The Charles Becomes a Wizard

"Hehe, Mr. Phantomhive is so smart, can't you really guess my identity?" The man laughed softly.

The worst premonition had come true! Charles clenched his hands behind his back.

But why did this person appear in his room? What did he want from him?

"I still need to ask. It would be very rude to you if I accidentally recognized the wrong person." Ciel stood up slowly and gestured to the man, "Mr. Voldemort, please take a seat."

The man, the Dark Lord who had disappeared for eleven years, glanced at Ciel, then walked straight to the chair where Lucius had just sat and sat down.

"I wonder if Mr. Voldemort has any advice for your late night visit?"

"I just heard that there is a punk who can make Dumbledore lose face," Voldemort leaned back on the chair with his legs crossed, and looked at the boy in front of him inch by inch with his eyes as if he was real, and played with the wand in his bony hands. "It looks interesting. I can give you a chance to be my apprentice. What do you think?"

Although he was asking, his attitude was condescending and it was obvious that he would not accept rejection.

The status of an apprentice in the wizarding world is protected by law. To formally recognize a master, both parties need to sign a magic contract, and the master-apprentice relationship is almost like that of a father and son.

When the status of the teacher is high, the status of the apprentice will naturally rise as well. The teacher has certain control and educational rights over the apprentice, and the honor received by the apprentice is shared by the teacher. Conversely, the apprentice can also inherit the inheritance left by the teacher after his death.

"Then, what do I have to pay?" Judging from the current situation, as a young wizard born in a Muggle family, it is not easy to survive under the wand of this pure-blood madman.

Considering Voldemort's status in the wizarding world, his willingness to accept Ciel as his apprentice might be seen by many wizards as a compliment to him.

But Charles didn't want this kind of "promotion". He didn't like the feeling of being controlled, nor did he want to get too involved in the struggle between black and white wizards. He didn't have any big ambitions.

God knows, he is just a little Muggle wizard who wants to make more money in the wizarding world by taking advantage of the Malfoy family's status.

"It's simple. I need you to bring a few things out of Hogwarts." Voldemort narrowed his eyes and said with great temptation: "As long as you bring those things out, I will accept you as my apprentice. By then, you will be the most powerful person in the magic world."

You speak as if you have already defeated Dumbledore and reached the top. Ciel secretly complained, but of course he didn't dare to say it out loud.

"..." Charles considered his tone for a moment, then shook his head. "I'm sorry, but I don't think I'm qualified enough to be your apprentice."

As if he had never thought that he would be rejected, the fake smile on Voldemort's face suddenly disappeared, and a huge magical pressure rushed towards Ciel.

The silky voice was like a venomous snake tightly wrapped around the boy's neck: "I advise you to reconsider it. Mr. Phantomhive should be a smart man. A smart man should always know what is the best choice for you."

Charles' face turned pale instantly, and beads of cold sweat broke out on his forehead. His body trembled involuntarily and he almost couldn't breathe. As time passed, large golden stars appeared in front of his eyes and his mind became blank.

His bloodless lips moved, and after a long while he finally squeezed out a sentence from between his teeth: "Sebastian!"

The voice was so faint that Voldemort, who was sitting opposite him, did not hear it clearly. He just thought that the boy knew he was wrong. However, Voldemort wanted to teach the boy a lesson, so instead of reducing the magic pressure around him, he even increased it a little.

If you dare to refuse the request of the great Dark Lord, you will have to pay a certain price!

At this moment, there was a slight sound of breaking air in the room, and several silver table knives flew towards Voldemort. Voldemort rolled over to avoid them, and then watched the knives sink into the wall behind him.

If Voldemort hadn't reacted quickly enough, he had no doubt that the knives would have pierced his throat.

"Who is it!" The slight sting on his cheek made Voldemort alert instantly. How could there be someone else in this room!

"Oh my," a low and elegant voice sounded, and a man in a neat tuxedo appeared silently behind Voldemort and kicked him out with one kick. "As a guest, it is really rude to use violence against the host."

Voldemort, a pure-blooded, fragile wizard, was suddenly hit hard. He fell from mid-air and held his lower back for a long time without getting up. Voldemort, who had not suffered such a loss for many years, had blood flowing from the corner of his mouth. He waved his wand at the person who came in angrily, but the wand in his hand was snatched away by someone before he could utter the spell.

"Please do not use such dangerous items in front of the young master," the man raised his hand and touched his forehead, "After all, the young master is very fragile. It would be bad if he was hurt."

"Sebastian!"

"Long time no see, my young master." The man called "Sebastian" turned around and smiled softly at the boy who was exhausted due to fear.

"Are you laughing at me?" Charles glared at him.

"How could that be? I just think that this posture is very suitable for the young master." Sebastian half-knelt in front of the chair and stretched out his hand to straighten the man. "The fragile, pitiful and vulnerable look is really nostalgic. No matter how many times I see it, I think it is very suitable."

"You're too slow." Charles rolled his eyes at him.

"It's obvious that the young master wants to ignore our contract." Sebastian gently held the boy's left hand and kissed the back of his hand in a submissive gesture. "You know, as long as you call me, I will appear."

"Ah," Charles lowered his eyelids and gave the demon in front of him a meaningful look. "We'll talk about other things later. Now, let's entertain our guests properly."

"Yes, my lord." Sebastian stood up neatly, took a step back and stood behind the boy's chair like he had done long ago.

Ciel leaned back, resting his elbows on the armrests of the chair and placing his hands on his lips. He tilted his head and looked at Voldemort, who was still sitting on the ground in a mess. "Mr. Voldemort, I think we can have a good talk about the problem just now."