https://novelcool.info/chapter/Chapter-1114-Old-Man-Severus-is-Up-to-Something/12527965/
Chapter 1113: The Dark Mark
Chapter 1113: The Dark Mark
In a dilapidated shack on the edge of an island off the northern coast of the Scandinavian Peninsula, where cold seawater crashed against the rocks, Igor Karkaroff pored over a crinkled copy of the Daily Prophet by the light of the lone candle in the room. The newspaper displayed the remains of the collapsed Brockdale Bridge.
Ever since the Dark Mark on his left arm had become more pronounced last year, Karkaroff had known that Lord Voldemort had returned.
This terrible news had kept him in a constant state of fear throughout the past year. He feared being hunted down by Death Eaters and lived in dread of the Dark Lord appearing outside his door at any moment.
Should he flee Europe and seek refuge elsewhere?
Someone had once slipped him a note, advising him to escape to America and use the Fidelius Charm to hide from the Death Eaters and the Dark Lord.
However, Karkaroff was worried that he would die on his way to America. He knew that Lord Voldemort had the means to track him down, whether through the Dark Mark or other methods. Betrayers of the Dark Lord rarely survived for more than a month.
So, he abandoned the idea of leaving Europe and instead tried to protect himself with the Fidelius Charm.
Karkaroff had immediately sought out his "old friends" and, with all his wealth, had bound them with an Unbreakable Vow.
With their help, he had hidden himself away.
This method had proven effective, and Karkaroff had lived in peace for a year.
However, not long ago, Karkaroff had discovered that his dusty Sneakoscope was sounding an alarm—an undoubtedly ill omen, as it was located in a Muggle village where wizards were usually absent, and the device should not have reacted at all.
Perhaps the Secret-Keeper had betrayed him, even though Karkaroff had paid a significant portion of his wealth and bound them with an Unbreakable Vow.
Regardless, the Secret-Keeper was most likely dead, and the Dark Lord was closing in.
In any case, Karkaroff had fled in a hurry, leaving the house protected by the Fidelius Charm and moving into this shack, which reeked of seaweed. It was a temporary safe house he had prepared for himself—a remote island off the northern coast of the Scandinavian Peninsula. Karkaroff planned to stay there for a few more days before sneaking back to Durmstrang when the school was on holiday, stealing a broomstick, and flying directly to North America. Europe was no longer safe.
Perhaps he shouldn't have stayed in the first place.
The rain outside began to pour, growing heavier and wilder, and the howling wind snuffed out the candle in the room. Karkaroff's mood mirrored the rising smoke from the extinguished wick. He clutched his burning left arm, his anxiety spreading like the night Voldemort had returned.
Karkaroff grabbed his wand, his intuition telling him that this place was no longer safe and that he should leave immediately. The sense of unease intensified.
He wanted to run, but where could he go?
The large Sneakoscope in the room suddenly lit up and began to spin, emitting an ear-piercing shriek that amplified Karkaroff's anxiety.
This device could detect movements within a one-mile radius, and since this was an island, there should have been nothing but the sea in that range. Yet, the Sneakoscope was sounding an alarm, indicating that danger was imminent.
Just as Karkaroff prepared to Disapparate and flee, the shack's door was flung open, and a curse flew at him, halting his attempted escape.
It was over! Karkaroff's mind went blank.
Why had he hesitated? Why hadn't he fled at the first moment?
When he saw Augustus Rookwood, who had been sent to Azkaban because of his betrayal, Karkaroff's face turned ashen.
The Sneakoscope in the room continued to emit a raucous noise, like Karkaroff's final scream.
A flash of red light cut through the darkness, and the cursed Sneakoscope exploded, restoring silence to the surroundings.
"Karkaroff, where do you think you're going?"
A raspy voice, akin to that of a demon, sounded from outside, and Karkaroff struggled to lift his head, meeting a pair of terrifying eyes. He opened his mouth to speak but heard a voice in his ear.
"Cruciatus Curse."
Ah! A piercing scream tore through the rain and echoed across the dark island.
"Master."
Karkaroff slumped to the ground, his eyes wide with terror. "I didn't mean to betray you, but they used Veritaserum on me... I had no choice..."
"Lie!" Lord Voldemort's scarlet eyes stared coldly at Karkaroff. "A despicable betrayal. You should know the consequences of betraying the Dark Lord!"
"Master, I didn't mean to betray you," Karkaroff moaned in pain. "Severus Snape, Severus Snape is the real traitor... Ah..."
"Cruciatus Curse."
Karkaroff's agonizing screams carried far and wide, and a mixture of tears and mucus poured from his nose and mouth.
The surrounding Death Eaters wore pleased smiles, their hatred for the traitor Karkaroff evident, especially Augustus Rookwood, who had spent over a decade in Azkaban due to Karkaroff's betrayal.
None among them loathed Karkaroff more than Rookwood.
"Master, Severus Snape is the real traitor," Karkaroff sobbed, reaching out to grasp Voldemort's robe. "He has completely defected to Dumbledore's side."
"Severus Snape?" Voldemort repeated softly.
"Yes, Snape," Karkaroff nodded frantically.
"Well, well," Voldemort said, spreading his arms wide and revealing a terrifying smile, "it seems our traitor intends to continue trading others' lives for his own."
The surrounding Death Eaters all laughed callously.
"Severus is my spy."
Lord Voldemort's scarlet eyes turned hollow and indifferent as he pointed his wand at Karkaroff once more.
He continued to torture Karkaroff with the Cruciatus Curse until the man could no longer scream, and then he raised his wand and ended Karkaroff's life with the Killing Curse, right in front of the Death Eaters.
Lord Voldemort used Karkaroff as an example to remind the other Death Eaters of the price of betrayal.
As for Snape, Voldemort had never fully trusted him from the start, even though he had provided valuable intelligence.
No, it would be more accurate to say that Lord Voldemort had never trusted anyone; he only trusted himself.
A Dark Mark rose into the air above the shack.
Lord Voldemort and his Death Eaters departed from the island, knowing that the Nordic wizards would soon trace them there, and a conflict was not in their best interests, at least not yet.
Meanwhile, far away on Privet Drive, number four, Harry Potter suddenly opened his eyes, his hands pressing tightly against his face as he sat up in bed.
Harry closed his eyes, recalling the scene he had witnessed in his dream. Lord Voldemort had seemingly murdered someone else, though the green light obscured the victim's identity.
"This thing still works," Harry muttered as he gently touched his scar, referring to the connection between himself and the Dark Lord. He planned to contact Sirius through the two-way mirror later to discuss this matter.
Speaking of Sirius, Harry glanced at the magazine on the table. Ever since Lord Voldemort's resurrection, Sirius' "Defense Bulletin" had gained traction and was well-received by the wizarding community.
Of course, there was also Albert's "Self-Defense Guide," which was said to be sold out and available for only two galleons.
Harry's gaze fell on the newspaper beneath the table lamp, the top headline boldly proclaiming: "Harry Potter: Star of Salvation?"
The Ministry certainly had no shortage of shameless individuals.
The Prophet was no better.
They seemed to have forgotten, but Harry hadn't, that it was the Ministry and the Prophet who had constantly ridiculed and defamed him.
What a load of rubbish about being a star of salvation.
After his previous experiences, Harry had learned to take these things with a grain of salt.
The only thing that bothered him a little was the news that Fudge intended to resign early.
It was frustrating for Harry to see someone like Fudge get away unscathed after making such mistakes.
Why should Fudge, as the Minister of Magic, be exempt from punishment for his wrongdoings?
And how could the Prophet turn a blind eye to their previous slander and act as if nothing had happened?
"If you all think I'm your star of salvation..."
Harry glanced at the notebook in front of him, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. He picked up his quill and continued recording the memories of the past school year.
If they wanted to play this game, he wouldn't hold back! He would use his fame and the title of the "star of salvation" to expose their ugly truths.
After what they had done, they still wanted to use him for their gain.
How laughable.
What should he name it? Perhaps he should get Rita Skeeter, that woman who always captured everyone's attention, to write about it. Let her expose that the so-called star of salvation was actually a lunatic with a messed-up mind.
Unfortunately, Harry didn't dare to take that risk. He wasn't confident that Rita Skeeter wouldn't make a mess of things.
If only Albert could help... But unfortunately, Harry had no way of contacting him, and neither did Fred and George.
He had also heard that Albert was getting married soon.
Marriage... Harry thought of Qiu Zhang, but he knew he had no chance.
Qiu Zhang was with Cedric, as evident from their matching patronuses. Harry admitted that he had once been jealous of Cedric.
However, after his conversation with Dumbledore, his feelings for Qiu Zhang had faded somewhat.
He had given up.
There were more important things to focus on.
"Sirius?"
Harry called out to the two-way mirror, hoping to reach Sirius, but there was no response.
Sirius seemed to be busy lately, and Harry wasn't sure when he would be able to move in with him.
Ever since Sirius and the other members of the Order of the Phoenix had paid his uncle a visit and thoroughly intimidated him, the Dursleys had mostly treated Harry like he didn't exist.
Harry found his current living situation dull and longed to move to Number 12, Grimmauld Place, to live with Sirius and Lupin.
However, according to Dumbledore, he had to stay at the Dursleys' for a while longer to maintain the magical protection, at least until he turned seventeen.
In a little over half a month, he would be sixteen, and then it would be just a year until he came of age.
Despite approaching adulthood, Harry couldn't bring himself to feel happy about it. He still didn't know how to face Lord Voldemort, and he wondered what else Dumbledore had in store for him.
Harry lay back down, turning his head to look at the photo of his parents on the desk. They seemed to have gotten married right after graduating.
He hadn't received an invitation to Albert's wedding.
Hermione had received one, as had Hagrid, and many students at school. Even the professors were planning to attend as a group.
Although Hermione had explained in her letter why he hadn't been invited, Harry still felt a bit glum, not because he wanted to attend the wedding, but because he wanted to talk to Albert, who always gave him useful advice.
(End of Chapter)
Chapter end
Report
