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Chapter 107: His Name
🕑 Added 2025-04-08 11:56:20 +0000 UTC
Voldemort’s sphere of influence was, in truth, limited strictly to Britain. While his ideology had reached other countries, it remained just that—an influence, not power.
He was formidable only within the UK. If he dared extend his ambitions beyond its borders… well, needless to say, the Ministries of Magic in other nations would waste no time in eradicating the Death Eaters.
This wasn’t just a domestic issue anymore. It would be considered foreign interference.
And most nations did not align with Voldemort’s ideals—especially not the United States.
Noah knew this all too well. The romanticism and idealism of Americans rivaled even that of the French. The wizards there—particularly those from Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry—were fundamentally opposed to any ideology resembling Voldemort’s.
Noah had visited the U.S. before and understood the stance of their Magical Congress clearly.
Even the Ancient One—Master of the Mystic Arts—held a distaste for Voldemort’s views. Yet, she refrained from using her authority to interfere.
Perhaps, in her eyes, this matter was too insignificant to warrant her attention. But should the situation escalate? Who knows what action she might take?
“So if you believe that Voldemort—this so-called mysterious and mighty figure—will actually succeed… he’s probably already on the path to failure. Ambition is one thing. But action? That brings only destruction.”
“Why?” Draco asked, his face full of disbelief, still not quite understanding.
Noah chuckled at Draco’s astonishment. This boy had such a limited perspective. But he didn’t mind—many within Britain were equally shortsighted. Some saw clearly, others only by sheer luck.
“Because wizards have always been equals,” Noah explained. “If you’d read enough history, you’d know about the relationship between wizards and Exorcists.”
“Exorcists? You mean that group of Squibs?” Draco scoffed.
“You idiot,” Noah snapped. “Haven’t you read the International Accord on Exorcists? When a wizard and an Exorcist accept the same mission, the wizard must prioritize the Exorcist’s interests! If even Exorcists are guaranteed such protections, do you really think the international magical community will allow someone like Voldemort to rise unchecked?”
Noah looked at both Draco and the equally puzzled Harry like they were slow-witted.
He continued with a smile, “Other Ministries haven’t stepped in because they don’t interfere in foreign affairs. But if someone like Voldemort actually seizes power, it would stir up radical movements in other countries. That’s dangerous.”
“So…” Draco finally began to grasp it. He swallowed nervously.
“So, they will definitely act to overthrow Voldemort’s regime—completely and thoroughly,” Noah said coldly. “And not just with force. You probably don’t even understand what a puppet government is, let alone how interest groups reshuffle after a coup. It’s hard to say whether your family would even exist by then.”
He said it flatly, ignoring the way Draco’s face turned ashen.
Even the professors nearby looked unsettled. They had tried not to think too deeply about it—but it wasn’t beyond their comprehension.
Until now, they had only focused on how to defeat Voldemort from within, for the sake of equality between Muggle-borns and pure-bloods alike. But now… factoring in global politics changed everything.
“Noah, did your teacher tell you all this?” Professor McGonagall asked, regaining her composure.
“No. I figured it out myself,” Noah replied honestly. “I grew up in the Muggle world. I read a lot. Honestly, the political games in the magical world are nothing compared to the Muggle world. Magic is powerful, yes, but there's more to life than spells and potions.”
“Like what?”
“There are too many examples,” Noah replied. “From ancient times to now. Remember that Eastern European superpower that collapsed right before last Christmas? That’s politics. And my teacher—she gave me a protective charm. If I’m in danger, I can summon her.”
“What?” Harry and Ginny both exclaimed.
“Yes,” Noah nodded. “She’s watching. Maybe she’s waiting. Or maybe she just doesn’t want Voldemort to succeed. If she steps in, Voldemort is done. But I believe we should handle this ourselves, because…”
He didn’t finish, but the professors understood what he meant.
They had all read Muggle books. They understood the consequences of a failed magical regime spilling into the non-magical world.
And calling for outside help would be a massive embarrassment.
The only reason the British Ministry of Magic once held sway over the American Magical Congress was because of one man—Newt Scamander—who earned immense respect there.
“Thank you for the reminder, Noah,” McGonagall said, steadying herself. “I’m sure others have thought of this too. But damn those fools for gambling with fate! I’ll inform the Headmaster. We need to move quickly.”
Even though she sounded calm, McGonagall was anything but.
She found it increasingly difficult to remain composed around Noah—the Ravenclaw boy who was far wiser than his age.
Draco stood silently. He was smart enough to realize that—even if Noah’s words weren’t entirely accurate—they were far too credible to ignore.
He felt as if the sky was crashing down on him.
The man he and his father worshipped… was nothing more than dust in the eyes of the truly powerful.
Even if Voldemort succeeded, that success would be short-lived.
Worse yet, the entire country would suffer.
“Is this… really what we should be doing?” Draco whispered to himself.
His worldview was crumbling. He desperately wanted to rush home and warn his father.
Especially now that he knew Noah’s teacher might be able to kill Voldemort effortlessly—and Snape hadn’t denied a word of it!
By then, they had reached the Gryffindor common room.
It was Noah’s first time here. He looked around the cozy circular room filled with plush chairs. Many Gryffindors were working on homework.
When they saw Professor McGonagall, they stiffened. Her strictness was well known.
But then their eyes landed on Noah—and the excitement was immediate.
“Oh my God, that’s him!”
“He’s so handsome!”
“Handsome? He killed a basilisk and tied with Professor Snape!”
“If only he were in Gryffindor! We’d win the House Cup for sure!”
“Forget it. He’d never choose Gryffindor—there aren’t enough books here for him.”
Noah felt awkward hearing their whispers.
Tied with Snape? That only happened because they held back. In reality, Snape had mopped the floor with him.
But he didn’t correct them. Explanations were pointless—and honestly, it felt good to be admired after all the times Snape had scolded him.
Sometimes, Noah was surprisingly childish.
“Miss Ginny Weasley, please come here,” McGonagall called out.
Ginny, who had been doing homework, jumped to her feet. “Yes, Professor? Oh—hi, Harry!”
She gave Harry a nervous but bright smile before joining the group.
Once they reached a nearby classroom, McGonagall got straight to the point.
“Miss Weasley, I believe you’re aware of recent events. I need to ask you a few questions.”
“No! I don’t know anything!” Ginny said quickly, her face pale with fear.
Her panicked reaction said it all.
She turned and tried to run, but Harry caught her swiftly.
Noah watched and sighed. He pulled out his wand and pointed it gently at Ginny.
Sometimes, students could do what professors couldn’t. No one would blame him.
“Ginny, calm down. We’re not here to hurt you—we’re here to protect you,” Noah said gently, releasing a soft stream of silver light from his wand.
His magic glowed with a calming luster.
Slowly, Ginny’s trembling eased. Her dazed look remained, but she was no longer frantic.
The spell he used was a simple Calming Charm—unremarkable, but incredibly useful.
Professor McGonagall didn’t interrupt. She watched and sighed.
“Ginny,” she asked softly. “Can you tell us what you know?”
“Yes…” Ginny whispered. “I found a notebook in my basket—it could talk. I learned a lot from it… and he told me a secret.”
“What secret?” McGonagall asked.
“He said he knew Hogwarts’ secrets. Then we opened a secret room. He taught me how to control snakes… and then… he told me to write things on the wall… with blood. I didn’t want to… but…”
“She was clearly under hypnosis,” Snape muttered. “What happened next?”
“I don’t know! I’m so scared…”
“Do you remember his name?” Noah asked gently.
“He… he said… his name is… Tom Marvolo Riddle.”
The room went silent.
“What?!”
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