Dumbledore froze.
Fawkes seized the mont to scurry back to his perch, where he summoned a burst of fla to incinerate the two jars he held into ash. After all, he was just a poor, innocent, and adorable phoenix—how could he possibly be up to anything sinister?
Dumbledore had no ti to mourn the loss of those two secretly purchased jars of cockroach clusters.
"Did Crouch finally say sothing to you?" he asked, instantly grasping the implications behind Snape's words.
Snape shook his head gravely.
Another possibility dawned on Dumbledore. "Voldemort contacted you?"
Snape nodded. "Today. In Little Hangleton. He's planning to resurrect."
"Little Hangleton?" Dumbledore frowned.
Snape said nothing, just stared at him.
Two years ago, during Harry's fourth year, during the Triwizard Tournant, Voldemort's main soul attempted to return to life—also in Little Hangleton.
And now, once again—Little Hangleton.
The office was silent, the only sound the occasional flap of Fawkes's wings.
Snape grew impatient. "Albus, what are you thinking?"
"This is a perfect opportunity."
"If Nagini is still where she was, and that Horcrux hasn't been moved—we can destroy another one!"
"Then Voldemort's threat will be no more!"
Dumbledore nodded slowly. "Severus, calm yourself."
"Yes, I understand. But..."
"Would Voldemort really do this?"
Snape paused. His emotional state made Dumbledore's counter-question hard to process.
Dumbledore waved his hand, conjuring a chair for Snape to sit, then asked, "Two years have passed. Now he's connected with another world—a powerful race with magic that can traverse worlds, conquer entire realms."
"Would he really be so backward as to use the sa ritual from two years ago?"
Snape cald and sat.
Dumbledore had deduced the resurrection ritual from Harry's descriptions: bone of the father, flesh of the servant, blood of the enemy.
The servant obeys. The enemy can be captured. But the father's bones lie quietly in a grave.
That's why the site was Little Hangleton.
But Dumbledore made a good point—two years later, would Voldemort still cling to that old thod?
He'd had plenty of chances to return.
Even when he was sent to that Aen Elle realm, he could have used their help to resurrect—but he didn't.
The reason, both Dumbledore and Snape could guess:
The standard resurrection would grant him no additional power. He'd want more—enough to overwhelm both Dumbledore and Potter.
"He doesn't trust , he's testing ?" Snape frowned.
Dumbledore shook his head. "Not necessarily."
"Maybe he believes I monitor you. That the mont you leave Hogwarts, I'd follow."
Snape said nothing.
Dumbledore continued, "Harry also warned . No matter what, I must not leave Hogwarts."
"Even if Voldemort is using the old thod, this still isn't necessarily a bad thing."
"Severus..."
Now fully calm, Snape's sharp mind resud its work. He cut Dumbledore off, nodding. "I know. I'll go. And I'll probe the Dark Lord's mind—to ensure he hasn't made more Horcruxes."
Dumbledore smiled. "That would be best. Thank you."
Snape sneered.
"But, dear Professor Snape," Dumbledore said, raising his hand and summoning several class schedules to his desk, "I believe you have class right now."
He pulled one out. "Ah, indeed."
Snape scoffed. "Let's hope a few fourth-years, having sat through my class, can now defeat the Dark Lord."
"Harry did it in fourth year," Dumbledore said smugly. He was quite pleased to finally get in a coback.
Snape squinted. "Then I'll return to class now. This afternoon I'll bring them along to face him."
"I'll ask Sirius to cover your lesson," Dumbledore replied, summoning his Patronus to send a ssage.
Snape rose.
Casting a Disillusionnt Charm on himself, he returned to his office.
Before leaving, he had one last thing to do. If Voldemort really returned, he needed soone to witness his loyalty.
Crouch stirred.
Through the window, he sensed that spring had finally co to the real world.
And he... had lived through decades of seasons in his dreams.
"Barty." The black sli oozed from beneath his body. Snape's fake-cheerful voice greeted him, "Good news."
Crouch said nothing.
"The Dark Lord has returned," Snape said softly.
Crouch snapped his head up.
Snape continued, "He just contacted . He'll return today—resurrected. But the place is Little Hangleton, not Hogwarts."
Crouch spoke weakly, "Really? What are you wondering, Severus?"
"Why Little Hangleton?" Snape asked bluntly. "Based on what you said—"
Crouch cut him off. "The father decides everything."
"Even if I crafted many of our plans, Father is Father."
"Severus, Father needs you now. I can still hold on. I can hold on for a long ti."
He closed his eyes.
A few minutes later, the black sludge dissipated.
He counted silently.
Still ten minutes. No change.
Snape left Hogwarts, fully concealed with a Disillusionnt Charm. As soon as he passed the wards, he Apparated.
In a flash, he appeared in Little Hangleton.
In the graveyard where the Riddle family lay.
It was quiet—no people, no animals.
He stood, waiting.
The two-way mirror in his cloak buzzed.
Snape took it out. Karkaroff's face appeared again.
"Severus, you've arrived," Voldemort's voice said.
Snape nodded. "Yes, my Lord. Dumbledore tried to follow, but I lost him. He doesn't know my destination."
"You've done well, Severus," Voldemort said calmly. "Now I have your first task for you."
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