Chapter 712: Voldemort's Wrath
Chapter 712: Voldemort's Wrath
Due to returning very late and drinking with Bill, Charlie, and the others, Kyle slept until noon the next day.
"Oh, dear, how are you feeling?" Mrs. Weasley nudged Kyle towards the dining table. "I was going to wake you up for breakfast, but your father told me you had only fallen asleep a couple of hours ago."
"I did sleep rather late yesterday," Kyle said. "Where's Mr. Weasley?"
"He's already left for work."
"So early in the morning?"
"He has a lot on his plate," Mrs. Weasley smiled. "Don't worry; he often pulls all-nighters. A quick Wakening Potion, and he's good to go."
Lunch was a grand affair, almost on par with the previous birthday banquet.
"Mom worried all night," Ginny whispered. "This is to celebrate your safe return."
"Mr. Weasley really didn't need to get involved with last night's business," Kyle said. "But I didn't expect him to insist on staying and bringing Bill and Charlie along."
"That's just Dad's character," Ginny said calmly. "It would've been strange if he hadn't."
"Yeah, you're right," Kyle rubbed his forehead. "But with almost everyone's name pointing to 'mortal danger,' no wonder Mrs. Weasley was concerned."
He knew the Weasley family had a magical clock, which didn't show the time but rather what each family member was up to. For instance, it might say "making tea," "feeding chickens," or "you're late."
Or it might indicate a location, like "home" or "school."
It kept real-time tabs on the status of each family member, and it was one of the Weasley family's most treasured possessions.
"No, it's not related to that," Ginny spread her hands. "You may not know, but ever since the Death Eaters' first attack on the Ministry, all the clock hands have been stuck in place. In other words, it's temporarily useless... unless the Dark Lord falls again."
As they spoke, Sirius arrived. He handed Kreacher a bowl of beef stew and a few slices of toasted bread to deliver to Harry, then everyone began their lunch.
...
In the following weeks, nothing particularly eventful happened. It was worth mentioning that the Aurors didn't extract any particularly useful information from the captured Death Eaters, but that didn't stop them from celebrating their victory.
The Prophet finally stopped reporting disappearances and deaths daily, which was a relief for everyone.
However, in a certain mansion, the atmosphere was dreadfully somber.
A long table was filled with people, all of them keeping their heads down, not daring to breathe a word.
And this was because a man was walking slowly behind them, wand in hand.
"Someone here has betrayed us and the great Dark Lord," Voldemort's voice was calm, his tone unreadable, and his cold eyes swept over everyone present.
Whoever met his gaze would break out in a cold sweat and lower their head even further, as if wishing to burrow into the ground.
Unfortunately, there were no cracks in the floor to escape through, and Voldemort would not permit anyone to be absent.
"Lift your head... Lucius." Voldemort arrived at Draco's side and tilted his chin up with his wand.
If anyone were likely to have sold them out, it would be Lucius, whom he had just punished.
"M-master..." Lucius Malfoy's face turned ashen, and his whole body trembled uncontrollably.
Voldemort stared into his eyes, which were wide with terror.
"Why are you nervous, Lucius?" He pressed his wand against Lucius' forehead.
"M-master... I... I didn't... betray..." Lucius Malfoy managed to say.
But if he could have spoken more coherently, he might have been more convincing.
"Of course, I know you don't have the guts, Lucius," Voldemort retracted his wand.
In those brief seconds, Malfoy nearly collapsed, but before he could catch his breath, a flash of green light streaked past.
"Avada Kedavra!"
Voldemort casually flicked his wrist, as if brushing away a speck of dust.
Macnair, who had been sitting across from Lucius Malfoy, fell to the ground without a sound.
Only then did Voldemort speak again, his voice calm and detached. "Dolohov failed to carry out my orders, but he at least brought back news of the traitor. As for you, Macnair, I only saw cowardice."
The successive failures, coupled with the news of a traitor, had pushed Voldemort's patience to its limits, and someone had to bear the brunt of his wrath.
Voldemort had intended to find the traitor, but after looking around, he found no clues, and Legilimency assured him that everyone present was loyal.
This left him with no choice but to select another victim, someone who might be a suspect.
For instance, the two who had fled from the recent failure.
Unlike Antonin Dolohov, who had narrowly escaped death, Macnair had run at the first sign of the Aurors, doing nothing useful, which naturally made him the ideal candidate.
Voldemort waved his hand, and a three-headed giant snake slithered forward.
"Please give me another chance, Master..." Antonin Dolohov, who had narrowly escaped, fell to his knees, trembling uncontrollably.
"I swear... Master, I will bring Fosco to you," he managed to say.
"But you have failed." Voldemort didn't even glance at him, his eyes falling on the open copy of the Prophet spread out on the long table.
[The Arch-Nemesis of the Mystery Man, the Legendary and Brave Deputy Head, Dolores Umbridge]
"Master, I will kill her!" Bartemius Crouch Jr. quickly spoke up.
"Arch-nemesis?" Disdain flashed in Voldemort's eyes, and he flicked his finger, turning the page of the newspaper.
[Missing: Ollivander]
"You have two days..." Voldemort said coldly, "Find him, and I hope you won't disappoint me again."
"We obey your orders, Master!" Everyone by the long table knelt on the ground simultaneously.
...
At the same time, at Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place.
After more than half a month of torture, Harry finally graduated. He limped out of the basement, his heart filled with joy.
"This is essence of sweetgrass, this is Blood Replenishing Potion, and this is Bone-knitting Potion..."
Sirius stuffed bottle after bottle of potion into Harry's arms while grumbling, "This was too barbaric. Even if it's to learn Occlumency faster, there's no need to be so strict."
Kyle rolled his eyes at this.
In the past half month, Sirius hadn't visited the basement to check on Harry even once, nor had he made any attempt to stop it. How could he now complain about the treatment?
However, to maintain the harmony between godfather and godson, Kyle chose to remain silent and said nothing. Instead, he asked Kreacher to roast two Knarl hams as a reward for Crookshanks' hard work.
After downing several potions, Harry's condition improved significantly. Of course, he didn't drink certain potions like the Bone-knitting Potion.
"Harry? You're up and about at this hour, so you must have mastered Occlumency by now."
At that moment, Bill walked in from outside.
"Perfect timing. Here you go." He handed Harry a bulging money bag across the table. "I got this for you from your vault."
"Thanks," said Harry as he took 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 can make another trip tomorrow."
"The goblins have tightened security, making it difficult for ordinary people to withdraw money. It would probably take about five hours, but I still have some pull at Gringotts, so I can reduce that time to half an hour."
"Thanks, but I'm good," Kyle shook his head. "I still have quite a bit of money left, it's enough."
His money, along with all his valuables, was not kept in Gringotts, which was as secure as a sieve. Instead, he stored them in his trunk.
Some were hidden in Dobby's nest, some in Crookshanks' inner pouch, and recently, he had found two new hiding places.
One was in the cave where the snake monster lived, and the other was under the nest of the venomous leopard. Either of these places was safer than Gringotts.
Although Bill didn't know about this, he didn't seem to mind. When he learned that Kyle didn't need to withdraw money, he took out several envelopes.
They were from Hogwarts, containing the new book list.
The moment he opened the envelope, Harry instantly forgot about his painful experience in the basement.
He had been chosen as the Quidditch team captain.
"So now you'll have the same privileges as a prefect. You can use the prefects' bathroom and ride in the prefects' carriage," Hermione said happily.
Harry was excited, but not because of the prefect privileges.
He carefully examined the badge, wiping it with his clothes as if to remove non-existent dust, reluctant to put it down.
"I had one of those, too. It feels like it was just yesterday. I was so excited I didn't sleep a wink," Charlie said with a laugh. "Come on, Kyle, show us your badge."
"Yeah," Harry chimed in eagerly. "This time, it's our turn to face off. Gryffindor definitely won't lose again."
"Then you might be disappointed. I'm not the captain," Kyle said as he opened his envelope. Aside from the book list, there was nothing else inside.
"That's impossible!" Ron exclaimed. "Who else in Hufflepuff could be the Quidditch captain besides you?"
"Anyone. Their passion and skills are no less than mine," Kyle replied.
"Wait a minute." 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.
Last year, Kyle had already been the Head Boy, but Cedric was also there, so the corresponding badge hadn't been issued.
Now that Cedric had graduated, Kyle was undoubtedly the Head Boy. There was no question about it.
But why was there no badge?
"The school must have made a mistake," Hermione said. "Kyle, write to Professor Dumbledore as soon as possible before the term starts.
He enjoyed Quidditch, but he preferred playing with his friends. Now that Cedric, Fred, and George had graduated, the fun of Quidditch had diminished significantly.
More importantly, he had witnessed Cedric staying up late for several consecutive nights before a match to strategize. Kyle was well aware that he simply couldn't dedicate himself to that extent.
So, for the sake of the team and his own peace of mind, it was better to pass the captain's position to someone else.
Kyle guessed that the new captain would either be Will or Grace, with the latter being more likely. That young lady was just like Cedric, a die-hard Quidditch fan, and her passion for the sport even surpassed her focus on her grades.
To put it bluntly, if the N.E.W.T.S. exam and a Quidditch match were held on the same day, she would undoubtedly choose the match without hesitation.
As for the Boy Prefect, that was even less of a concern... Kyle had even delegated the duties of the Boy Prefect to Cedric in the past.
Perhaps Dumbledore was also aware of this, which was why he hadn't sent the badge.
Kyle not becoming the Boy Prefect or the Quidditch Captain became a topic of discussion at Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, and the others debated it for an entire day.
However, Fred and George, upon learning of this, didn't react with the same surprise as the rest.
"Kyle practically runs the Ministry now, why would he care about being a Boy Prefect?" Fred said nonchalantly.
"Look at Percy," George added. "He was a Head Boy, but now he has to listen to Kyle."
Despite Percy's apology and the forgiveness of Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Fred and George still hadn't softened their stance towards their older brother. Whenever they ran into him at the Ministry, they would pretend not to see him, treating him like a stranger.
In their words, "Given the stupid things Percy has done, not beating him up is already the utmost restraint on our part."
But regardless, once Fred and George voiced their opinion, the others soon came around to their way of thinking.
Indeed, as the youngest Senior Assistant to the Minister, Kyle had already made and participated in numerous significant decisions. Perhaps he didn't need the title of Boy Prefect after all.
Thus, the topic of conversation soon shifted to the new book list and the subjects Harry and the others would be taking.
"Which subjects are you planning to take, Harry?" Ron asked, looking at his own transcript. "My grades in Defense Against the Dark Arts and Charms are pretty good, and my Transfiguration grade barely meets Professor McGonagall's requirement."
"Those are mandatory," Hermione said beside him. "You're not thinking of dropping Transfiguration, are you?"
"Of course not, even though Professor McGonagall is extremely strict..." Ron said, turning his head, "Hermione, why are you taking Potions?"
"That's a given; Potions are just as important as Transfiguration!" Hermione said without looking up from her book. "In fact, I intend to take every subject I possibly can."
"I don't agree," Ron muttered. "I definitely won't be taking Snape's class again."
"Me neither," Harry agreed, nodding.
Ever since his first year, he had fantasized about the day he would no longer have to deal with Snape and the dreary dungeon classroom. Now that his wish had come true, he certainly wasn't going to change his mind.
"I advise you to reconsider," said Kyle, who was chatting with Charlie. He glanced at them, "This year's Potions class should be very different. Even if you decide not to take it now, you'll probably end up taking it later."
"Is Snape going to force us to take his class?" Ron asked incredulously, raising his voice.
"It's not about Snape, there's another reason," Kyle said, "But trust me, it's definitely worth it."
"Then what is it? Do you know something we don't?" Ron pressed.
But this time, Kyle didn't answer him, calmly eating his roasted potatoes instead.
"Come on..." Ron's face fell, and he glared at Kyle, "You guys who work at the Ministry, do you all enjoy leaving people hanging like that?"
"You're only realizing this now?" Fred couldn't help but laugh.
"It's an old tradition in the wizarding world," George said, raising an eyebrow.
Ron became even more annoyed, but no one sided with him, not even Mr. Weasley. In fact, the more annoyed Ron became, the more cheerful the others seemed.
Harry, after hesitating for a while, ultimately chose to trust Kyle and added a stroke to the back of 'Advanced Potion Making' on his book list.
"Wait, Harry, you're taking Potions too?" Ron exclaimed in shock. He hadn't expected even his strongest ally to defect.
"It's just one more book," Harry shrugged. "Anyway, my Potions grade isn't high enough to meet Snape's requirements, so he definitely won't let me take his class."
"But isn't that a waste of galleons?" Ron was even more perplexed.
But seeing that Harry had made up his mind, he sighed and also made a stroke on his own book list, muttering under his breath, "I must be crazy. I wonder if I can still sell the books at full price if I don't open them..."
(End of Chapter)
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