his mind. Focus on the whole, not the parts. As above, so below.
He waved his wand. "Serpensortia!"
A cloud of smoke exploded and twisted into a roaring black snake. Char's eyes remained fixed on the overall change of magical power, from the silhouette of smoke to the silhouette of the serpent. All his previous, misdirected efforts suddenly paid off, the accumulated knowledge clicking into place. The feeling of looking at the moon in the water was gone. The moon was right in front of him.
On his system panel, a hint of bronze luster on the [Transfiguration] skill instantly flared and solidified. Promotion! At that same moment, the luster on his [Serpensortia] spell began to rise like a mad tide. The silver light was instantly consumed by a brilliant gold, which in turn blazed for a moment before being overtaken by the cool, unshakable brilliance of platinum.
Char took a sharp, deep breath, his eyes wide with utter shock.
"This is…?!"