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Chapter 205: Riddle Manor
Chapter 205: Riddle Manor
Little Hangleton, Riddle Manor.
The manor was named after its former owners, the Riddle family.
However, the entire family met a mysterious and sudden death about half a century ago. Their deaths were peculiar, as if they had been frightened to death.
The case remained unsolved, with the police unable to identify the killer, and it was eventually dropped.
Now, in the long-abandoned Riddle Manor, Peter stood trembling, respectfully by the side.
"Where is Nagini?" a sharp, peculiar voice echoed.
Peter still stuttered as he spoke.
"I, I don't know, Master. She must have gone off to hunt on her own."
"Make sure to feed her some milk when you see her. We must feed her before we go to sleep; we can't let her go hungry."
Peter asked, his voice trembling.
"H, how long do we have to stay here, Master?"
"At least a week", the cold voice replied. "At least until the Quidditch World Cup is over. We can't make any moves until then. This place is relatively comfortable, after all."
"Master, why do we have to wait until the Quidditch World Cup is over?"
"During the World Cup, too many people come here. The Aurors will be on high alert, and they can't afford any major disturbances during the matches. It would make the British Ministry of Magic a laughingstock."
The voice paused for a moment, then continued in a low, ominous tone.
"However, perhaps this might also be an opportunity."
Peter swallowed hard, clearly nervous, but there were things he felt he had to say.
"M, Master, I can see that your ambitions have not changed."
"Of course not, Wormtail", the icy voice replied, with a hint of menace.
"But, but why me, Master?" Peter hunched his shoulders, his face pale with fear. "I am cowardly and useless, and my skills are not exceptional."
There was a moment of silence. Peter trembled, his face panicking as he hurriedly added.
"I am still loyal to you, Master. I would willingly give my life for you, but I fear I might be useless and ruin your plans."
"So you are suggesting that I find a replacement for you? I suspect that perhaps this servitude has become tiresome for you, hasn't it, Wormtail? Are you suggesting we abandon the original plan just so you can leave me?"
"Master! I, I have no intention of leaving you, not at all—"
"Don't lie to me!" the voice hissed. "I know everything, Wormtail! You have been regretting coming back to me. You find me repulsive. I can see you flinch every time you look at me, and I feel you tremble when you touch me."
"It's not like that! I am loyal to you, Master—"
"Loyal? You are just a coward. If you had anywhere else to go, you wouldn't be here. I need you to feed me every few hours. How could I survive without you? Who would feed Nagini?"
"But you seem much stronger, Master—"
"Ah, yes, a strong Wizard who needs to be fed by someone else. Is that what you think, Wormtail?"
"I hate lies, but you are necessary." The cold voice said softly. "You are the first servant to find me. Although you are neither particularly intelligent nor particularly loyal, your significance is important. You are my best choice, just as Harry Potter is my other optimal choice."
Peter’s face was deathly pale, a shade that was far from normal, not the kind of paleness that fear or anxiety could produce.
He opened his mouth as if to say something more, but the fear of something else made him close it again, too afraid to voice what was on his mind.
Meanwhile, over two hundred kilometers away, at Privet Drive in Little Whinging, Harry suddenly sat up in bed.
He was breathing heavily, his hand pressed against his burning scar, and his mind involuntarily replayed the dream he had just had.
At that moment, a transparent figure floated out, looking at him with concern.
“Is that scar burning again?” Lily asked.
Harry looked at his mother, who was by his side, and the tension and inexplicable fear in his heart eased considerably.
“I had a strange dream, Mum.”
Lily gently sat down at the edge of his bed, reaching out with her transparent hand. Though she couldn’t touch Harry, she still stroked his hair softly.
“Was it a nightmare?”
Harry stared straight at the ceiling and spoke.
“I dreamed about an old house, where Peter was kneeling before someone. They seemed to be planning something.”
Lily’s hand trembled noticeably.
“Someone?”
Harry uttered the name that was taboo in the Wizarding World.
“Voldemort. I didn’t see him, but I recognized his voice.”
Lily’s expression grew serious.
She knew better than Harry that this was no small matter.
“This is different, Harry. You can’t keep this to yourself. You need to tell someone you trust, like Dumbledore.”
But Harry shook his head.
“I don’t know where Professor Dumbledore is, Mum. And how would I write to him? Should I tell him my scar is burning again in a letter?”
“What about Professor Forrest? He studied the magic behind your scar. He would know something.”
Lily’s words reminded Harry, and he sat up excitedly.
“Right, Professor Forrest. He lives on Magnolia Crescent, not far from here. It’s been almost a month since the holidays started, and I haven’t visited him yet!”
Having Lily by his side not only provided the comfort of a mother but also gave him the adult perspective he needed at times.
Harry lay back down on the bed, but he was wide awake, staying up until dawn.
Lily didn’t stay out with him the whole time. Harry remembered Sherlock’s warning that Lily could only be out for an hour each day.
In the early morning, as Aunt Petunia was busy in the kitchen preparing breakfast and Dudley was pounding on the bathroom door, moaning in pain and urging Uncle Vernon to hurry, Harry slipped out of the Dursleys’ house.
The morning air was refreshing, and he jogged past Mrs. Figg, who was out for a walk, greeting her.
Mrs. Figg, the Dursleys’ neighbor and the only one willing to look after Harry when they were out, squinted as she watched Harry run away. She turned and muttered to herself.
“If he’s going to find him, then I don’t need to follow.”
(End of Chapter)
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