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Chapter 971: Who Placed the Dark Mark?
Chapter 971: Who Placed the Dark Mark?
In Voldemort's eyes, he had gone back on his word. At least, that was how Peter Pettigrew, the rat animagus, saw it.
Ever since Peter had helped Voldemort regain his body, he had not received any of the promised rewards. It was as if Voldemort had forgotten all about it.
Naturally, Peter dared not bring it up with Voldemort, not unless he had a death wish. Especially now, as he found himself in a precarious situation, Peter became even more subservient, hoping Voldemort would not pay him any mind.
However, that was clearly impossible.
For he had been accepted back into the fold of Death Eaters.
Even though he was at the bottom of the pecking order and did not receive the treatment befitting a Death Eater, shunned by his peers, he was still a Death Eater.
And the only benefit this status brought was that he no longer had to worry about being hunted by Sirius Black and Remus Lupin to the ends of the earth! If given a choice, Peter would much rather return to a normal life. Especially after resurrecting Voldemort, the cruel reality had shattered his last shred of fantasy.
But that was an impossibility now.
There was no undoing what had been done.
A few days ago, the Dark Lord suddenly issued an order for Peter to pursue and kill Albert Anderson, the Mudblood.
Good Merlin, this was a suicide mission! Moreover, Peter had no idea where the Mudblood was, and even if he did, he was no match for him. Barty had been defeated by the same boy through trickery, so what could he possibly do?
He was just Peter Pettigrew, nothing more.
Perhaps aware of Peter's limitations, the Dark Lord sent another Death Eater to assist, along with a host of Dark Wizards recruited from Knockturn Alley, yet there was still no sign of progress.
What infuriated Peter the most was that the Dark Lord had placed Selwyn in charge of this secret mission to hunt down the Mudblood, showing no trust in him whatsoever.
What good could come from having Selwyn, a cruel, violent, and rude individual, in charge?
To be honest, Peter couldn't understand what the Dark Lord was thinking. It was obvious to anyone that this small group of theirs stood no chance against that damn Mudblood.
Although Peter despised Snape, he agreed with his assessment of the Mudblood.
If they wanted to kill him, they should not give him any opportunity to escape. Otherwise, it would be best to leave him be, lest they alert him to their plans.
However, the arrogant Selwyn did not see it that way. He barged into the boy's home rudely, and upon finding no one there, he nearly set the place ablaze. He even tortured the Mudblood's neighbors, learning of their cruel fate—winning the lottery and immigrating to America, only to be slaughtered.
When they learned that the Mudblood had fled, Peter breathed a sigh of relief, but his partner, Selwyn, seemed rather frustrated.
To be honest, it would be difficult to pursue someone across the ocean. More importantly, the American magical community was not very welcoming to foreign wizards, and they would need to be discreet to avoid unnecessary conflict.
As the Dark Lord did not wish to reveal his return just yet, they could not afford to be too conspicuous, lest they expose themselves prematurely and incur the Dark Lord's wrath.
If the Dark Lord was displeased, they would all suffer.
"What should we do now?"
"How should I know?" Selwyn replied irritably.
Voldemort's command was to kill the Mudblood, and if they failed to accomplish even this simple task... They would surely lose the Dark Lord's trust and possibly face torture.
"Perhaps," Peter suggested tentatively, "the Mudblood is still in Britain. He might have just guessed that we're after him and gone into hiding, after all, he has the gift of prophecy."
"So what? And do you have any proof? Stop wasting time and come up with a plan," Selwyn snapped.
Finally, Peter came up with a rather dubious idea—to find a Seer to predict where they could locate Albert Anderson.
If there was anyone skilled in finding people, it was the Seers.
Back in the day, Peter had been captured and sent to Azkaban by a Seer. Even if they couldn't find the Mudblood, having a Seer on their side would surely placate the Dark Lord's fury. After all, if the most skilled people-finders couldn't locate him, who were they to do any better?
The question now was, where could they find a Seer?
Seers were always few in number and well-respected, regardless of where they were. People rarely spoke of them, adding to their mystique.
There was a Divination professor at Hogwarts, but they all knew she was a fraud. As for those in Knockturn Alley, they were charlatans as well. If they truly could foresee the future, they wouldn't be dwelling in that wretched place.
Selwyn had no choice but to seek help from his peers, and together, they scoured the records for any Seers in Britain over the last two centuries, hoping to find one who might still be alive.
Finally, they set their sights on Cassandra Vablatsky, the author of 'Unfogging the Future'. Undoubtedly, a witch bold enough to write a book on divination would have some skill in the art, especially if her book was deemed worthy of being a Hogwarts textbook. Cassandra Vablatsky was unlikely to be a fraud, and to Selwyn's convenience, the Malfoys also recommended this centenarian.
The two of them, along with a dozen Dark Wizards, paid a visit to the home of this newly turned centenarian.
However, Cassandra Vablatsky seemed to have anticipated their arrival and had switched residences, leaving her unwelcome guests empty-handed.
As Selwyn tried to pry the centenarian's whereabouts from her descendants, they fortuitously stumbled upon her new location and, coincidentally, met the elderly Seer.
The old woman seemed to know why they had sought her out and readily agreed to perform a divination for them.
Cassandra Vablatsky was no fraud like Trelawney. The things she could discern from her crystal ball were far less straightforward than Albert's visions.
According to the divination, their target would appear in a village in the coming days, most likely Saint-Nicolas-de-Bliquetuit in France.
This was probably a statue of the Lemaire couple; I visited it once when I was younger.
Finally, Cassandra saw the Dark Mark and believed they might succeed in killing their target, which saddened her.
It was hard to say if the divination was accurate, so after some deliberation, they decided to invite her to be their guest.
However, as they prepared to take her with them, they encountered Rufus Scrimgeour, the Head of the Auror Office at the Ministry of Magic, and his companions, who also had an appointment with Cassandra Vablatsky.
Fortunately, a few Dark Wizards from Knockturn Alley provided cover, allowing them to escape unnoticed. Yet, they also failed to capture Cassandra Vablatsky, as the old woman seemed prepared for foul play and attempted to flee, only to be struck unconscious by a Stunning Spell.
Selwyn, at Peter's urging, ultimately chose not to kill Cassandra but instead erased her memories temporarily.
There might come a time when the Dark Lord would need her abilities, especially with the suspected presence of a Seer in the Order of the Phoenix. Perhaps they, too, would need a Seer on their side.
After evading Scrimgeour, the two Death Eaters hurriedly conferred and made their way to Saint-Nicolas-de-Bliquetuit in France, hoping to ambush Albert Anderson.
However, days passed with no sign of him, leading them to suspect that the old woman might have tricked them once more.
To appease the disappointed Dark Wizards who had been keeping watch, Selwyn had no choice but to dig into his own pockets and compensate those who were willing to continue their efforts.
"No benefits, who would willingly waste time here with you?"
Even Voldemort's face wouldn't help in this situation. If they couldn't provoke him, could they at least hide?
Of course, if they were earning galleons every day, they would naturally be willing to waste time here. The longer they stayed, the happier they would be.
In a certain house in St. Nicholas Village, Peter and Selwyn were discussing their strategy.
You might ask, where did they get the house?
Of course, they borrowed it from someone, and Peter was especially skilled at finding people to borrow houses from. Hadn't you seen that even the owner of the house didn't mind?
This secluded house had temporarily become their nest.
"They're not staying here."
Peter, having transformed into a rat, had scurried around the village several times and was certain that the Mudblood wasn't living there.
"So, we were indeed played by that old lady?" Selwyn looked furious and seemed to be considering whether to find an opportunity to kill the old woman.
"Probably not," Peter shook his head. "She willingly showed up, so she probably isn't tricking us. Otherwise, we wouldn't have been able to find her at all. Seers are always eccentric. Let's wait a bit longer!"
Selwyn's face twitched. He had no choice but to endure it since he was the one paying. The little dwarf, Peter, had a cleaner pocket than his face—it was completely empty, not a galleon in sight.
As for the wealth of the Pettigrew family, that was even more out of the question.
In order to complete the task, Selwyn finally nodded in reluctant agreement, grudgingly accepting Peter's suggestion. He didn't want to leave a bad impression of incompetence and ineptitude in front of the Dark Lord.
Just as the two were discussing, there was a brief commotion outside, followed by the sound of their door being flung open. A Death Eater rushed in, panting heavily, and shouted at them, "Bad news! The Dark Mark! Someone used the Dark Mark above the village!"
At that moment, a huge skull formed by green mist hovered over St. Nicholas Village. A huge serpent emerged from the skull's mouth, resembling a tongue.
The Dark Mark, like a terrifying neon sign, illuminated the entire village. The villagers were gradually drawn to the mark in the sky, and those who knew its significance had their faces turn ashen. The once quiet village gradually erupted into commotion.
"Who? Which idiot used the Dark Mark here?"
Selwyn roared angrily, realizing that the Dark Mark was right above their house.
"Only Death Eaters know how to use that spell. We don't," a Death Eater whispered, "I suggest we leave immediately, or we'll definitely attract big trouble."
Voldemort was not as infamous abroad as he was in Britain, but they had still heard of the Dark Lord's notoriety.
Any wizard powerful enough to be known as the Dark Lord was a dangerous existence, and Gellert Grindelwald was a prime example.
"Is it you?"
Selwyn glared angrily at Peter. Only the two of them among the group knew how to cast the Dark Mark.
If it wasn't him, then it had to be Peter.
"How is that possible? Are you insane? I've been here the whole time," Peter's nose was about to be twisted out of shape by his anger. He seemed to realize something, and his face paled as he muttered, "I know, I know, it must be that Mudblood. That guy has connections everywhere, he must know we're here. He wants to kill us, he wants to kill us, that's why the Dark Mark appeared above our house."
"Be vigilant and prepare to retreat."
Selwyn's face darkened. Although he wanted to kill that guy, his mind wasn't clouded by anger.
Regardless of who did it, they had to leave St. Nicholas Village before the French Aurors reacted.
They couldn't afford to be exposed yet.
As they cautiously prepared to leave, the little dwarf, Peter, didn't forget to erase the Dark Mark in the sky.
...
"How did you learn that spell?"
In Nicolas Flamel's house, Isabelle looked out the window at the Dark Mark floating above and asked curiously.
"It's not a very difficult spell. It's only considered Dark Magic because it's the mark of the mysterious wizard," Albert explained.
"They had people watching this place, so I had to find a way to drive them away," he added, giving the Flamel couple an apologetic look.
"Don't apologize, child. It's not your fault," Nicolas comforted him gently, "But it seems you've run into some trouble."
"Remember the mysterious wizard who was after the Philosopher's Stone? He resurrected recently," Albert explained helplessly.
"That's indeed bad news. I recall Albus has been working on resolving this issue," Perenelle said as she brought them some snacks, "But it won't be easy."
"Yes, it won't be easy, but someone has to stand up to him," Albert sighed.
"I thought you were planning to keep them here," Isabelle said, looking at the now-vanished Dark Mark.
"Never mind, it's better to leave them be. If we get rid of this batch, the next group might be even more formidable, and that would be a problem too," Albert had indeed considered keeping them around, but after much hesitation, he decided to plant a mole among them instead.
With his powerful magic, Albert's Imperius Curse was not something anyone could easily break free from. That guy didn't even realize he was being controlled.
As for the Dark Mark, it was naturally cast by some unlucky fellow who had fallen under Albert's Imperius Curse.
Even if they were found out later, it didn't matter, as they had no evidence against him.
"Are you still planning to participate in the Triwizard Tournament?" Nicolas asked gently.
"It might be a bit adventurous," Perenelle commented.
"I'm prepared, and if it becomes too difficult, I'll simply give up," Albert replied without hesitation.
"That's good, don't force yourself."
"By the way, I heard you won the Triwizard Tournament and became the champion. Would you mind sharing your experience with us, Dumbledore said it was a spectacular competition," Nicolas Flamel smiled, asking Albert for his account of the events. He wanted to gauge Albert's abilities and also find some entertainment for himself. Although he was old, he still enjoyed exciting stories.
"Oh, of course, I don't mind," Albert readily agreed. He intended to ask Mr. Flamel if there was a way to store these memories and turn them into a book.
The Pensieve flew to the table, guided by Albert's wand.
Albert extracted his memories and placed them into the Pensieve, and with Nicolas' guidance, the three of them entered his recollection of facing the Hungarian Horntail dragon. They witnessed the events as if they were right beside Albert, facing the fire-breathing dragon.
"That outfit is cool. Is it made from dragon hide?" Nicolas Flamel examined Albert's clothing from the memory and praised it.
"Yes, it's an advertisement for the Wind and Elegance Wizarding Apparel Store. They gave me a set of dragon hide robes," Albert explained, "Of course, without the fancy embroidery."
"Those guys have good taste," Perenelle smiled, "A handsome young man indeed. We're looking forward to your wedding day."
"It's not far off. Professor Dumbledore has also promised to attend the wedding," Albert shared the good news with the elderly couple, "We'll hold it in France."
"In France?"
"Yes, they have an estate there. With Professor Dumbledore present, I don't think anyone would be so bold as to disturb us," Albert said softly.
(End of Chapter)
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