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Two months had passed
Dyroth found his life at Hogwarts intensely demanding yet rewarding.
His days followed a rigorous routine: classes, followed by extensive study in the library, and then the often unpleasant but educational visits to Snape's office for potion critiques.
Saturdays were different.
He would first meet with Quirrell, ostensibly for Defense Against the Dark Arts tutoring but secretly for lessons in the Dark Arts from Voldemort, who shared Quirrell's body.
Afterwards, Dyroth would usually take a walk through Diagon Alley, observing and sometimes subtly influencing the magical marketplace.
During these two months, Dyroth had made remarkable progress in his magical abilities.
His inherent talents, amplified by relentless dedication and late nights studying, led to significant advancements in both Potions and Transfiguration.
Many of his spells had reached a competent level. In the darker arts, under Voldemort's tutelage, he had grasped the fundamental principles of even the most forbidden curses.
Meanwhile, the shops Dyroth had established in Diagon Alley were thriving, quickly capturing a significant portion of the alley's business.
While Dumbledore's reputation offered a degree of implicit protection and the Ministry, under Fudge, seemed surprisingly uninterested in scrutinizing his ventures, the established pure-blood families whose businesses suffered were resentful but found themselves with little recourse.
Another Saturday arrived, and Dyroth made his routine visit to Quirrell's office.
He couldn't help but notice Quirrell's deteriorating health. Initially, the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor could lecture and demonstrate spells for hours, but now, he struggled to speak more than a few sentences without gasping for air.
Dyroth, however, remained focused on absorbing as much dark knowledge as possible.
Quirrell's well-being was secondary to his own ambitions.
Following his lesson, Dyroth, as usual, relayed any information he had gathered about Harry Potter to Voldemort.
But this time, instead of his usual whispered instructions, Voldemort lifted his head, his red eyes, visible through the back of Quirrell's head, fixing a chilling gaze on Dyroth.
"You will no longer concern yourself with gathering intelligence, Dyroth," Voldemort's voice, a chilling whisper, seemed to emanate from Quirrell's very being.
"I have more direct tasks for you now."
A cold dread washed over Dyroth. He mentally connected the timing with what he knew of Voldemort's objectives.
The Sorcerer's Stone! Halloween was just a few days away.
He recalled the troll incident during the Halloween feast in the original accounts.
This time, however, Voldemort's plan seemed to be taking a different shape.
Voldemort's next words confirmed his apprehension.
"On Halloween night, I will create a diversion. Amidst the chaos, you will proceed to the third floor and retrieve what is hidden there.
Do you understand?"
Dealing with a three-headed dog alone? Dyroth thought, a frown creasing his brow. He addressed Quirrell, "Professor, I understand, but there is a significant obstacle guarding the area – a three-headed dog. Are you expecting me to handle this on my own?"
"Are you questioning me?" Voldemort's tone sharpened, a dangerous edge entering his voice.
"Of course not, Professor, but there are practical considerations.
A major disturbance at Hogwarts will alert all the faculty.
Even if I manage to bypass the creature, retrieving the object without Dumbledore's notice will be incredibly difficult.
If he discovers our aim, everything you have planned will be jeopardized."
Dyroth hoped his logic would give Voldemort pause, but instead, a cruel smile stretched Quirrell's lips.
"My dear student, I have anticipated these challenges."
Voldemort's voice dripped with malice. "Consider this: a missing classmate. Under the pretense of searching for a lost friend, you will have greater freedom to move within the castle.
That persistent Ravenclaw girl who often seeks your company would serve perfectly, wouldn't she? A Muggle-born – her absence will not be questioned for some time."
"Before you enact this, inform the other prefects of her disappearance. The professors are less likely to impede a prefect on such a task."
Voldemort, you're truly reckless! Dyroth thought, a bitter taste in his mouth. Asking me to deceive everyone so directly?
He had been walking a precarious line, manipulating those around him for his own ends, but now he felt trapped in a far more dangerous game.
Voldemort wasn't asking for his input; he was issuing a direct command. Even if Dyroth refused to cooperate with the "missing friend" aspect, Voldemort could still create a diversion and send him to the third floor, potentially putting Hermione (or another student) in genuine danger. Worse still, this entire scenario could be a carefully laid trap by Dumbledore, using the Stone as bait.
Dyroth realized that merely being on the third floor during the chaos would likely implicate him, regardless of his actual intentions.
His only hope lay in establishing a credible alibi for his whereabouts during the critical time.
Voldemort's voice cut through his turbulent thoughts. "Do you have any further objections, Dyroth?"
"No, Professor," Dyroth replied, his voice carefully neutral, knowing he had little choice but to play along for now.
"Do not fail me, Dyroth," Voldemort warned. "Your rewards will be substantial."
As Dyroth turned to leave Quirrell's office, the forced composure vanished from his face. With only three days until Halloween, he had to act swiftly to implement his own counter-plans.
On his way to Snape's office, Dyroth's mind raced. Protecting Hermione was paramount, but he knew Voldemort could easily choose another target like Draco, Pansy, or Daphne if she wasn't available.
He needed to create a separate, seemingly unrelated event on Halloween night, a gathering point that would draw students to a safe location without implicating him.
And whoever was drawn there needed to be capable enough to handle potential threats.
After considering various possibilities, an image of Ron Weasley came to mind.
The Gryffindor boy, often overlooked and underestimated, might be the ideal, if somewhat clumsy, instrument for his plan.
He would need to find a way to subtly guide Ron's actions without arousing suspicion from either Voldemort or Dumbledore.
Ensuring the students gathered safely in the Great Hall during the diversion was crucial.
Arriving at Snape's office, Dyroth forced his intricate plotting to the back of his mind. He couldn't afford any lapse in focus now; Snape's sharp eyes and even sharper tongue would immediately seize upon any sign of distraction.
As always, it was time to brace himself for another grueling session of Snape's relentless criticism.
"....."