Chapter 966: Death Eater Conference
Chapter 966: Death Eater Conference
Scotland, Voldemort's Lair.
An old house that had been abandoned for over a decade finally underwent some simple repairs recently, welcoming back its master.
At this moment, in the dimly lit hall, Voldemort sat in a dark velvet chair at the head of the table, gazing at the group of Death Eaters gathered before him. His gaze eventually landed on one of them, and he rasped, "Yaxley, do we have news of our old friend?"
"Master, Karkaroff did not dare return to Durmstrang Institute. That traitor is hiding, and by the time I found the last person who saw him, Karkaroff had already left. It will likely take more time to track him down."
The Death Eater named Yaxley trembled slightly after being addressed by Voldemort. He lowered his head and respectfully reported the recent news to the Dark Lord.
"Find Karkaroff. I will go and personally execute that traitor. No one can betray Voldemort and live," Voldemort said, his crimson eyes radiating cold murderous intent that caused all the Death Eaters present to shudder involuntarily.
This was a warning! They all knew that Karkaroff was doomed, no matter where he was hiding.
"Some of our loyal friends are still imprisoned in Azkaban," Voldemort said softly. "I believe they are eagerly awaiting their release from that damn prison, eager to rejoin our great cause."
"Master, do you plan to attack Azkaban and free those who are imprisoned..." Malfoy's words were cut off by Voldemort, who raised a pale hand to silence him.
Malfoy immediately fell silent.
"The Dementors must align with us, and persuading them will not be difficult." Voldemort surveyed his followers (it would be more appropriate to call them servants). "Who will go and convince the Dementors? Of course, not now. Before we regain our strength, we must remain hidden and avoid exposing ourselves."
"Moreover..." Voldemort's lipless mouth twisted into a bizarre smile, "as far as I know, Minister of Magic Fudge is causing trouble for Dumbledore, and this presents a good opportunity for us."
The Death Eaters kept their heads lowered, and only a few were willing to deal with the Dementors.
"Avery." Voldemort called out.
"Master." Avery, feeling Voldemort's gaze upon him, lowered his head even further and said, "I am willing to go and persuade the Dementors to join our great cause."
"Very well." Voldemort turned his gaze away from Avery and continued, "Macnair, I need you to go and convince those mindless giants to join our great cause."
"I am honored to serve you, Master," Macnair said, bowing slightly to Voldemort.
"I need someone to help me persuade the werewolves," Voldemort said contemptuously. "Even though those hairy beasts are unreliable, Voldemort can make them useful one last time."
"My master," Lucius volunteered. "I am willing to go and persuade the werewolves. Fenrir Greyback can unite the scattered werewolves and pledge his loyalty to you."
"Good." Voldemort looked towards the silent, dark figure standing below, "Severus, I hope you can bring me some good news."
"Master, the Order of the Phoenix has held two gatherings so far. They have set up their headquarters at Sirius Black's house. Due to the Fidelius Charm cast by Dumbledore, I cannot reveal more details," Snape said calmly, looking directly at Voldemort. "The second meeting was held yesterday. Dumbledore instructed the members of the Order to strengthen the security around Harry Potter. He wants them to keep a close eye on Potter to prevent any accidents."
"Anything else?" Voldemort asked, his scarlet eyes fixed on Snape, his gaze sharp enough to make the people beside him look away.
"Dumbledore is busy dealing with the Ministry of Magic, but he doesn't seem to care much about those honorary titles," Snape continued after a moment's thought. "There's also this—Sirius Black somehow obtained a prophecy."
"Prophecy?"
The Death Eaters began to whisper among themselves.
"Yes, Black claims that the prophecy came from a master seer." Snape paused, seeing that Voldemort didn't interrupt, he continued, "The prophecy states that a mass breakout will soon occur at Azkaban. Minister of Magic Fudge will be removed from his position next year, and his successor will die at the hands of the Dark Lord. At that time, the entire British wizarding world will enter its darkest hour, with the Ministry of Magic and Hogwarts falling under the control of the Dark Lord. Muggle-born wizards will be persecuted, and the savior, Harry, will become a wanted criminal of the Ministry."
"Do you know who made this prophecy?" Voldemort asked, his tone cautious. He had been fooled by a prophecy once before, and he was not going to let it happen again, especially not by the man standing before him.
"I don't know, Black didn't say. But it seems the seer refused Dumbledore's invitation, believing that the Order of the Phoenix is not secure enough and may have spies or traitors within its ranks," Snape replied, suppressing a smile.
"This prophecy is quite accurate."
Voldemort's lipless mouth twisted into a strange smile.
The Death Eaters around the table also smiled, for it was true—the spy hiding within the Order of the Phoenix was none other than the man standing before them.
"It seems Dumbledore has found a skilled seer. I need you to find out their identity," Voldemort said, not at all surprised. He had been outmaneuvered by Nicolas Flamel in the past, and seers were usually sensitive to dangers directed at them.
"Barty once reminded me that there is a Muggle-born at Hogwarts who is skilled in divination."
As the conversation turned to divination, Voldemort seemed to recall something. He fixed his gaze on Snape and asked, "I remember you reported to me the name of the Muggle-born who defeated Barty. What was it?"
"Albert Anderson, Master," Snape replied.
"You didn't mention this before?" Voldemort narrowed his eyes.
"There are indeed rumors at Hogwarts that Albert Anderson is a seer, but the possibility of him being a Muggle-born wizard is low," Snape explained.
"What do you think?" Voldemort asked.
"I haven't witnessed his prophecies, but I know he is intelligent," Snape admitted.
Snape noticed Voldemort's gaze on him and continued, "While he has successfully predicted some events, I believe he may have learned some deception techniques from Sybill Trelawney. With his clever mind, he can easily convince others to believe in his predictions."
"Take his recent prophecy as an example. That Muggle-born claimed that he sensed danger before the third task," Snape lowered his voice, "but... in truth, many people realized that there was something amiss with Potter being chosen as a champion. They believed someone was plotting against Potter, and such schemes are never harmless."
"That Muggle-born turned this into a prophecy. To make his words seem more credible, he even used this as a reason to ask Dumbledore to teach him combat techniques, but Dumbledore refused," Snape added.
"His prophecy came true."
"If the prophecy Black obtained indeed came from him, I wouldn't be surprised. That is his cleverness. Knowing of your return, he predicted the attack on Azkaban, which was bound to happen," Snape explained. "And once you announce your return, Cornelius Fudge will inevitably step down. After these events unfold, many will believe he has the power of prophecy."
"Indeed, a novelty."
"Find that Mudblood and bring him before me. Wormtail, would you like to take the lead on this?" Voldemort turned to Pettigrew. "I remember it was he who sent you to Azkaban."
Cowering in the corner as he had been from the start, Pettigrew stammered, "M-master, if it is your will, I w-will—"
"Go. I do not require your sacrifice," Voldemort drawled. "You need only find his residence; others will bring him before me. That Mudblood nearly ruined my plan and caused Barty's death; he must pay the price."
A slight commotion stirred among the people at the long table, those wizards who despised Albert excited by Voldemort's decision.
"Forgive me, Master, but dealing with that Mudblood will require preparation. If we are not fully prepared, I suggest it would be best not to act rashly and alert him," Snape interjected, offering a reminder. "If we are not absolutely certain, it is better to leave him be."
"It is rare to hear you speak so highly of a Mudblood," Voldemort said, waiting for Snape to continue.
"I taught him, and I know him. Undeniably, he is a genius. Many believe he is the next Dumbledore," Snape raised his voice so that the surrounding Death Eaters could hear him. "But that guy gives me a very dangerous feeling."
"Dangerous?"
Hearing Snape describe a Mudblood as dangerous, the Death Eaters present couldn't help but laugh.
They were the dangerous ones.
"There were traces of Fiendfyre left in the maze, and no one knows how much Dark Magic that Mudblood truly masters. Even Barty Crouch, together with four helpers, failed to assassinate him in the maze and paid the price. I saw that Mudblood kill Crouch with Fudge's own hand, right before Dumbledore's eyes," Snape shifted the blame onto Albert, inciting hatred among the Death Eaters and warning them not to provoke him.
"It's hard to believe he's just a Mudblood."
"There were rumors that Albert Anderson is a descendant of a very famous pure-blood wizard," Lucius Malfoy suddenly spoke up. "Otherwise, the old fogies of Wizengamot would not have accepted him. These rumors are highly credible."
"Capture him, and if the situation does not permit, kill him. Do not cause too much of a ruckus," in Voldemort's eyes, that Mudblood was already a dead man.
"Lucius, stay."
After the meeting concluded, Voldemort spoke.
The Death Eaters glared at Lucius with jealousy and stood up to leave.
"Master, what are your orders?"
"I once entrusted a diary into your care, did I not?" Voldemort's scarlet eyes shone with an eerie light.
Not long ago, among the things Snape reported to him was that the Chamber of Secrets had been opened two years ago.
"The diary is still with me, Master."
Lucius tried to maintain his composure, but he couldn't hide the tremor in his voice as he recalled the diary with an unknown hole punctured through it. He couldn't imagine what would happen if the Dark Lord saw the damaged diary...
"Do not try to lie to me!"
Voldemort sensed Lucius Malfoy's unusual reaction and felt a foreboding sense of unease.
"The diary you entrusted to me is still with me, Master," Lucius lowered his head further, his gaze avoiding Voldemort's.
"Is it?" Voldemort inquired.
"Yes, Master."
"You lie. I see fear in your face." Voldemort drew his wand.
Lucius's body trembled slightly as he knew what awaited him.
"The diary is indeed still with me, Master," Lucius repeated, his face taut.
"Then bring the diary to me. If it is intact, you will receive my reward. If..." Voldemort didn't finish his sentence, but Malfoy's heart sank.
"Go, and do not keep me waiting too long."
"Master." Lucius immediately knelt on the ground. "The diary you entrusted to me..."
Lucius was engulfed in immense pain, unable to finish his sentence.
"The diary is damaged." Lucius gritted his teeth, enduring the Cruciatus Curse, and spoke with a strained voice.
"Damaged?" Voldemort repeated softly.
"I once tried to use the diary to open the Chamber of Secrets," Lucius explained shakily.
"Bring that diary to me, now!" Voldemort commanded, his face darkening.
"Yes, Master!" Malfoy's mind went blank, but he didn't dare delay. He hurried back to retrieve the diary, relieved that it was still there.
Voldemort was well aware that Horcruxes were protected by powerful Dark Magic and couldn't possibly be damaged. Malfoy's claim that the Horcrux was damaged likely meant that he had lost one of his Horcruxes.
However, when a Horcrux was destroyed, he should have felt it, shouldn't he? Perhaps, due to his state at the time, being less than a ghost, he lacked the physical senses to perceive it. Voldemort recalled Nagini, killed by Dumbledore, and his expression grew even more somber. That meant two of his Horcruxes had been destroyed.
Soon after, Malfoy returned with Riddle's diary, confirming Voldemort's suspicions. The diary was damaged, the piece of soul within it completely gone, and there was an unknown hole punctured through it, filling Voldemort with rage.
Had someone found a way to destroy Horcruxes?
Malfoy, who had initially believed the diary was merely a key to the Chamber of Secrets, now trembled on the ground.
"You have betrayed my trust."
As Voldemort's voice echoed, a piercing scream filled the room.
"Who did this? Who destroyed this diary?" Voldemort's icy voice sent shivers down Lucius Malfoy's spine.
"Harry Potter!"
"Harry Potter does not possess such ability."
"Dumbledore said it was Harry Potter who prevented it all from happening. He also killed the basilisk in the Chamber," Lucius replied, trembling.
As Voldemort vented his anger and gradually calmed down, he realized he had underestimated Harry Potter. Especially now that a Horcrux had been inadvertently destroyed, Voldemort recalled the damned prophecy from years ago.
"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies..."
Snape hadn't overheard the entire prophecy, but what was the other half? He had suffered greatly due to this incomplete prophecy.
"I have another task for you. Retrieve the prophecy orb from the Department of Mysteries. I want the orb containing the prophecy about me and Harry Potter. I need to know the full contents of that prophecy," Voldemort fixed his gaze on the barely-breathing Malfoy and rasped, "Do not fail me again."
"I will not fail you."
Although Lucius Malfoy agreed, his heart sank as he knew that aside from the Unspeakables, no one knew the situation within the Department of Mysteries, and it was impossible to get the Unspeakables to divulge any information.
As for the prophecy Voldemort mentioned, Lucius was, of course, aware of it, and he could roughly guess its contents.
The Dark Lord's equal, this was also the reason why the Dark Lord had attacked the Potters years ago, attempting to kill Harry Potter. Indeed, the prophecy seemed to be coming true.
"Keep this matter confidential for now. Do not tell anyone about it."
"Yes, Master," Lucius Malfoy replied, his head still lowered.
"Very well, you may leave."
(End of Chapter)
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