Chapter 129: Quirrell: Why Does Elavin Feel More Like the Dark Lord Than Voldemort? (Patreon)

Voldemort was utterly dumbfounded.

His escape plan had failed!

He'd been caught again, and his soul had been stuffed into a poop-shaped toy?!

A surge of uncontrollable rage erupted from deep within Voldemort's heart.

He was the Dark Lord!

How could he suffer such humiliation?!

He immediately tried to separate his soul from the poop toy, only to find that the two were fused together, inseparable.

No, it wasn't just "stuck together." It felt more like they were "one and the same." Like the relationship between a person's body and soul, inseparable from the moment of birth.

Realising this, Voldemort was even more bewildered.

What kind of magic was this?!

"Are you satisfied with your new body, Mr. Poop Voldemort?"

Elavin walked over with a chuckle, pinched the head of the poop-shaped toy with two fingers, and lifted Voldemort off the ground.

"Maybe it's time to give you a new name. What do you think of 'Pooperman'?"

"What did you do to me?!"

"Why can't my soul leave this toy?!"

"Let me out!!"

Voldemort screamed.

Only after shouting did he realise, to his shock, that he could speak through the toy.

"Then 'Pooperman' it is, and letting you out is out of the question!"

Elavin swung the poop toy around in circles several times by its pointed tip, then slammed it onto the ground, kneading it like a lump of dough and mercilessly squashing it.

Poop Voldemort let out a pained groan:

"Y-you... what... are you doing... let me go... you bastard... damn... Mudblood...!"

Elavin showed no reaction to the infamous "most vicious word in the wizarding world."

"Can you feel it?"

"Inside this plush toy, you'll never be hurt again."

"I can also tell you that from now on, apart from needing sleep to recover your spiritual power, you won't need to consume anything else!"

"You don't need to eat, drink, or go to all the trouble of parasitising bodies and draining life force."

"You can keep existing like this indefinitely."

"Isn't this the 'immortality' you've always wanted?"

"You should be thanking me!"

Dizzy and disoriented from being swung and kneaded, Voldemort took a long moment to recover.

"Thank you? Bullshit!"

"Existing like this isn't living!"

Elavin raised an eyebrow.

"And what, exactly, is your version of living? Turning yourself into something half-human, half-ghost, half-snake, clinging to existence as a mere soul fragment? No matter how you look at it, my way is better!"

Voldemort fell silent, he found himself unable to argue.

Quirrell, lying on the floor, watched the entire scene unfold and was equally dumbfounded.

What had happened in the last minute was more absurd, more shocking, more mind-boggling than anything he'd experienced in the past year.

Merlin's beard!

What had he just witnessed?!

Voldemort, the terrifying, arrogant, unspeakable Dark Lord who had tormented him for nearly a year, was casually trapped inside a poop-shaped doll, completely incapable of resisting?!

Was this a dream?

Quirrell squeezed his eyes shut, took several deep breaths, and opened them again.

The scene hadn't changed.

Not a dream!

He was truly free from Voldemort's clutches, restored to freedom!

"Wahhh... Elavin, thank you!"

"I... I don't even know how to express my gratitude..."

Quirrell was so overcome with emotion that tears and snot streamed down his face.

"You want to thank me?"

"That's easy."

"Just do whatever I say from now on."

Quirrell blinked. "...Huh?"

"Huh what?" Elavin frowned.

"Don't forget, you're not completely saved yet!"

"Do you think you'll walk away scot-free after working for Voldemort for half a year?"

"Do you think you have many years left to live after having your life force drained by Voldemort?"

"In your current state, you should be deeply grateful that I'm willing to take you on as my subordinate!"

Quirrell was speechless.

He was right... Even if he was free from Voldemort's control, two difficult hurdles still awaited him: facing trial for his crimes and restoring his life force!

Even if Elavin couldn't help with those, the fact that he'd saved him alone was enough to owe him a debt of gratitude.

Besides, Elavin was so talented. Already able to manipulate Voldemort effortlessly in his first year. Being his subordinate wasn't such a bad deal, was it?

Still... Quirrell couldn't help glancing at Elavin again, his thoughts racing.

Was this kid really a Hufflepuff?

He felt more like a Dark Lord than Voldemort!

"Hey, Professor Quirrell!"

"That's a very rude thought you're having!"

"Remember, I'm your saviour!"

Elavin nudged Quirrell a couple of times with his toes, none too gently.

Quirrell: "!"

How did he know?! Could he read minds?!

Never mind that. What mattered most now was...

"E-Elavin... what are you going to do with me?"

"Are you turning me over to Professor Dumbledore?"

"Well..." Elavin fell into deep thought.

Honestly, he hadn't quite decided yet.

Seeing Elavin's hesitation, Quirrell knew this was his only chance. He pleaded,

"I agree!"

"I'll do whatever you say!"

"As long as you can clear my name and... restore my life force, I'll be your loyal servant for life!"

Elavin gave Quirrell a slightly surprised look.

This guy's pretty decisive!

He suddenly wanted to drag Snape over and make him take a good look at what the proper attitude for asking a favour looked like. When you wanted something from someone, you had to demonstrate your value first, explain what you could offer, and then make your request. Not just blurt out, "I'm begging you. Please save her."

"Alright!"

"To be fair, you did help by locating Voldemort and bringing him to Hogwarts."

"Though you served him as a slave for half a year, you haven't actually done anything bad so far."

"And you came to your senses at the last moment."

"I can deal with you leniently."

Elavin conveniently ignored the fact that Quirrell had attacked Gringotts half a year ago.

It wasn't his bank anyway.

He walked over to Quirrell, removed the Magic-Sealing Shackles, dug out the Shock Bullet, casually cast a Healing Charm, and finally fed Quirrell Life Potion 3.0.

"Remember, from now on, you're my subordinate!"

"U-Understood!!"

As the wound healed and Life Potion 3.0 took effect, Quirrell felt a warm current surge through his body. The life force that Voldemort had drained over the past months was rapidly returning.

He was overwhelmed with joy.