HP: Dangerous Professor from Azkaban

"Not to boast, Professor, but bewitching hearts has always been my forte. Ginny opened her entire soul to me—and that was precisely the nourishment I needed most. I grew stronger, far beyond little Miss Weasley, strong enough to control her into doing things she didn't even know about…"

"Such as?" Sagres promptly pressed, playing the role of a good straight man.

"Such as opening the Chamber of Secrets, strangling the school's roosters, leaving horrifying blood messages on the walls, and releasing the Basilisk to attack Filch's cat and a Muggle-born wizard."

"And then?" Sagres continued to press, perfectly playing the role of a listener.

"Indeed," Lord Voldemort's voice remained calm, yet it carried a bone-chilling coldness. "Of course, she knew nothing of this. That's the most amusing part. I truly wish you could see her later diary entries… how splendid…"

He mimicked the little girl's voice, but combined with his massive and grotesque body, it sounded terrifyingly abnormal:

"Dear Tom, I seem to be constantly losing my memory, and my robes are covered in chicken feathers…"

"Dear Tom, what did I do on Halloween? A cat died…"

"Dear Tom, Percy said I look terrible, like a different person…"

"Dear Tom, I don't remember where I went…"

"Dear Tom, what should I do? I feel like I'm going crazy…"

"Dear Tom, I suspect… I am the murderer!"

"Dear Tom…"

"Hahaha—!"

The flesh monster let out a cruel, wild laugh, making the stone walls of the Chamber of Secrets hum.

"It wasn't until the school began investigating that the silly little Ginny finally stopped trusting her 'Dear Tom' and decided to discard the diary…"

The flesh monster's voice was full of mockery. "And it was precisely at this moment that our 'great' Professor Lockhart, by a twist of fate, obtained it…"

At this, he glanced at Lockhart, who was sprawled on the ground, his row of eyeballs swirling with intense disdain and ridicule.

Lockhart twitched weakly a few times but still couldn't manage to struggle to his feet.

"To be honest, fooling Hogwarts' Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor was even easier than fooling a little girl… That was quite unexpected."

He added coldly, "Dumbledore must truly be senile to hire such an incompetent Professor… But it's also for the best; otherwise, my path to rebirth might have been even more arduous."

"Hahaha! After all, to deal with this imbecile, all I had to do was throw a few nauseating compliments and draw some enticing grand visions when he was helpless, and he would do my bidding… Heh, truly more useful than a House-elf."

Lockhart on the ground twitched again, as if stung by the words. Sagres also raised an eyebrow slightly, sensing that Lockhart might be a little displeased.

"Wow.. Anything else?"

"Ha, of course!" The flesh monster suddenly turned to Sagres, its massive body leaning down with immense pressure. "Then, the great Lord Voldemort, with only a fragment of memory from when he was sixteen, accomplished this arduous feat of rebirth!"

As he spoke, he raised a twisted, sharp claw, its tentacles wriggling like living things.

"I told Lockhart that I knew how to resolve the Chamber of Secrets, and he naturally believed me completely and came. Then I released the Basilisk, to prevent that starved beast from disturbing my sacred ritual… haah.."

"Finally, I made my last use of this waste, temporarily detached from the diary, and found a brand-new, perfect body."

He proudly displayed this crimson, hideous body. "As early as sixteen, I discovered it—Salazar Slytherin's most perfect creation of flesh magic! At that time, I was powerless to command it, but now, for a soul without a body, isn't this the most ideal vessel?"

"It is indeed very strong," Sagres nodded in agreement.

"Heh, you are honest…" Lord Voldemort looked at Sagres, his voice full of feigned regret. "But what a pity, I still have to kill you!"

"That is indeed a great pity…" Sagres also nodded in agreement.

"Hahahahaha—!"

Lord Voldemort immediately burst into a rampant shriek, the eerie echo making the torches in the Chamber of Secrets flicker wildly.

"Obliviate!"

A sudden voice interrupted Lord Voldemort's wild laughter, followed by a blast of icy-blue light that shot from behind him, accurately hitting the massive flesh body!

Sagres couldn't suppress the smile on his lips—he had personally watched Lockhart, dragging his broken body, silently crawl up behind Lord Voldemort and then raise his wand to cast this spell.

And the dazzling magical glow revealed the attacker's astonishing mastery of the spell, something Sagres had not expected.

Most importantly, if it had been a typical offensive spell, it would not have harmed this flesh monster but instead nourished its body. Obliviate, however, specifically targeted the mind, not the physical form.

The torches in the Chamber of Secrets flickered, and the atmosphere grew heavy.

The flesh monster's massive body froze in place. The row of eyeballs that had previously gleamed with cunning, triumph, or coldness were now vacant and bewildered.

Lockhart, having exhausted his magic, collapsed completely and lost consciousness. Sagres, meanwhile, observed this unprecedented change with keen interest.

The creature's multiple heads clumsily rotated, its empty eyes scanning the gloomy Chamber of Secrets, Lockhart lying on the ground, Sagres standing still, and its own crimson body bristling with tentacles and sharp claws.

Then it let out a confused, pained growl. Its voice was still grotesque, but all sense of purpose was gone, leaving only primal irritation and disorientation.

"What… is this? Who… am I?"

The words echoed hoarsely, no longer clear sentences, but more like the unconscious groans of a beast.

Sagres stood calmly in place, his wand slightly raised but not aimed at the creature. A playful smile lingered on his lips, as if he were watching the opening act of an absurd play.

The flesh monster looked down at itself in confusion: "…This body… why do I have tentacles? And—"

It used one tentacle to count its heads: "—a string of heads? Am I a monster?"

Sagres raised an eyebrow. "I'm afraid so, Tom. But considering your past tastes, this current appearance might actually be more presentable."

The flesh monster eyed Sagres suspiciously. "'Tom'? Is that my name? It sounds too ordinary."

Sagres shrugged. "Don't worry, you later changed it to a more 'resounding' name—Lord Voldemort, the Dark Lord. But for now, we should focus on the immediate problem."

The flesh monster raised a tentacle and poked its own face. "The immediate problem? Do you mean I look like a failed experiment crossbred from a Troll and an octopus?"

Sagres let out a light chuckle. "A very accurate description. But strictly speaking, this is the masterpiece of a Wizard, and you… well, you're its current occupant."

The flesh monster was silent for a moment. "…So, I'm a tenant? What's the rent? My soul?"

Sagres nodded. "More or less. But the good news is, you've already paid in advance."

The flesh monster looked around and noticed the unconscious Lockhart. "And this person is… my previous landlord?"

Sagres smiled. "No, he was your 'assistant' in becoming what you are now. Though his main contribution was lying on the ground."

The flesh monster frowned in thought. "Did I do something to him? I vaguely remember… the phrase 'making use of waste'?"

Sagres raised an eyebrow again. "Don't be too hard on yourself, he wasn't very useful to begin with."

The flesh monster suddenly became alert. "Wait, if I am the Dark Lord—assuming I truly was—then who are you? My sworn enemy? My follower? Or… my creditor?"

Sagres replied slowly, "For now, I'm just an observer. But if you wish, we can redefine our relationship. For example, the only person willing to talk to an amnesiac monster?"

The flesh monster let out a cold laugh. "How touching. So, what should I do now? Rule the world? Destroy the world? Or… save the world?"

Then he lowered his gaze to his grotesque body and fell silent.

Sagres calmly watched the massive flesh monster before him, not a trace of fear in his eyes. For this was a creation Sagres had personally shaped a thousand years back—if he wished, with just a thought, he could turn this hideous body into a docile puppet.

Only…

He narrowed his eyes slightly, studying the visibly "shrunken" monster, his mind deep in thought.

"Stay here for now." Sagres casually waved his wand, and the flesh monster froze in place, a flicker of human-like fear flashing in its crimson eyes.

Then Sagres transformed into a raven's shadow and shot upward, flying directly into the gaping mouth of the Slytherin statue, disappearing into the dark passage.

~~~~~~~~~~

o(*≧▽≦)ツ💫 Read up to 12+ chapters in advance on P@treon/DarkDevil1 👉 Get early access & exclusive perks!✨