"Hermione, if you have something to say, it's always bad to jump off a building!"

On the rooftop of the eighth floor, Carl said to Hermione, who was standing on the edge of the rooftop blowing the wind.

He thought about it for days, and finally made up the nonsense, just waiting to explain it to Hermione.

He asked George and Fred to borrow a map of the living spots, and found Hermione on the rooftop on the eighth floor.

When he got here, the girl was like this.

"You're going to jump off the building!"

Hermione gave Carl a blank look.

"So what are you doing?"

Karl wondered.

Hermione glanced at him and said, "I was using Hella to send a letter to your mother!"

Karl's eyes widened, "How do you know my mother?"

Hermione smirked, "I don't know, but Hela does, and I asked her to deliver the letter to your mother!"

"What did you tell her?"

Carl's bad premonition returned.

Hermione covered her mouth and snickered, "I told your mom that you don't sleep at night and run around the school hallways in your skirt!"

I'm going! What hatred and what kind of grudge?

He didn't dare to delay, so he turned around and ran, he wanted to chase Hela back.

That's when Harry and Ron came over.

Harry was knocked on by Carl and almost didn't fall, and Carl was about the same.

However, Karl did not stop for the slightest, and as soon as he stood firm, he continued to run, and Harry did not even have the time to say a word to him.

It's just that in the blink of an eye, the person is gone.

Harry then saw Hermione.

"What's wrong with Hermione?"

Hermione shook her head and didn't answer, just stood there giggling.

She had been thinking about this trick for days.

Every time she thought of Carl using the Polyjuice Decoction to become hers, she was so angry that her teeth itched, and she blushed for no reason.

For this reason, she didn't even pay much attention to Professor McGonagall's lectures.

Now, she finally got revenge on Carl for what he had done before.

Carl was unable to recover Hela, and by the time he ran out of the castle and to the edge of the Forbidden Forest to apparition, Hela had already flown away without a trace.

The next day, at breakfast, Hela sent back a package.

Hermione preemptively opened it before Carl, revealing a pink princess dress and a camera.

Also attached is a letter:

Dear Carl,

Your dad and I can't wait to see what your women's clothes look like.

The film is in the camera, so remember to put it on and take a picture and send it over.

- Louise, who loves you.

Looking at the people around him covering their mouths and snickering, and then at Hermione who was laughing, Carl sat in his seat with an embarrassed face, not daring to move.

This little girl, I really can't mess with her.

......

On Wednesday, at eleven p.m., there is the Room of Request.

The room has been transformed into a place for practicing magic.

When he was in first grade, Carl had visited it countless times, practicing magic alone in his room.

Now, he's here again.

Voldemort didn't lie to Carl, he really wanted to teach him magic himself.

He had to.

Now, he is alone except Quirrell.

Quirrell wasn't incapable, and his infiltration into Hogwarts alone had already shown him to be powerful and forbearing.

However, his status as a Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher meant that his actions in the school were full of constraints, and although Dumbledore was not at the school, Snape kept an eye on him.

Coupled with the fact that Voldemort himself had no power at all, not even a body, and could not use magic on his own, he desperately needed someone who could really help him.

Carl, who happened to be this person.

Although Voldemort would not trust anyone, Carl's relationship with Voldemort made him far more suitable for such a character in Voldemort's mind than others.

Coupled with the talent and talent that Carl had shown, it was exactly what he needed.

Perhaps when he is resurrected, he will consider eliminating Karl as a threat, but right now, he needs Karl far more than he is wary of.

"Use any magic, Carl. Whichever is yours. Voldemort said.

His voice is small and his intonation is so light that it sounds like a whisper.

Teaching Carl in person requires too much physical strength, and this way of speaking allows him to reduce his consumption as much as possible.

Karl nodded, waved his wand, and cast a stun spell on a target directly opposite.

A red light struck the target in the blink of an eye, making a "pop" sound, and the entire target was tilted to the side by the stun spell.

"Good!" Voldemort praised, his voice a little louder.

"A very powerful stun spell, a silent spell, a quick and decisive attack, but there is still one thing missing. ”

"It's your turn!"

"Master?" Quirrell didn't know.

"Cast it once, idiot!" Voldemort reprimanded.

Quirrell didn't dare to resist, and quickly raised his wand to the target by the wall, saying "Fall to the ground".

Then, the same red light.

"See what, Karl?" Voldemort asked.

Carl nodded.

He could see the difference at a glance.

Quirrell's stun spell has no track.

Voldemort duly said, "This idiot's magic is not as strong as yours, nor is it as swift as yours, but his magic has no track. ”

Carl nodded, and he immediately understood what Voldemort meant.

In this life, his innate talent for magic allowed him to learn any magic quickly and powerfully.

But again, he inadvertently overlooked something.

Casting magic is not firing a gun, but many wizards unknowingly use their wands as guns, even though many of them don't know what a gun is.

Apparently, Carl was also guilty of this.

But what could he do to make the trajectory of the magic disappear.

After thinking about it, Karl looked down at the wand in his hand, then at the target in front of him, and waved his wand again.

Then, with a "snap", the target that had been hit crooked by him could no longer bear it, and broke directly from the root and fell to the ground.

This time, there was no trajectory, and even the red light was pitifully weak.

"Very good!" Voldemort grinned, sinister.

Even he didn't realize that he was admiring Carl more and more.

"How did you do that, Carl. Voldemort asked softly.

Carl frowned, he didn't know what to say.

After thinking about it for a long time, he said, "I let it do that." ”

"That's it!" Voldemort's voice became short, though still soft.

"A strong will can easily harness magic and make it work the way you want it!

As he spoke, he glanced back disdainfully, "Just like this idiot, they take a very long time to practice! ”

"And this is almost our innate talent!"

"In the past, the Ministry of Magic made this compulsory for every Auror, Karl, that caused me a lot of trouble......" Voldemort seemed to sink into some kind of memory.

"But master, now they don't do it anymore. Quirrell winced, "Now the Aurors' training is like a family. ”

This time, Voldemort didn't even scold him.

"Yes...... Yes......" Voldemort agreed, "they thought that after the great Dark Lord lost power, these things didn't matter anymore. ”

"They feel that the Dark Lord has been completely defeated and will never come back......"

"A bunch of idiots!"

As if he felt that he had said a little too much, the expression on Voldemort's face narrowed.

"That's all for today's lesson, Carl, come back next Wednesday. ”

Then, he ignored Karl and closed his eyes as if he had fallen asleep.

Without his command, Quirrell began to wrap his turban again.

Soon, Voldemort's face was hidden under the turban again.

Karl didn't ask for anything more.

Although he had only spoken for about ten minutes, Voldemort had taught him far more than he expected.

With a little practice, his spell casting level can definitely be improved by more than one notch.

It seems that no matter how crazy Voldemort is, no matter how perverted he is.

A big guy is a big guy!