HP: I got Transmigrated into the World of Magic [Chapter 75: I AM LORD VOLDEMORT!] (Patreon)

I gather my carved wooden gifts together and study them more closely. I frown at them, second guessing myself that they'll be well-received. I wish I could make them actually do something. Oh well, nothing to do for it now. 

Plus I still have to try and work out some issues with Harry's. I'm fairly certain my ingwaz-thurisaz-ingwaz triplet is charging and being depleted correctly, having tried to use the rune scheme myself. 

But I have yet to figure out if the haglaz-uruz-algiz layers over the ingwaz center will actually work the way I hope they will. I didn't notice any difference, but then, my past is quite a bit milder than Harry's. 

I had long since decided to forgo the naudiz auto-draining scheme until I'm positive that Harry wouldn't die while testing it.

I decide I'll go see Professor Babbling again, show her my progress and see if she knows a better way to test it. On that note, maybe I'll take the wooden charms as well, see what she thinks about making them actually do something. I stash the six frames in my usual spot and head out.

To my surprise, I ran into a sizable group of Slytherins coming in from outdoors, laughing cruelly. Idly I wonder if they were doing something cruel, or if they simply don't know another way to laugh. To my dismay, this group includes both Daphne Greengrass and Draco Malfoy.

"Well, well, what have we here?" Draco says, sneering. "A filthy mudblood walking all alone in such a big, dangerous castle? You know, you could get hurt doing that."

I cross my arms, then lift my hand to rub my chin. "Hmm. Yes. Yes, I see. I could very well stub my toe. Thanks for the warning, Mr. Malfoy! You're such a good friend." While I'm talking, I cast a privacy charm over the entire group.

"I'm not your friend!"

"Really? Well, that's too bad. This isn't about trying to steal your minions, is it? I told you I was only joking about that." I smile a bit at a couple of the Slytherins apparently looking around, trying to find the source of the light buzzing. Daphne's eyes narrowed at me.

"No, this is about you being inferior," he says with a sneer.

I raise my eyebrows. "Oh? On what grounds? Besides hair, I mean. I admit you are far superior to me in that regard. Although perhaps with a cut and a bit more care, I could—"

Predictably his face turns red with anger. "Blood, you peasant! You're nothing but a mudblood; you don't belong here."

He's right, I don't belong here, but that's not why. "This again? Tell you what, why don't you ask Professor Snape about his parents? Go ask how far the 'Snape' surname goes back in the magical world." My eyes briefly flicker over to Daphne and I grin evilly. 

"Actually, here's a better idea: go and ask your father who Tom Marvolo Riddle Jr. is, and ask him who his parents were."

Daphne's eyes widen dramatically while Draco's narrow. "Why would I care about some stupid wizard I've never heard of?"

"Oh, you've heard of him, Mr. Malfoy. He goes by a different name now." I sharpen the magic that I've been holding since I saw the group and my finger starts to glow the same light green as the Killing Curse. 

Several Slytherins take half a step back at that. 

I spin around and start writing letters in the air, confident that he's sufficiently interested to let me finish.

TOM MARVOLO RIDDLE

I reach out a tendril of magic to pluck one letter at a time and move them down onto a new line. Not in order, though; don't wanna ruin the surprise for everybody but Daphne. I wish I could do the easy swish thing that Voldemort actually did to rearrange them, but oh well, it doesn't take long

I AM LORD VOLDEMORT

I spin back around to find extremely pale faces, including Daphne's. Ah, I didn't point out the anagram thing when I told her. Maybe she really believes it now.

"Oops, you didn't know his real name, did you? Go ahead, Mr. Malfoy, ask your father who Tom Marvolo Riddle Sr. was. Ask him to look up the Gaunt family. I'd love to be a fly on the wall when he figures that out." I hold my hand out behind me and absorb the letters back into my hand. I don't recover any magic, but I figure it looks cool.

"You-you know nothing!" Draco says, terrified.

I laugh cruelly. "Don't I? Well I guess you've got nothing to lose, then. Your father will find out his master really does believe in blood supremacy, right? Your father will find out that he isn't simply being used for his money, won't he? And then you won't take over the family fortune one day, only to be used in the exact same way, will you?"

My previously-primed, wandless Disarming Hex hits him right after he draws, and his wand sails right into my outstretched hand. 

"Your family may buy you political connections – for now, at least – but once you pull this wand out, blood means nothing. The bastard son of a Muggle and an inbred near-Squib who rose to challenge Dumbledore should have shown you that."

"You've dug your own grave, mudblood," he growls.

I shrug. "Perhaps we both have. Think! You're smarter than this! What's the average life expectancy of a Death Eater, Mr. Malfoy? I guess you don't have to worry about your fantastic hair going gray. At least my life is my own, and I don't have a family fortune to lose along with it. All-in-all, despite being what you call a mudblood, I've got it easier than you...at least as long as you continue thinking you have to follow in your father's footsteps."