MTLNOVEL Chapter 6: chapter 6
Chapter 6: The Hanging Heart Finally Died
On the first floor, in a dark, cramped room, there was only a shabby wardrobe and a small iron bed, making the space look bleak and empty.
In the dim corner near the bed, Voldemort sat on a gray blanket, his eyes fixed intently on his right hand.
Coiled around his fingers was a small green snake.
"Hiss… hiss… hiss…"
Voldemort's mouth emitted a series of snake-like sounds.
The little snake seemed to understand him and nodded in a strangely human-like manner.
After a moment, the snake slithered down from Voldemort's hand, crawled out of the narrow window, and soon disappeared into the night.
"Jacob… what is the secret behind your strength? I will uncover the answer soon. If you can do it, I can do it too!"
Voldemort watched the direction where the snake had vanished and silently clenched his fists.
---
"Petrificus Totalus!"
Plop!
A gray mouse fell straight from the windowsill, frozen solid.
Jacob picked up a green stick beside him and prodded the rodent. It felt like he was poking a stone.
Frowning slightly, Jacob made another simple gesture with his hand.
"Finite Incantatem!"
Squeak!
The petrified mouse instantly regained movement. It jumped up in panic and scurried across the room in search of an escape.
However, the room was sparsely furnished, leaving the frightened rodent with nowhere to hide. Desperate, it made a wild dash toward the half-meter-high windowsill.
"Petrificus Totalus!"
Squeak!
"Finite Incantatem!"
Squeak…
…
After repeating this more than ten times, the exhausted mouse finally gave up. Instead of running, it lay on its back in the corner, playing dead.
Jacob ignored the rodent and turned back to the spellbook in his hands.
As expected, practicing offensive spells was much more effective when using a live target.
However, what puzzled Jacob was the speed at which he had mastered the spell. Even if he was naturally talented, it shouldn't have been possible to cast a relatively advanced spell without a wand after just a few attempts.
His rapid progress wasn't the only strange thing.
That day, when Voldemort had attacked him, Jacob noticed that the spells had barely affected him. They had felt like nothing more than a breeze.
Not even remotely threatening.
According to the spellbook, there was only one explanation for such an occurrence: a massive disparity in magical strength. It wasn't just about practice—his raw power was simply on an entirely different level.
But logically, this shouldn't be the case.
Voldemort was the future Dark Lord—his talent was undeniable. Even if Jacob was naturally gifted, he shouldn't have been so powerful that he could utterly dominate someone like Voldemort.
Eventually, he found his answer in the section of the spellbook explaining the principles of magic:
> "…As wizards grow older, their magical strength increases until they reach a theoretical limit in adulthood. However, if a wizard neglects to practice or refuses to use magic, their power may stagnate or even fade over time. Studies have shown that the strength of one's magic is also linked to the strength of one's soul…"
Reading this, Jacob suddenly realized something crucial.
He and Voldemort were not truly the same age.
Yes, his body was young. But in reality, after traveling through time, his soul had remained that of an adult.
This meant that his magical power had likely carried over from his previous life, allowing him to possess the strength of a grown wizard in a child's body.
When he had faced Voldemort, it wasn't just a matter of talent—it had been an adult fighting a child. No wonder he had overwhelmed him so easily.
"So… will my magic continue to grow naturally? If not, is there a way to surpass this bottleneck?"
Jacob wasn't in a hurry to answer this question.
As the youngest biologist in his previous life, pushing the limits of the human body had been his primary research focus.
Now, the subject of his study had simply changed from humans to wizards.
---
Voldemort sat in his room, flipping through a book absentmindedly. But in truth, he wasn't reading at all.
He was waiting.
The small snake he had released had not returned, and this made him uneasy.
He knew that whenever Jacob closed his door, it meant he was secretly training.
Voldemort had sent the snake to spy on him, hoping to uncover the secret behind Jacob's sudden rise in power.
But now, hours had passed, and the snake was nowhere to be seen…
Finally, unable to suppress his impatience any longer, Voldemort took a deep breath and made his way toward Jacob's room.
His door was on the second floor.
As Voldemort arrived at the landing, he immediately noticed something strange.
Jacob's door was slightly ajar.
As if… waiting for someone.
Voldemort forced himself to stay calm, pushing aside his paranoia. Slowly, he pushed the door open.
Inside, he saw Jacob crouched on the floor, gently poking something with a green stick.
But then—Voldemort's eyes widened.
Something about the stick looked familiar.
Jacob turned and saw Voldemort peeking in from the doorway. A warm smile spread across his face.
Merit points incoming…
"Voldemort! You're here! I was just about to tell you—I've discovered an interesting new application of our abilities!"
Jacob stood up, revealing what was in his hand.
Voldemort's heart stopped.
The 'stick' was not a stick at all.
It was his snake.
Petrified.
His heart, which had been hanging in suspense, finally shattered.
Ding! System detected a slight change in the future Dark Lord's trajectory. Rewarding the host 100 merit points!
Jacob: Huh?
---
Hogwarts
The warm glow of the fireplace made the headmaster's circular office feel as cozy as spring.
"Armando, I'm heading to London. Leave those two children to me." Dumbledore waved two letters in his hand.
"Oh, of course, no problem…" Headmaster Dippet sat at his desk, stroking his messy white beard as he gazed at Dumbledore with tired eyes. "Are you certain? Has he truly appeared in London?"
"It hasn't been confirmed yet, but the signs point to it. And… you know, I can't afford to ignore any news related to him," Dumbledore replied, carefully tucking the letters into his coat pocket. "Besides, my source is very reliable."
Dippet raised an eyebrow. "Let me guess… Scamander told you?"
Dumbledore nodded. "Yes… but I assure you, Armando, Newt is absolutely trustworthy. His abilities speak for themselves."
"I don't doubt his abilities," Dippet said thoughtfully. "So, if this information is accurate… then he truly has resurfaced in London."
"I've been preparing for this confrontation for years," Dumbledore admitted, taking a deep breath. "The only problem is… he has stayed hidden for so long, avoiding me at every turn."
Dippet sighed. "I hope you're ready… But when it's over, don't forget the admission letters. Both children are in the same Muggle orphanage. You'll need to visit them in person to explain everything."
Dumbledore nodded. "Of course."