Voldemort

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...

They say nothing good happens after three in the morning.

Dyroth wholeheartedly agreed, especially as his blood pressure soared and his body tensed up. He didn't need to look back to know who it was.

Quirrell.

The Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor at Hogwarts, and more importantly, the host of the Dark Lord himself—Voldemort.

Dyroth was painfully aware that his surname, Grindelwald, would not go unnoticed. How could it?

Stay calm, Dyroth , he reminded himself, silently repeating the words. With Dumbledore around, as long as I don't act suspicious, Voldemort can't make a move. At least not yet.

Forcing a smile, Dyroth turned around.

"Professor Quirrell, good evening."

"Go-good evening, Mr. Grindelwald! What brings you out here instead of sleeping in the common room?" Quirrell stammered, his nervous gaze flicking across Dyroth.

"My apologies, Professor. I was up late studying and went to the kitchen for a quick snack."

"A snack?"

"Yes, I got a bit carried away with my reading. By the time I noticed, it was already past midnight."

Quirrell blinked, his expression twisting slightly. His rosy complexion suddenly paled, and he looked at Dyroth with an odd mix of hesitation and unease.

Something's wrong, Dyroth thought, sensing the change. Slowly, he began to retreat.

"Well, Professor, if there's nothing else, I'll head back now. Don't want to get caught by Filch, after all." He smiled and moved backward cautiously.

"Wait...wait a moment!" Quirrell's voice quivered, and cold sweat began to dot his forehead as if he were enduring great pain. Yet, he forced a smile.

"Mr. Grindelwald, why not bring your book to my office? I could help you review it."

Dyroth stiffened. Voldemort's taking over.

"I'm afraid it's quite late, Professor. Another time perhaps," Dyroth replied, inching further away.

"Mr. Grindelwald, surely you wouldn't refuse a teacher's invitation?" Quirrell's demeanor shifted abruptly. His voice grew deeper, and an air of confidence suddenly surrounded him.

For a split second, Dyroth lost his composure. Then, instinctively, he activated Occlumency. Legilimency? Damn it, Voldemort's trying to probe me!

He cursed himself inwardly. I shouldn't have agreed to the Weasley twins' midnight snack run. I've been too relaxed lately. Time to sharpen my senses again.

"Professor," Dyroth said with a steady smile, "it's not that I want to refuse, but I have class tomorrow, and Professor McGonagall won't be happy if I'm tired."

Quirrell's expression shifted, clearly surprised by Dyroth's ability to resist the mental invasion. His interest piqued as he observed the young Grindelwald.

"Are you afraid of the professors, Mr. Grindelwald?" Quirrell asked, his voice dripping with curiosity.

"I'm a student, after all. Isn't it normal to respect authority?"

Just then, the sound of footsteps echoed down the hallway.

Finally! Dyroth's heart leapt as the sound grew closer.

"Professor Quirrell, I'm really sorry, but I must be going. Thank you for your kind offer. I'll visit your office another time," Dyroth said hurriedly, turning to leave.

"Mr. Grindelwald," a cold, familiar voice rang out, "shouldn't you be in bed instead of sneaking around like a reckless Gryffindor?"

Dyroth's eyes lit up. For the first time, he was genuinely glad to hear Professor Snape's voice.

Quirrell, visibly frustrated, glanced toward the approaching Potions Master, before turning back to Dyroth, his interest undiminished.

"Until we meet again, Mr. Grindelwald," Quirrell said with a thin smile. "I trust you won't refuse my invitation next time."

"Of course, Professor," Dyroth replied smoothly, his confidence restored with Snape's arrival.

Facing Snape, Dyroth adopted a neutral expression. "Professor Snape, I was just heading back to the Slytherin common room."

"Out for a late-night snack, were we?" Snape sneered, his dark eyes narrowing. "Perhaps Madam Pomfrey's calming draught would suit you better."

"Congratulations, Mr. Grindelwald. Thanks to your 'brave' behavior, you've earned yourself a week's detention. Five points from Slytherin."

Dyroth bowed his head, giving nothing away. "Understood, Professor. I'll report to Mr. Filch tomorrow night."

"Now, back to bed!" Snape barked.

"Yes, Professor," Dyroth replied, his expression composed as he walked away. Behind him, Snape and Quirrell exchanged tense words.

...

In the Headmaster's Office:

Dumbledore sat on a couch, fingers tapping rhythmically on the armrest. His face was creased with worry.

He had been troubled ever since hearing about Ron Weasley's behavior earlier that day. Ron was meant to be Harry Potter's loyal companion, someone to guide and support him in the coming trials against Voldemort. Yet, so far, Ron had proven to be far from dependable.

Mistakes in Potions class could be overlooked, but the events in Flying class were concerning. If Ron's jealousy and impulsiveness rubbed off on Harry, how could he be expected to grow into the hero the wizarding world needed?

As Dumbledore mused over his concerns, the stone gargoyle at the entrance opened, and Snape swept in.

"Severus, you're here," Dumbledore greeted, his voice weary.

Snape's dark cloak billowed behind him as he crossed the room. "Quirrell had a run-in with Mr. Grindelwald tonight."

Dumbledore's eyes sharpened, and he straightened in his chair. "What happened?"

"I believe it was a coincidence," Snape replied. "Dyroth seemed rather disinterested in the encounter, perhaps even repelled."

Dumbledore frowned. "Could he have sensed something?"

"It's possible," Snape admitted. "Dyroth's skill in Occlumency is impressive, even at his age. It's not unthinkable that he could resist Voldemort's Legilimency in his current state."

Dumbledore rubbed his temples. "Severus, I need you to keep an eye on him."

Snape's face twisted into a sneer. "Our esteemed Headmaster, requesting surveillance on an eleven-year-old boy?"

"It's not surveillance," Dumbledore corrected softly. "Just pay more attention to him. He's remarkably close to Harry, and I don't want any… complications."

Snape's expression hardened. "Mr. Grindelwald is far from the reckless fool Harry or Weasley are."

Dumbledore met his gaze evenly. "I trust him, Severus. But we cannot afford any mistakes in Harry's development. He is Lily's only child, and like her, he has those same emerald green eyes."

Snape's jaw tightened, and his body stiffened slightly.

"Severus, you know what's at stake. We must ensure Harry has a perfect environment to grow."

Snape remained silent for a long moment before turning sharply and leaving the office.

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Chapter.50 had been published on patreon already