Chapter 613: Chapter 613: Scar (Edited)
Wormtail lowered his head and dragged Lucius Malfoy away. Lucius's heavy body left a long mark on the grass, as well as a few drops of a foul-smelling yellow liquid.
Voldemort watched as Lucius was taken away and felt the fun rapidly fading, replaced by the pain in his arm once more.
With a sweep of his robes, Voldemort hurriedly departed. He needed time to contemplate his next plan and assess the state of his Horcruxes.
Once her husband was out of danger, Narcissa sat on the ground, crying uncontrollably. Tears streamed down her cheeks and fell to the ground, forming large drops.
Both Barty Crouch Jr. and Snape fell silent, silently watching Narcissa cry.
After a while, she managed to calm down gradually.
As she raised her head and saw the mess in her own garden, she felt her world turning dark. Her family was in danger, her husband had suffered a cruel fate, her son was forced into dangerous tasks, and a band of lunatics had invaded her home...
Damn it! How had her once beautiful life turned into this nightmare? Narcissa felt a glimpse of resentment, not understanding why her family, a pure-blood family and loyal followers of Voldemort, was being treated this way.
At that moment, Snape approached her and handed her a handkerchief to wipe her tears. Narcissa then remembered that there were still two loyal followers of Voldemort around her. She quickly concealed her expression of resentment and dried her tears with Snape's handkerchief.
The handkerchief was soft and carried the scent of lilies.
Once she had dried her tears and regained her composure, Narcissa looked at the two men who had extended their help to her with gratitude. She stood up and thanked Snape and Barty solemnly.
"I thank you very much for extending your help."
"It's nothing," said Barty, waving his hand, "I believe Lucius is still loyal to the Master; he just made a mistake and can redeem himself. It would be too severe a punishment to execute him directly."
However, Barty Crouch Jr.'s words had the opposite effect, and Narcissa trembled even more.
Redeem himself? What more do they want them to do? They even handed over their house! Since Voldemort turned this into his lair, gold had flowed like water. If they continued to oppose in this way, the Malfoys would end up like the Weasleys.
Snape, on the other hand, remained silent with a somber expression, not revealing what he was thinking.
He knew that Dumbledore had prepared a large quantity of Polyjuice Potion, which intrigued him. It couldn't be that Dumbledore did it just to improve his potion-making skills. The magical world didn't have a rule that said making a potion perfectly ten times would unlock automatic brewing.
Therefore, he could only deduce that someone needed to regularly take those potions.
And considering Voldemort's return, Snape could assume that Dumbledore had infiltrated a spy among the Death Eaters.
In these past few days, he had been speculating and trying to figure out the identity of the spy. And now, he was beginning to have a suspicion in his mind.
Voldemort, after abandoning the idea of torturing Lucius, paced around the mansion's hall.
"Diary, crown, cup, ring, locket..." he muttered as he counted the objects that were his Horcruxes. Due to the number of fragmentations and the time that had passed, Voldemort could no longer sense the current state of the Horcruxes, not even when one of them had been destroyed.
The only one he could still have some sensation of was the Horcrux he had left at Azkaban.
Suddenly, Voldemort felt a sharp pain in his head. He realized that his Horcrux at Azkaban had been destroyed.
Rage consumed him. Even though he despised it, she was still one of his Horcruxes. Did she really think his soul could be split infinitely? Voldemort had decided from the beginning to create only seven Horcruxes; that was his plan, and he couldn't change it on the fly.
While Voldemort's mind wandered, he suddenly found himself transported to the Hogwarts Common Room, where a red-haired student was speaking to him.
Just as Voldemort was trying to carefully observe the scene before him, the surroundings changed once again, and he was back in the Malfoy Manor.
"Interesting," murmured Voldemort as he narrowed his eyes. Through his recent anomalous perception, he had noticed something, something very intriguing.
...
"Harry, are you okay?" Ron looked at his good friend with concern. Something seemed off today as Harry's scar on his forehead was hurting for no apparent reason.
This worried Ron.
"I can bear it..." Harry breathed heavily as beads of cold sweat appeared on his forehead.
This year, his scar had been especially active since the summer holidays, causing him to witness several unsettling scenes. He had shared his findings with the people he trusted, but hadn't received many clear answers. Dumbledore and Tom seemed to know a lot but preferred to keep it secret. As for Ron, he was willing to offer all the help he could.
However, this time, for some strange reason, Harry decided not to share what he had seen with his dear friend Ron. He felt that at certain moments, he could sense Voldemort's inner thoughts, experiencing his anger firsthand. Using the words Harry hated, it felt like he was becoming Voldemort.
[Maybe I should send a letter to Sirius.]
The idea faded as soon as it occurred to him. Sirius himself had told him not to think about getting in touch during the rest of the year.
[I can't do anything.]
Harry felt a wave of frustration. A surge of anger washed over him, toward Ron, toward Tom, toward Sirius, and even toward Dumbledore...
"Why don't we finish eating and then go talk to Dumbledore?" Ron cautiously suggested, discreetly nodding toward the center of the teachers' table. Harry looked in that direction and saw Dumbledore enjoying his lunch.
Today, Dumbledore seemed to be in very good spirits. His plate held a generous portion of mashed potatoes with a thick gravy on top, and beside it, a massive ribeye steak that looked to weigh at least a pound. Additionally, he had poured himself a large glass of French red wine.
Not only did Dumbledore have a significant amount of food on his plate, but he also savored every bite. He quickly cut the steak with his knife and fork, bringing the tender piece of red meat to his mouth. Just watching his expression made one's appetite open up.
Chapter 614: Chapter 614: Interrogation Techniques (Edited)
The beef glistened with a layer of high-quality buttery fat; even from a distance, you could smell the aroma of the meat. When cut, the beef was crispy on the outside and tender on the inside. The exterior, under the roasting effect, took on a characteristic dark brown hue of roasted meat, giving off a delightful aroma as it mixed with the hot oil and proteins. Inside, the meat was juicy and tender; when cut with a fork, myoglobin and fat melded together, exploding in a burst of flavors on the palate, offering an explosive culinary experience.
Fat and calories, those things etched into the human soul, were utterly satisfying.
Being a centenarian, consuming such a greasy meal was definitely detrimental to health, but Dumbledore didn't think about that at all. He savored the delicious food in front of him as if it were his last supper.
This differed slightly from the amount of food Dumbledore used to consume. Madame Maxime, who was beside him, was also surprised and asked, "I didn't expect you to have such a good appetite today!"
The unusual has an explanation, and the man enjoying his meal at the teachers' table was not really Albus Dumbledore but his brother, Aberforth Dumbledore. While his brother, Albus Dumbledore, enjoyed the seaside view at Azkaban, he was enjoying the hospitality of Hogwarts' kitchen.
"Since I can still eat, I will eat more," Aberforth responded vaguely.
What he meant was: after my brother returns, I'll have to go back to the Hog's Head Inn. There, I'll have to chop vegetables, cook, and wash dishes by myself. Although magic helps, it's still a bother. As an older bachelor, Aberforth detested cooking; when he ate, he tried to cheat and served semi-processed dishes to his customers. Aside from butterbeer, nothing else was cooked with care in the bar.
Since the people who went to the Hog's Head Inn were not exactly decent people, no one complained that the food was bad. For them, any food that wasn't toxic was enough.
For Aberforth, this lunch was a feast, and he enjoyed every bite, but after this meal, he didn't have the next one guaranteed, so he had to enjoy it as much as possible.
However, in Madame Maxime's ears, this phrase turned into the lament of an old man enjoying his old age: "At this age, I still have to enjoy life! Tomorrow's sun or death, who knows which will come first?"
Hearing this, Madame Maxime felt a little melancholic, but when she saw Dumbledore drinking red wine with goat cheese, all her sympathy for him disappeared.
How dreadful! Why don't you choke to death?
Seeing Dumbledore enjoying his meal so enthusiastically, Ron's appetite immediately improved. The pastries, steaks, and stews in front of him suddenly seemed delicious.
Harry noticed that Dumbledore was in a good mood and felt he might try to talk to him.
"After lunch, we'll go see Professor Dumbledore," Harry decided, planning to catch Dumbledore when he left the Great Hall.
While everyone enjoyed their lunch, Tom and the real Dumbledore returned to Hogwarts.
Due to a strike by the Hogwarts owls, both had to use Apparition Charm to get to Hogsmeade and then take the number 11 bus back to the school.
"I want a two-story hamburger, filled with cheese, pickles, and tomatoes, and the patty must be thick..."
"I want a strudel, one made with pure animal cream."
After the challenging battle, the topic of conversation between Tom and the real Dumbledore as they returned to school was what to eat for lunch. Both were engaged in lively discussion on the subject of food. As for Voldemort, Tom and Dumbledore thought they could discuss it after lunch.
And they weren't worried about arriving late and finding the castle's kitchen closed. Because the headmaster was also hungry.
Once in the castle, they went directly to the headmaster's office. About three minutes later, two large plates of delicious hot food appeared on Dumbledore's desk. Tom got the hamburger he wanted, while Dumbledore received a fresh strudel.
The only regrettable thing was that Hogwarts didn't have Coca-Cola Zero, only frozen pumpkin juice.
"Even watermelon or peach juice would do..." lamented Tom.
Dumbledore didn't want to talk to him and focused on finishing the lunch in front of him.
When both were satisfied and the dishes disappeared like the wind, they began to address the main topic.
"It's a pity we couldn't eliminate him in Azkaban today," Tom said as he took a sip of the pumpkin juice in his cup.
"It's normal, I never expected to achieve everything at once, but there are few places where the Apparition Charm can't be used like Azkaban," Dumbledore said without regret, in fact, he was quite satisfied with what they had accomplished today.
They had destroyed one of Voldemort's horcruxes and had caused him an injury as severe as a devastating blow to his body, which was a great victory, something he hadn't achieved in previous magical wars.
Listening to the inability to use the Apparition Charm, Tom seemed intrigued. Wasn't Hogwarts one of those places where the Apparition Charm couldn't be used?
To kill Voldemort, they would undoubtedly need to destroy all his horcruxes first and then take him to a place where he couldn't escape using the Apparition Charm. Escaping, though shameful, meant staying alive. A wizard of Voldemort's level, if he could escape, would become a great threat to security.
Therefore, it was absolutely necessary to lure Voldemort to a place where he couldn't use the Apparition Charm. Considering everything, Hogwarts was the best option. However, this plan would turn Hogwarts into a battlefield, something that Dumbledore probably wouldn't allow.
"In the short term, he won't cause much trouble," Dumbledore said with great confidence in his spell. He thought Riddle (Voldemort) would dedicate most of his attention to dealing with the spell.
"Let's hope so, but we must also put the search for the horcruxes on the agenda," Tom said impatiently, "and what about those people infiltrated among the Death Eaters? Can they provide any help?"
Dumbledore didn't respond directly. Instead, he lifted the teapot and poured himself a cup of hot tea. "Miss Granger is here, I believe she has a lot to tell you."
At that moment, Hermione was pacing outside the headmaster's office. She was eager to know how Tom had fared, if he and Dumbledore had returned. If possible, she would ask them what they had been doing.
And if possible, she would be willing to use some "interrogation techniques." She believed that Tom would surely confess obediently.
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