Chapter 2
For the past ten years, Voldemort has been raising Leon—though it sounds unbelievable—Voldemort told Leon that he was his father, and as for the name, Voldemort gave Leon his previous surname, while Leon kept his first name.
In fact, Leon has been quite curious over the past ten years about why Voldemort took him away. Logically speaking, Voldemort should have harbored deep hatred for the Potter family by now, and killing Leon would have been a cheap way to deal with him.
However, Leon wasn't foolish enough to ask Voldemort. The situation clearly indicated that Voldemort didn't want Leon to know his true heritage. Could it be that Voldemort wanted Harry and Leon to turn against each other, leading to a grand revelation?
Ahem, alright, Leon admits he has watched too many dramas.
Overall, Voldemort has been quite good to Leon over the past ten years, teaching him magic and letting Nagini duel with him, so Leon's magical level is quite high now.
Of course, all of this is based on theoretical knowledge; after all, Leon doesn't have a wand to practice with, and Voldemort can't possibly lend him his wand.
"Leon!" It was Voldemort. Leon looked towards the source of the voice, which was Nagini supporting Voldemort with her serpentine body.
"Father." Leon nodded slightly as per the old custom.
Voldemort looked at Leon and said, "Leon! You should have received your acceptance letter from Hogwarts by now." Leon replied, "Yes, Father. Am I going to Hogwarts?" Thinking of this, Leon felt a bit excited, as in his previous life, he had once fantasized about receiving an acceptance letter delivered by an owl.
"Yes," Voldemort said, "my arch-nemesis, Dumbledore, is the headmaster of Hogwarts. I want you to infiltrate Hogwarts."
Although Leon was excited, he was still just an eleven-year-old child.
"Father, what about my identity?"
Heh, if people found out that he was Voldemort's "son," Leon would definitely be wanted by the Ministry of Magic.
"Your identity is that of a country wizard from a pure-blood family. Your parents are already dead, and you have been fostered in an orphanage."
Uh, Voldemort, why does that identity sound so familiar? It seems to be your own background, except you replaced your wizard and Muggle heritage with pure-blood.
However, Leon wouldn't be foolish enough to expose it. After all, this issue itself is Voldemort's Achilles' heel, and how would Leon explain that he, who had never been more than ten kilometers outside this forest, knew such little-known information about the magical world?
"Then, Father, how do I get to England?" This was a question. Although Leon had started studying the knowledge of Apparition, he had never practiced it.
"No problem, Quirrell!" Voldemort called out a wizard.
In a corner of the forest, Quirrell respectfully stepped forward, first kneeling to Voldemort, then to Leon.
"Master, young master, Quirrell is at your service."
Quirrell? This guy has already been recruited by Voldemort; it seems there's no need to worry about how to get to Hogwarts.
"Quirrell will take you to England, and I will also go to England."
Leon knew that Voldemort was beginning to plot for the Philosopher's Stone, but he wouldn't be foolish enough to ask.
"Quirrell, I will possess you, and then we will go to Hogwarts together."
Quirrell excitedly said, "Oh, my master! What an honor, it is Quirrell's privilege!"
Then Voldemort transformed from his "blood infant" state into a black mist and entered Quirrell's body. At that moment, Quirrell's hair began to fall out, and a face appeared on the back of his head—Voldemort's face!
Leon watched closely from the side, feeling it was very terrifying, but after years of following Voldemort, Leon was no longer the ordinary student he once was.
Leon did not lose his worldview; after all, his worldview had already formed. Voldemort's years of ideological distortion had only made Leon superficially appear to be a qualified Death Eater. However, Voldemort did help Leon strengthen his will, teaching him mind-blocking techniques, and he had made considerable progress. After all, Voldemort is an extremely powerful Legilimens, and under his ten years of guidance, Leon's mind-blocking skills could be considered exceptional, but he still couldn't create false memories like Snape that could deceive other Legilimens.
After years of practicing mental closure, Leon had reached a point where he could calmly view some situations that would be extremely shocking to Muggles and even to ordinary wizards.
So Leon, standing aside, appeared very calm, a calmness that belied his age.
"Oh, it's barely acceptable," Quirrell, with Voldemort on the back of his head, began to speak. "Alright, Leon, we should be leaving now, Quirrell is on the move."
At that moment, Quirrell seemed overly excited as if he had set a Guinness World Record, his speech somewhat disjointed.
"Okay, okay, my master, Quirrell is very lucky. Alright, young master, please hold onto Quirrell's hand tightly."
Quirrell bent down vertically, placing his right hand on his left shoulder, while his left hand reached out to Leon.
At that moment, Leon felt as if his heart was a sun with a dog. Aside from the excessive angle of his bent waist, it was almost like a scene at a dance where a boy invites a girl to dance.
Leon suppressed the urge to hit Quirrell and grabbed his wrist—of course, he couldn't grab his hand; otherwise, it would really look like they were dancing—then Leon felt the pain from ten years ago when Voldemort had repeatedly apparated with a one-year-old Leon.
To this, Leon could only say, it's the same old formula!
After a journey of apparating, Quirrell finally brought Leon to a remote, dilapidated alley.
"Young master, Quirrell can only bring you here. To avoid being discovered, you will have to go to the Leaky Cauldron by yourself from here."
Leon waved his hand and said, "Alright, just give me the directions, and I'll go to the Leaky Cauldron myself."
Following Quirrell's directions, Leon made his way to the Leaky Cauldron.
As one of the entrances to Diagon Alley, the largest shopping street in the British magical world, it was incredibly dark and dirty. A few old ladies sat at the foot of the building sipping sherry, one of them smoking a long pipe. A small man wearing a top hat was chatting with the bar owner, who had almost no hair and looked like a withered walnut.
With so many amazing spells at your disposal, how can you wizards not keep your houses a little cleaner?
Although Leon had undergone training in high school and had long been cured of his years of obsessive cleanliness by his instructor, one still had to maintain hygiene!
Leon felt that if he could manage to stay calm that day, his mental closure technique would likely improve significantly.
"Hey, a new student from Hogwarts?" the bar owner noticed Leon entering the shop.
Leon simply replied, "Yes."
"Haha, it's that time of year again for Hogwarts admissions; time really flies," the bar owner sighed. "Why are you here all alone, where are your guardians?"
"I'm an orphan."
"Alright, sorry," the bar owner realized he had misspoken. "Come on, old Tom will buy you a butterbeer."
Heh, Tom, almost forgot that the owner of the Leaky Cauldron was named Tom. Thinking about this, Leon found it strange, considering that during Voldemort's peak, countless wizards had fallen victim to him and his minions, yet the owner of the Leaky Cauldron, Tom, shared the same name as Voldemort—who was once named "Tom Marvolo Riddle." Having been around Voldemort for many years, Leon knew that Voldemort despised being compared to others; he wanted to be unique. Yet, Voldemort had not killed this old Tom.
Could it be that old Tom was a hermit, like the Sweeping Monk in "Demi-Gods and Semi-Devils"?
Leon couldn't help but give a nod to his imaginative thoughts.
"Come on, have a butterbeer."
Looking at the butterbeer before him, which resembled beer, Leon wanted to ask, is this considered selling fake goods?
Hogwarts knew that although butterbeer is called butterbeer, it is not real beer. It is made from cream, brown sugar, butter, lemon juice, salt, and cream soda.