Chapter 712: Voldemort's Fury
Chapter 712: Voldemort's Fury
Kyle had slept through till midday the next day, having returned late and indulged in a few drinks with Bill and Charlie.
"Oh, dear, how are you feeling?" Mrs. Weasley nudged Kyle towards the dining table, "I was going to wake you for breakfast, but your father told me you'd only just fallen asleep a couple of hours ago."
"I did sleep in late yesterday," Kyle admitted, "Where's Mr. Weasley?"
"He's already at the Ministry."
"So early in the morning?"
"There's a mountain of work waiting for him," Mrs. Weasley smiled, "Don't worry, he often pulls all-nighters. A quick pick-me-up potion will do the trick."
Lunch was a grand affair, almost as extravagant as the previous birthday feast.
"Mom was worried sick all night," Ginny whispered, "This is to celebrate your safe return."
"Mr. Weasley didn't need to get involved in last night's matter," Kyle said, "But I didn't expect him to insist on staying, and he even brought Bill and Charlie along."
"That's just Dad's nature," Ginny said calmly, "It would be stranger if he didn't."
"You're right," Kyle rubbed his forehead, "But with almost everyone's name pointing to 'Mortal Danger', it's no wonder Mrs. Weasley was concerned."
Kyle knew that the Weasley family had a magical clock that didn't show time but instead displayed what each family member was doing, like 'Brewing Tea', 'Feeding Chickens', or 'You're Late'.
Or locations like 'Home' or 'School'.
It was a real-time reflection of each family member's status, a true treasure of the Weasley family.
"No, it's not related to that," Ginny waved her hand, "You might not know, but ever since the Death Eaters' first attack on the Ministry, the clock's hands haven't moved. In other words, it's temporarily useless... unless the Dark Lord falls again."
As they spoke, Sirius arrived, handing a bowl of stew and some toasted bread to Kreacher to deliver to Harry. After that, everyone began their lunch.
...
In the following weeks, nothing particularly noteworthy happened. Notably, the Aurors didn't extract any useful information from the captured Death Eaters, but that didn't stop them from celebrating their victory.
The Daily Prophet finally stopped reporting daily disappearances and deaths, giving everyone a much-needed respite.
However, in a certain mansion, the atmosphere was dreadfully somber.
A long table was surrounded by people, all with their heads bowed, afraid to even breathe.
And behind them, a single figure strolled slowly, wand in hand.
"Someone here has betrayed us, and the great Dark Lord," Voldemort's voice was devoid of emotion, his cold gaze sweeping over each person.
Whoever met his eyes would break out in a cold sweat, their heads bowing even lower, as if wishing to disappear into the ground.
Unfortunately, there were no cracks in the floor, and Voldemort wouldn't allow anyone to be absent.
"Lift your head... Lucius." Voldemort approached Malfoy and lifted his chin with his wand.
If anyone had betrayed them, it would be Lucius, whom he had just punished.
"My Lord... Master..." Lucius Malfoy's face turned pale, and his whole body trembled uncontrollably.
Voldemort stared into his terrified eyes.
"Why are you nervous, Lucius?" He pressed the wand against Lucius' forehead.
"Master... I... didn't... betray..." Lucius Malfoy managed to say with all his might.
But if he could have spoken more coherently, he might have been more convincing.
"I know you don't dare, Lucius, I know you don't have the guts."
Voldemort retracted his wand.
In just a few seconds, Malfoy was on the verge of collapse, but before he could catch his breath, a flash of green light passed before his eyes.
"Avada Kedavra."
Voldemort casually flicked his wrist, as if brushing away a speck of dust.
The Death Eater sitting opposite Lucius Malfoy, McNair, fell to the ground without a sound, lying motionless.
Only then did Voldemort speak, his voice calm, "Dolohov failed to carry out my orders, but he brought back news of the traitor. As for you, McNair, I only see your cowardice."
The consecutive failures, coupled with the news of a traitor, had pushed Voldemort's patience to its limit. Someone had to bear the brunt of his fury.
Voldemort had intended to find the traitor, but after scanning the room, he found no issues, and Legilimency revealed that everyone was loyal.
With no other choice, Voldemort couldn't kill every suspect, so he had to choose someone else.
Like the two who had escaped from the failed mission.
Unlike Antonin Dolohov, who had narrowly escaped death, McNair had fled the moment the Aurors appeared, serving no purpose and thus becoming the ideal candidate.
Voldemort waved his hand, and a three-headed giant snake slithered forward. But no one dared to turn their heads, not even to glance.
"I believe in your loyalty... but you have disappointed me too many times." Voldemort continued in a cold, emotionless tone.
"Please give me another chance, Master..." Antonin Dolohov, who had narrowly escaped death, fell to his knees with a thud, trembling as he knelt on the ground.
"I swear... Master, I will bring Forskoe to you."
"But you have already failed." Voldemort didn't even glance at him; his gaze fell on a copy of the Daily Prophet spread out on the long table.
【The Dark Lord's Arch-Nemesis, the Most Courageous Deputy Minister, Dolores Umbridge】
"Master, I'll kill her!" Barty Crouch Jr. quickly interjected.
A flash of disdain crossed Voldemort's eyes, and with a flick of his finger, the newspaper turned to the second page.
【Missing Ollivander.】
"You have two days..." Voldemort said coldly, "...to find him. I hope you won't let me down again."
"We obey your command, Master!" Everyone by the long table knelt simultaneously.
...
Meanwhile, at Number 12 Grimmauld Place.
After enduring over half a month of torture, Harry finally graduated, limping and overjoyed as he left the basement.
"This is White Fresh Fragrance, this is Blood Regeneration Potion, this is Skele-Gro..."
Sirius stuffed bottles of potions into Harry's arms, complaining, "This is too harsh, even if it's to learn Mind Closure Spell faster."
Kyle smirked beside him.
In the past half month, Sirius hadn't once visited Harry in the basement, nor had he taken any action to stop it. How could he say such a thing?
However, to maintain the relationship between godfather and godson, Kyle chose to remain silent and said nothing. He simply had Kreacher roast two legs of wart hog as a reward for the Feline Beast.
After drinking a few potions, Harry's condition improved significantly, though he didn't consume potions like Skele-Gro.
"Harry? Appearing in the dining room at this time, it seems you've mastered Mind Closure Spell."
Just then, Bill walked in from outside.
"Perfect timing, this is for you." He handed Harry a full money bag across the table. "I got it from your vault."
"Thank you," Harry said, taking the bag.
"Don't mention it." Bill turned and said, "Mom only gave me the key to Harry's vault. Kyle, if you need to withdraw money, I'll go again tomorrow."
"Currently, the fairies have tightened security, making it difficult for ordinary people to withdraw money. It would take about five hours, but I still have some privileges at Gringotts, which can shorten the time to half an hour."
"Thanks." Kyle shook his head. "But I still have plenty of money, it's enough."
His money, along with all his valuables, was not kept in the leaky Gringotts, but in his own trunk.
Part of it was in Norbert's nest, and part was in Snuffles' inner pouch. Recently, he had also found two new locations to store his money.
The snake-infested cave and the bottom of the Manticore's den were both safer than Gringotts.
Although Bill was unaware of this, he didn't mind. Learning that Kyle didn't need to withdraw money, he took out several envelopes.
They were from Hogwarts, containing their new book list.
The moment Harry opened the envelope, he instantly forgot about the painful experience in the basement.
He had been chosen as the Quidditch team captain.
"Now your status is the same as a Prefect," Hermione said excitedly, "You can ride in the Prefect's carriage and use our bathroom."
Harry was thrilled, but not because of the special Prefect treatment.
He carefully examined the badge, wiping it with his clothes even though there was no dust on it, reluctant to put it down.
"I had one too, and it felt like it was just yesterday. I was as excited as Harry and couldn't sleep the whole night." Charlie chuckled, "Kyle, show us your badge, let's have a look."
"Yeah," Harry quickly added, "This time, it's a competition between us. Gryffindor won't lose again."
"Then you might be disappointed, I'm not the captain." Kyle opened his envelope, and apart from the book list, there was nothing else inside.
"How is that possible!" Ron blurted out, "Apart from you, who else in Hufflepuff could be the Quidditch team captain?"
"Anyone could." Kyle said, "Their enthusiasm and skills are no less than mine."
"Wait." Hermione suddenly realized something, "Why didn't you even get the badge for the Head Boy?"
This was even more surprising than Kyle not being the Quidditch captain.
Because last year, Kyle was the Head Boy, but Cedric was still there, so the corresponding badge wasn't issued.
But now Cedric had graduated, and the Head Boy should definitely be Kyle.
But why was there no badge?
"The school must have made a mistake." Hermione said, "Kyle, you should write to Professor Dumbledore right away, before the term starts."
"No, Hermione, this is fine."
Kyle was initially surprised, but he soon accepted it and even felt a little pleased.
He enjoyed Quidditch, but he preferred playing with friends. Now that Cedric, Fred, and George had graduated, the fun of Quidditch had diminished significantly.
More importantly, Kyle had witnessed Cedric's dedication, staying up for several nights in a row to strategize before a match. Kyle knew he couldn't match that level of commitment.
Therefore, for the team's sake and his own well-being, it was better to pass on the captaincy to someone else.
Kyle guessed the new captain would be either Will or Grace, with the latter being more likely. That girl was as passionate about Quidditch as Cedric, and her enthusiasm for the sport surpassed her own academic performance.
To put it bluntly, if the N.E.W.T. exams and Quidditch matches were held on the same day, she would undoubtedly choose the latter without hesitation.
As for the male student council president, it was even less of a concern... Kyle had even delegated Prefect duties to Cedric.
Dumbledore must have been aware of this, which was probably why he didn't send the badge.
Kyle's non-appointment as the male student council president and Quidditch captain became a topic of discussion at Number 12 Grimmauld Place, occupying everyone's attention for an entire day.
However, when Fred and George learned about it, they weren't as surprised as the others.
"Kyle can walk sideways in the Ministry of Magic; why would he care about being a male student council president?" Fred said nonchalantly.
"Look at Percy," George added. "He's the student council president, but he still has to listen to Kyle."
Despite Percy's apology and the Weasleys' forgiveness, Fred and George never gave him a friendly look. Whenever they encountered him at the Ministry, they would pretend not to see him, treating him like a stranger.
In their words, "Given Percy's previous foolish actions, not punching him was already their greatest restraint."
Nevertheless, hearing Fred and George's comments, the others realized the truth.
Indeed, as the youngest senior assistant minister in the Ministry, Kyle had already made and participated in numerous significant decisions. It seemed he genuinely didn't need to be a male student council president.
Soon, the conversation shifted to the new book list and the courses Harry and the others had chosen.
"Which classes are you taking, Harry?" Ron asked, looking at his grades. "My Defense Against the Dark Arts and Spellcasting grades are pretty good, and Transfiguration just meets Professor McGonagall's requirements."
"Those are mandatory," Hermione said from the side. "You're not thinking of dropping Transfiguration, are you?"
"Of course not, even though Professor McGonagall is really strict..." Ron turned to look at her, "Hermione, why did you choose Potions?"
"Of course! Potions are as important as Transfiguration!" Hermione replied without looking up. "In fact, I won't give up any class I can take."
"I don't agree." Ron muttered under his breath. "Anyway, I definitely won't be taking Snape's class."
"Me neither," Harry agreed, nodding.
From his first year, he had fantasized about the day he could escape Snape and the gloomy basement classroom. Now that his wish had come true, he wasn't going to make things difficult for himself.
"I advise you to reconsider," said Kyle, glancing up from his conversation with Charlie. "This year's Potions class will have significant changes. Even if you decide not to take it now, you'll end up taking it later."
"Can Snape force us to take his class?" Ron asked, raising his voice in disbelief.
"It's not Snape; it's for another reason," Kyle said. "But trust me, it won't be a mistake."
"What is it? Do you know some inside information?" Ron pressed.
This time, Kyle didn't answer him; he calmly continued eating the roasted potatoes in front of him.
"I say..." Ron's face fell, and he glared at Kyle. "You guys who work in the Ministry, do you all like to leave things unsaid?"
"Did you just realize that now?" Fred couldn't help but laugh.
"It's an old tradition in the Ministry," George raised an eyebrow.
Ron became even more upset, but no one spoke up for him, not even Mr. Weasley. The more upset Ron became, the happier the others at the table seemed to be.
Harry, sitting next to them, hesitated for a moment before deciding to trust Kyle. He drew a line behind 'Advanced Potion Making' on his book list.
"Wait, Harry, you're also taking Potions?" Ron exclaimed in shock. He hadn't expected even his most solid ally to defect.
"It's just an extra book," Harry shrugged. "Anyway, my Potions grade doesn't meet Snape's requirements, so he won't let me take the class."
"Isn't this a waste of Galleons?" Ron was even more perplexed.
But seeing that Harry had made up his mind, he sighed and muttered, "I must be crazy to think I can sell an unused book at the original price..."
(End of Chapter)
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