Chapter 123: 123: Voldemort Became a Little Chubby

Neville Longbottom was terrified out of his wits. The chubby boy had always been a timid soul, and being left alone in the eerie, foreboding Forbidden Forest felt like a death sentence. "Hermione... Please... come back soon," he muttered under his breath, his voice trembling. Huddled beneath a tree, Neville tried to make small noises to fill the oppressive silence around him. Anything to make the pitch-black forest feel less like it was closing in on him. He didn't notice the bone-chilling presence creeping up behind him. Unaware of the danger, Neville sat there, shivering, desperate for the torturous night to end. Out of the darkness, Voldemort—reduced to nothing but a sliver of his fractured soul—descended upon Neville. It wasn't out of admiration for the boy or any latent talent; it was sheer desperation. The Dark Lord needed a host, and Neville was the only living being available. It took no effort at all for Voldemort to invade Neville's body. No one would have noticed the change—not immediately. But hidden beneath the folds of Neville's robes, a grotesque, malevolent face now appeared, grotesquely embedded into the boy's pudgy chest. Neville was horrified. He didn't understand what was happening, only that his body no longer obeyed him. He couldn't move, couldn't speak—he was merely an unwilling spectator to his own existence. This... this must be some sort of curse... maybe a witch from the Forbidden Forest... he thought desperately, his mind racing. Maybe I'll end up like one of those poor souls, lured into a swamp and never returning to Hogwarts! Meanwhile, Voldemort—now controlling Neville's body—sighed in irritation. The boy's round face contorted into a bizarre mixture of determination and malice as the Dark Lord muttered to himself, "Nolan Von Draugr... Consider yourself lucky. You've earned the dubious honor of making me remember your name. Mark my words, you will die by my curse. You'll fall long before Potter ever does." Before he could dwell further on his plans for vengeance, a golden blur leapt from the trees above, landing gracefully in front of him. It was a girl—or at least, she looked like one. Her pointed ears and ethereal aura marked her as something more: a half-elf. She tilted her head curiously, her sharp eyes scanning Neville's awkward stance. "I sense something strange," she said, her voice melodic yet laced with suspicion. "What are you doing here? I thought Hogwarts students weren't allowed in the Forbidden Forest." As she stepped closer, she continued to talk, her words tumbling out in rapid succession. "Are you with that annoying guy who was here earlier? He smelled like trouble. I could tell he was up to no good. Did he send you to find me? Honestly, I haven't had a decent meal in days! Ever since I tasted smoked turkey, I can't stand the bland fruit in this forest anymore..." Voldemort clenched Neville's fists in barely contained fury. He wanted nothing more than to curse this irritating creature into oblivion. But he was too weak, and Neville's body offered no advantage. Suppressing his rage, he forced himself to play along, putting on the most innocent expression he could muster. "Big sister, are you an elf?" Voldemort said sweetly, his voice dripping with feigned sincerity. The half-elf's face lit up. "Oh, yes, yes I am!" she exclaimed, delighted by the question. Her joy wasn't just from being recognized as an elf, but from being called big sister. Though her youthful appearance suggested she was no older than fourteen, the half-elf proudly puffed out her chest. "I'm an Irish elf," she declared with a grin. "Don't worry, elves are peaceful creatures. But what are you doing here?" Her tone shifted to that of a teacher scolding a wayward child. "I... I got separated from my friends," Voldemort replied, swallowing his disgust. "The Forbidden Forest is so scary... Isn't it? I... I think I'm lost. Everyone says the forest is enchanted—that it devours anyone who enters. Am I going to be eaten too?" The half-elf, whose name was Ligeitolli, crouched down to pat Neville's head comfortingly. She wasn't much taller than him, but the gesture was oddly maternal. "Oh, you poor thing," Ligeitoli cooed. "Don't worry. Big sister is here to help. I'll make sure you get back to Hogwarts safe and sound." She offered her hand, and Voldemort, suppressing his growing irritation, took it without hesitation. He had no intention of staying in the Forbidden Forest any longer than necessary. As they began walking, Voldemort silently reevaluated his plans. This Nolan Von Draugr... He's far more dangerous than I anticipated. Perhaps... Perhaps a less conspicuous pawn is what I need. After all, who would suspect this nobody of a boy? Ligeitoli's cheerful chatter continued as she led them out of the forest, completely oblivious to the dark force she had just befriended. Voldemort smirked inwardly as he contemplated his current situation. He knew that possessing Neville Longbottom would continuously drain the boy's strength, but why should he care about the fate of this chubby, insignificant child? On their way back, Ligeitoli—the ever-chatty half-elf—chattered on without restraint, voicing her endless complaints about life in the Forbidden Forest. Voldemort gleaned quite a bit of information from her ramblings: the elf had a particular fondness for the food at Hogwarts, and she seemed to have a mortal enemy named Nolan Von Draugr. However, Voldemort noticed that her so-called hatred for the boy didn't feel genuine. It was less malice and more incessant grumbling. Suddenly, a cold voice cut through the air: "Where do you think you're going, half-blood elf?" Nolan emerged from the darkness, Hermione at his side. His sharp eyes narrowed as he glanced suspiciously at Neville. "Longbottom, why do you look so calm and carefree? Not afraid of the Forbidden Forest anymore? You certainly weren't like this earlier," Nolan said, his voice tinged with skepticism. Ligeitolipuffed out her chest proudly. "Why should he be scared with me around? I've been protecting him!" "Is that so?" Nolan raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. He then sighed. "Whatever... What a miserable night. Ligeitoli, you shouldn't stay in the Forbidden Forest tonight. Come back to Hogwarts with me." "Really? I can go in?" The elf's face lit up as she practically jumped for joy. "I've heard you all sleep on velvet beds. Can I sleep on one of those soft beds too? I'm so tired of sleeping in tree holes and shabby huts! And the food—oh, the food! Can I have some of that delicious food too?" Nolan smirked, his tone teasing. "I thought elves didn't care about material comforts. Aren't they supposed to value nature above all else? Clearly, you didn't inherit those noble traits. No wonder you're a half-blood elf." "Stop calling me that!" Ligeitoli shrieked, baring her teeth like a cornered animal. She looked ready to leap at Nolan and bite him. While Nolan and Ligeitoli bickered, Hermione appeared deeply troubled. Her eyes darted anxiously to Voldemort, still posing as Neville. "Neville, have you seen Harry?" she asked, her voice heavy with concern. Voldemort's heart skipped a beat, but he quickly donned a mask of innocence. "No, Granger. I haven't seen him." "Why are you calling me Granger?" Hermione muttered distractedly. "Oh, I just hope Harry's okay... The Forbidden Forest tonight has been terrifying. I never imagined..." Hermione trailed off, keeping silent about her and Nolan's earlier encounter with Voldemort. She didn't want to cause unnecessary panic. As they walked, Nolan took the lead, guiding the group out of the forest. "If you're worried about Potter, there's no need," he said nonchalantly. "Snape is with him, and never underestimate the abilities of any Hogwarts professor... Well, except maybe the Divination professor. What's her name again?" "Trelawney," Hermione whispered. "Ah, right—Professor Trelawney," Nolan replied, his tone amused. "I remember her for those eccentric round glasses of hers." He strolled casually ahead, speaking as if nothing unusual had happened earlier. Then, with a sideways glance at Hermione, he added, "By the way, Granger, if you want to survive in the wizarding world, you might want to drop that habit of yours. Wizards don't believe in God."