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There was a figure in the distance that was looking at the group with gloomy eyes...
"Damn it! I knew it wasn't that simple!" Voldemort hissed from the shadows, his face grim.
From his vantage point, he could see more than just Snape. Harry, along with two Weasleys.
If it had been just Snape, Voldemort might have risked it. But with Harry and the others involved, the situation was too risky. If anything happened to them, Dumbledore would tear Hogwarts apart.
In his current weakened state, facing Dumbledore head-on was nothing short of suicide.
"What… what should we do, Master? "
"Should we...should we wait until they leave?"" Quirrell's trembling voice made Voldemort's anger flare even more.
"Wait? For what? How long do you think a troll can distract Dumbledore?" Voldemort snapped. "He'll be here before we even get close to our goal!"
Taking a deep breath to calm his frustration, Voldemort muttered, "Now, all we can do is hope that my 'good disciple' retrieves what we need. But something tells me that won't happen easily."
From the moment Voldemort had laid eyes on Dyroth Grindelwald, he had recognized the same ambition within him—an ambition that was not easy to control.
Dyroth had far more resources at his disposal than Voldemort did at that age, and he was much better at concealing his true intentions.
Without capturing someone like Hermione or one of his friends as leverage, Voldemort doubted Dyroth would serve him loyally. Yet, there was still hope. After all, negotiating with Dyroth was still a possibility, but Dumbledore wouldn't give him any such chance.
"Retreat. This operation has failed. We'll look for another opportunity latter," Voldemort ordered Quirrell, though his mind was already racing with a new plan. Quirrell's condition was worsening by the day. Time was running out, and if they didn't obtain the Philosopher's Stone soon, they might not survive.
...
On the third floor, Snape stood before Harry and Ron, his eyes cold and unyielding.
"P-Professor..." Percy began hesitantly, trying to intercede.
"I didn't ask for your input, Mr. Weasley," Snape cut him off sharply, leaving Percy no room to defend Harry and Ron. Inside, Percy was growing more and more anxious. He wished he could speak for them, or at least give them a chance to explain why they had ventured into the forbidden area.
Harry, under the weight of Snape's piercing gaze, finally broke. "Professor... we saw Dyroth coming here, so we followed him..."
"Snort!" Snape sneered in disdain.
"And tell me, Mr. Potter, where is Mr. Grindelwald now? The one you claim to have seen?"
Harry hesitated, "We... lost track of him..."
"Mr. Potter, unlike you, Mr. Grindelwald doesn't wander the castle aimlessly."
"But we did see him!" Ron interjected, unable to hold his tongue any longer. "He was heading to the third floor, we saw him with our own eyes!"
Snape's expression grew more mocking. "Oh, the great detectives, then. Tell me, Mr. Weasley, where is your suspect now?"
Ron fell silent, unable to answer.
"Well, it seems our two little detectives found nothing after all." Snape's voice dripped with sarcasm. "For trespassing in a forbidden area and slandering a fellow student, ten points will be deducted from Gryffindor."
Ron opened his mouth to argue again, but Percy quickly pulled him back, knowing things would only get worse if Ron continued.
"Professor Snape, I deeply apologize for their behavior. I'll take them back right away," Percy said, ushering the two younger boys away as quickly as possible.
Snape watched them leave, his gaze lingering thoughtfully in the direction of Quirrell's office.
...
As they walked back to the Gryffindor common room, Ron was still fuming.
"Snape must've hidden him! That evil Grindelwald goes to his office every day—who knows what they're plotting together!"
"That's enough, Ron!" Percy snapped. "Don't you think you've caused enough trouble already? Do you realize how hard it will be to regain those lost points?"
"But we're Gryffindors! We can't just sit back and let that evil Slytherin get away with it—"
"Did you even see him? I followed you, Ron. I didn't see Dyroth anywhere!" Percy interrupted, frustration boiling over. He didn't want to reprimand Harry, but he had no concern about scolding Ron, especially after their mother had entrusted him with keeping an eye on his younger brother.
He couldn't let Ron keep getting into trouble. If their mother found out that Ron had gone after Dyroth again, there was a real chance she would take him home. And while Percy was upset, he didn't want that for his brother.
"Percy, I'm telling the truth! We saw him! Harry, tell him!" Ron pleaded, looking at Harry for backup.
Percy eyed Harry, who remained silent, his brow furrowed in deep thought.
"We'll go back to the common room first, and then I'll deal with this," Percy said firmly.
When they finally arrived at the Gryffindor lounge, they were greeted by Fred and George, who were standing with a box of colorful candies, chatting with some students.
The twins immediately hid the sweets behind their backs when they saw Percy.
"Oh, look, it's our fearless prefect, back with Harry and little Ron!" Fred grinned.
"How many points did you lose this time?" George asked with a mischievous smirk, causing several students in the lounge to glare at Harry and Ron with annoyance.
"Knock it off, you two," Percy snapped. "Did they sort out the troll situation?"
"Yep. Professor McGonagall came by and handled everything," George shrugged. "We were just wondering if the party's still on, but... well, looks like that might be canceled."
Percy nodded. "Good, at least that's sorted." He then turned to the twins, "You told me Dyroth had been looking for me to return some notes. I'll go get them from him now."
Using the excuse of retrieving the notes, Percy made his way toward the Slytherin common room.
On his way, he mulled over everything. Harry and Ron had been on good behavior lately—they wouldn't go to the third floor without reason. And Ron, as impulsive as he was, wouldn't risk their house points just to accuse Dyroth.
He needed to see for himself what was going on.
When Percy reached the Slytherin common room, he was surprised to see Dyroth and a few other prefects standing guard by the door.
"Percy? What are you doing here?" one of s, eyed him warily.
"I'm not here to make troubles" Percy said, brushing past him to address Dyroth directly. "Dyroth, I heard you've been trying to return my notes. Since we're both here, I figured I would come get them."
Dyroth saw through Percy's intentions but smiled politely. "Sure, wait here. I'll fetch them from my dormitory."
The Slytherin prefect scoffed at Percy's excuse. "Coming all the way over for some notes? You Gryffindors are such sticklers."
Percy ignored him, shifting uncomfortably. He realized his behavior had been a bit suspicious, but he couldn't back out now.
As Dyroth left to get the notes, Percy glanced at the prefects standing guard. "Dyroth came up with the idea for you all to stand watch?"
"Of course! It was Dyroth's plan to have the prefects guard the entrance in case of any trouble," one of them said proudly.
Percy's suspicion began to ease. If Dyroth had been here, guarding the Slytherin common room, there was no way he could have snuck up to the third floor. The timeline didn't add up.
Feeling a wave of guilt, Percy realized he had been wrong to doubt Dyroth. The last time Ron had caused trouble, Dyroth hadn't made a fuss about it and had even been kind enough to comfort him. Yet here Percy was, suspecting him without any real proof.
As he waited for Dyroth to return, Percy silently vowed that the next time Fred and George made troubles to Ron, he would turn a blind eye.
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