Harry Potter: Charlie's Candy Factory

Chapter 82 Resolving Misunderstandings
When the door of the room was closed, Quirrell finally seemed to have been drained of all his strength, and could no longer stand still.

With a "plop", his feet went limp, and he just collapsed on the ground.

The upper body leaned against the wooden door, his chest heaved violently, like a fish about to drown, panting heavily.

After a long while, he finally eased off the sweat-soaked turban on his head, revealing his bald head, and the wriggling, ferocious and disgusting human face on the back of his head, that was exactly his. Master, at this moment, Voldemort can only parasitize on others, relying on such a distressed appearance to survive.

"You trash!!!!"

The moment the hood was taken off, as if some kind of seal had been lifted, Voldemort's blurred face squirmed even more.

He opened his mouth as much as possible and cursed at Quirrell in a hoarse voice.

"How dare you...how dare you be so self-righteous!!"

Quirrell's face suddenly turned pale. Regardless of his still weak body, he staggered up from the ground, changed his original posture with barely support, and knelt down.

The upper body seemed to exert all its strength, sticking to the floor as much as possible, and placed the face on the back of the head at the top of the moment.

His whole body trembled like a sieve, even worse than when he just faced Charlie.

It was as if this hoarse voice, every word of his, was like a painful Cruciatus Curse, which really hit his brain.

"Sorry...sorry...my great master...sorry"

Quirrell's forehead was firmly pressed against the floor, his eyes were closed in pain, his lips trembled so much that he couldn't even say a complete sentence, he could only repeat his sorry continuously, like a broken machine.

"Tell me!!! You bloody idiot!!! What are you thinking!!! Why...why are you going to provoke that God of Plague at this time!!!"

But even though Quirrell has become so humble, Voldemort still has no intention of calming down. He is still squirming crazily on the back of Quirrell's head, as if he wants to rush out of it directly and kill this stupid waste on the spot.

Quirrell shuddered and opened his eyes again in fright, but he still didn't dare to lift his head, so he could only press firmly on the floor.Looking at the dusty wood grain with eyes, he replied tremblingly

"Please, please forgive the ignorance of the slave, my great master... I originally thought, when, when you are resurrected... Our comeback needs, we need money."

While Quirrell was talking, sweat flowed down unconsciously again, fell along his head, and splashed the floor below.

"And he... is a rich guy, and his candy factory is very hidden. Even the Ministry of Magic won't check it..."

Listening to Quirrell's words, Voldemort's face on the back of his head stopped useless rage, and he laughed back angrily, interrupting what the other party hadn't finished speaking, and continued to speak in a voice that was enough to make goose bumps crawl all over his body. down.

"So you think...if you can control him, that would be great...just a simple Imperius Curse, you can subtly make him your puppet, take his factory as your own, and then occupy Everything about him...you bloody idiot!!!!!!"

In the end, the anger finally broke out completely, and it could no longer be suppressed.

He roared crazily, and the noise in his voice aroused the invisible magic power around him. For a while, he was the center and swept around in a circle.

"Boom... rumbling"

There were faint cracks in the glass of the window, and the lesson plans stacked on the desk were directly thrown out.

With more than a dozen densely packed papers flying around, they scattered all over the room.

"My master! I am willing to accept your punishment for my stupid actions, please appease your anger."

Quirrell trembled all over his body, seeing the movement getting bigger and bigger, he didn't care about anything else, and sincerely persuaded with horror in his eyes.

You know, this is Hogwarts... Originally, it was extremely difficult for me to be able to appear here. I was usually as cautious as a mouse, and this was in exchange for the peaceful life of these few days.

If it was really because of such a situation that the "White Demon King" sitting in the academy noticed it carefully, then the end would be death without a doubt! !
Fortunately, although Voldemort was furious, his sanity still remained.

He suppressed the unintentionally raging breath, and returned to Quirrell's skin in silence, wriggling and panting like a person.

"You were deceived by his appearance. Do you think that such a young face cannot be a master of magic? Or is it that his status as the so-called candy factory owner makes him look more like a handless man?" Powerful businessman?"

Although he hibernated back again, Voldemort was still talking endlessly.

"If it wasn't for me, I have been trying my best to hide my existence, restrain my breath, and not be noticed by him, do you know what would happen?! I should really kill you... If it's not that I have no choice, I can't wait to give it to you Top ten Cruciatus Curse!!!"

"Actually, my great master... we can think of a better place."

Quirrell was panting heavily, perhaps because he had resigned Charlie with his words, and at this moment he planned to use this new skill he had inadvertently developed on Voldemort.

"At least, the luck of the misfortune is that... we know that Charlie Black is not on Dumbledore's side... He even seems to prefer you, and like me, in his heart, he believes in you the great power."

"Hmph..." Voldemort's voice fell, and he snorted coldly, with a bit of disdain in his voice, but also a kind of seriousness.
"He never favors anyone... Charlie Black is just a damn speculator... He is far more cunning, powerful... and more terrifying than you can imagine."

Quirrell frowned, his Adam's apple moved slightly, but he didn't speak.

Even though he had infinitely raised his understanding of Charlie Black in his heart, he still didn't expect that his master would give him such a high evaluation.

Voldemort suddenly changed the subject and continued
"But so what? He's a damn speculator. For me now, it's just right... If I can really be resurrected, what does it matter if I accept his favor?"

"My stupid servant... the only thing you are right about today is what you just said to him."

"What is it, my master?" Quirrell hurriedly asked

"As long as the interests are large enough... any misunderstanding can be resolved."

(End of this chapter)