"...Who, who are you?"
Seeing that Lucius had been silent for a long ti, Fudge finally couldn’t help but speak up, gathering his courage. He stared at the face of the fat woman, for so reason feeling that she looked familiar, yet those scarlet eyes made him certain that he had never seen this person before—
"You can ask your good friend here; he might still rember ."
The fat woman spoke, but the voice was that of a man—sharp, piercing, unmistakably male. Fudge had never experienced anything like this before, where just the sound of a voice could make him feel the thick malice from the other side... to such a degree.
As the woman spoke, a smile appeared on her face, but Fudge couldn’t help feeling a chill creeping up his spine.
This person ca with ill intentions.
Fudge instinctively made a judgnt. He panted heavily, pulling the sleeves that had been rolled up on his arms back into place, and then, as suggested by the other side, turned to look at the speechless Lucius Malfoy.
But at this glance, he froze subconsciously—
What’s the situation with this person?
Seeing the expression on the man’s face as if he had eaten twenty pounds of Crup droppings, Fudge fell briefly into bewildernt. He continued to stare at Lucius, who finally returned his gaze, but unfortunately, with the near-zero tacit understanding between them, he didn’t understand what Lucius was trying to convey.
However, the intruding woman didn’t intend to give them the opportunity to cultivate any tacit understanding on the spot. Instead, she walked slowly into the room, her pitch-black robes nearly hiding her figure as she floated in and sat at the head of the dining table—
Previously, in a gesture of equality, Malfoy had not sat there but had chosen a seat opposite Fudge.
"Who, who exactly are you? How dare you..."
After a long silence, Lucius finally gritted his teeth, his face displaying a mix of fear and anger. He tightened the grip on his wand, "Arrogantly" shouting at the fat woman who had sat at the head—
"Crucio!"
The scarlet charm startled Fudge, but the next mont, his ears were filled with Lucius Malfoy’s screams. The man hit by the charm fell to the ground, his face turning ashen, his body arching like a lobster—
Is this an Unforgivable Curse?!
Fudge’s mind was suddenly filled with the charm; he looked sowhat dazed at the scene unfolding before him, his large buttocks plopping back into the chair behind him, the soft high-back chair supporting the man’s body. Yet Fudge couldn’t feel even a hint of warmth from it—
The chill rising from his tailbone completely filled the man’s body, leaving him only able to open his mouth without emitting even a single additional syllable.
anwhile, the woman’s reaction was entirely different. Watching the man struggling and screaming wildly on the ground, a hint of excitent flashed in her scarlet pupils, her originally slightly upturned lips now forming a sickly curve. She suddenly burst into laughter—
The manic laughter and the man’s screams harmonized, and Fudge felt as if he had gone mad, sohow hearing a rhythmic cadence in their sounds.
Just a minute and a half of torture felt like an eternity to Malfoy—
But for so reason, despite the pain, he felt his mind hadn’t completely shut down; now he had a... God-like perspective, seeing himself writhing on the ground, seeing the laughing woman, and seeing the terrified Fudge—
He undoubtedly recognized the identity of this "woman."
Those scarlet pupils, the familiar drawn-out speaking manner, speech full of unhidden malice... He felt perhaps he was foolish, or perhaps it was due to the ten-year gap that he mistook the boy who previously barged in with Greyback for Voldemort.
Moreover, the Crucio he cast was entirely different in taste.
"Mr. Malfoy of Great Beauty" began his critique—
The true Voldemort’s Crucio was like a malicious demon torturing you, preserving your basic ability to scream—probably because Voldemort always enjoyed "sampling" his subordinates’ screams at als.
William’s charm, on the other hand, was entirely different; it was pure malice without any concealnt. Aside from the initial cries, it eventually prevented you from calling out at all.
"Mr. Malfoy of Great Beauty" concluded his critique.
Voldemort’s torture also ca to an end; the woman, having had enough of laughing, lifted her wand slightly. Lucius Malfoy’s screams gradually ceased as he lay gasping on the ground. Then, a pair of roughly size-forty-two feet stepped on his face—
"It seems our esteed Mr. Malfoy no longer recognizes his dearest friend..."
The woman’s face bore a cruel smile as she lightly balanced her wand, her gaze shifting towards Fudge. "It seems I need to introduce myself?"
"Master..."
Malfoy’s weak voice ca from beneath the woman’s feet. Hearing this voice, the fearful expression on Fudge’s face stiffened slightly. He looked sowhat bewildered, staring at the fat woman before him with entirely unfamiliar eyes, his hand that had intended to secretly grasp his wand halting mid-air.
"Ah, so you do rember , honorable Mr. Malfoy."
The smile vanished from the woman’s face, her voice turning cold. She applied slight pressure underneath her foot, and Malfoy felt as if his head was about to explode.
But, Lucius couldn’t help but feel relieved.
This was why he initially pretended not to recognize Voldemort’s identity—he couldn’t show he had already recognized her because the ti he spent in a daze had been too long. It was better to feign ignorance than to avoid the torture and lose his life outright.
Malfoy did not understand Voldemort’s current situation, nor did he know why the latter suddenly made a coback, but those precarious tis ten years ago barely allowed him to guess Voldemort’s temperant. Although he considered him a madman, even madn had a certain logic.
Moreover, Voldemort’s appearance had changed so drastically this ti that even if Malfoy didn’t recognize him imdiately, Voldemort probably wouldn’t genuinely be angry—
So, the only thing left to solve now was his "betrayal" over the past decade.
—Perhaps this was the best solution for Lucius facing Voldemort.
However, the man glanced subtly at his own wrist and then used the montum to support his body with the back of his head against Voldemort’s "prison guard." Lucius’s tone beca extrely humble, his voice carrying just the right amount of tremor, "Master, did you, did you really not... leave us?"
As he spoke, the man’s voice carried a hint of sobbing.
"...?"
Hearing the sadness in the man’s voice, Voldemort was slightly stunned.
"I originally didn’t dare believe it, but everyone told so, and I thought you had already, already..." The man’s voice trembled more intensely, the sorrow overflowing, accompanied by a few perfectly tid teardrops, leaving Voldemort bewildered, "But today, Peter Pettigrew told us you were still alive—"
Tell it to the birds...
Peter barely started revealing Barty Crouch’s secrets before he was blown to smithereens, leaving half a butt behind. What could he say?
Fudge’s fear gradually turned into numbness. Listening to Malfoy’s words, the disbelief in his heart began to gradually accept so reality.
Had Voldemort truly returned?
That old undying Dumbledore hadn’t been lying?
What should I do? Prostrate myself in obeisance? Or refuse to yield even unto death?
...It doesn’t seem like there are other options?
Never mind, let’s see how things unfold—Fudge also glimpsed at his wrist hidden beneath his sleeve, unable to resist holding it with his other hand, as if sensing the blue fla within flickering gently.
While Fudge was lost in his thoughts, Lucius Malfoy’s pursuit for survival continued, as he kept spinning his tale of chaos.
Say, for instance, "I always believed you would return, but the passage of a decade wore down my resolve," "I avoided Azkaban’s punishnt not for myself, but so I could be of so assistance when you returned," "I have always been waiting for you..." and so on—
Feeling the pressure of Voldemort’s "prison guard" on him lighten, Lucius’s deeply bowed face revealed an uncontrollable burst of delight.
Did he really manage to bluff his way through!?
Though caught off guard, Lucius could sense he might truly get away with it, so he hastily seized the opportunity to press on, "Great Master, today, upon hearing all from Peter Pettigrew, I imdiately sought out Fudge—current Minister of Magic—"
As he spoke, he pointed towards Fudge beside him.
Voldemort’s gaze indeed shifted over, wrinkling his brow, "What did you seek him for?"
"To find you, Master, although I know you are omnipotent, I still wished to offer you any assistance I could—Minister could provide help to so extent, so I..."
Having said that, Lucius finally felt the foot pressing against his head remove itself.
Passed!!
Just as a surge of joy flashed in Lucius’s eyes, Voldemort opened his mouth, frowning, his sharp voice still filled with malice, "There’s indeed so reason in your words, moreover, we are indeed in a situation needing manpower; if you could atone for your sins—"
"Great Master, I am willing to give my life for you—"
"As long as you can answer one question for ..."
"Please, Master."
Lucius pressed his head against the ground, panting heavily, asking instinctively.
"Extend your arm, let see why you have not responded to my Dark Mark—"
"..."
In an instant, it was like falling from hell into heaven, as he perceived Voldemort’s impatience, Lucius felt as if he had fallen into an icy abyss.
"Master, I..."
"Hey, I say, Tom, when you beat a dog, you should at least consider its owner, right?"
Finally, a young voice representing salvation to Lucius echoed from beyond the shattered restaurant door.
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