Karkaroff thought that seeing "Barty Crouch" had stirred up unpleasant mories, which was why he felt so uneasy.
In any case, he had made up his mind—he wasn't going to Britain, no matter what.
He had decided that as soon as he resigned, he would find a place to hide.
Whether the Dark Lord truly returned or not, whatever the outco, he wouldn't be seen again until his dying day.
Voldemort, of course, knew exactly what Karkaroff was afraid of.
To be honest, it was because of people like Karkaroff that the Death Eaters had such a poor reputation.
But Voldemort wasn't like Grindelwald. Grindelwald gathered followers to achieve his ambitions, while Voldemort only needed to rule through fear and oppression. The quality of his followers didn't concern him in the least.
"Then, please take to see Madam Rosier," Barty Sr. (Voldemort) said stiffly.
Soon, under Karkaroff's guidance, Voldemort was brought to an elderly witch with white hair.
She looked as though she might be close to a hundred years old, yet her posture was still remarkably upright.
"Vinda Rosier," the witch introduced herself, extending her hand. After a brief handshake, she invited Voldemort to sit down for a conversation.
It was a relatively pleasant discussion. Voldemort kept up his disguise as Crouch well, while also probing Vinda Rosier's opinions about Hogwarts and, more importantly, Dumbledore.
It was clear that Vinda had little fondness for the century-old headmaster; in fact, she harbored a certain hostility towards him.
This made Voldemort very pleased.
An inherent enemy of Dumbledore was, by default, a natural ally to him.
With a little influence, he could not only undermine Dumbledore's efforts to seek outside support but could also turn this situation to strike back at Dumbledore.
It was a fine plan in Voldemort's mind, but he overlooked the significance of this lady's na.
"Well then, I'll take my leave. I still have to make a trip to France," Voldemort said as he stood up to bid farewell to Rosier, his eyes scanning the surroundings. However, he didn't see any sign of Karkaroff.
He didn't imdiately head to France but instead began searching for the location of the traitor.
anwhile, in a hidden manor sowhere in Britain, dozens of dark wizards, their faces concealed by masks, were wrapped in black robes. Although everyone present knew exactly who was under each robe, the masks allowed them to maintain a pretense of anonymity.
Even if they were captured later, they would have an excuse for denial.
"The Dark Mark has been getting more and more active. It seems like the Dark Lord might really be coming back..."
A voice among them trembled with fear.
The people gathered here were mostly purebloods who had escaped prison by claiming they were under the Imperius Curse. As for those who had betrayed their "friends," they had long since fled, too scared to show their faces.
"Even though we never betrayed anyone, distancing ourselves from the Master already amounts to treachery," Lucius said in a low voice.
His tone was similar to Snape's, though with a touch more pretension.
Unlike the others, Lucius was also nervous, but with Cyrus as his backing, he felt a bit more confident.
"What we need to do now is make ands," he continued. "I plan to organize a gathering at an appropriate ti, perhaps inflicting so light but noticeable damage on the Ministry. We need to instill fear, to let the Master know that we haven't forgotten him, and to show him that we've only been lying in wait for his return!"
This suggestion was t with agreent from many in the group. After all, they needed to do sothing to ensure the Dark Lord didn't think too poorly of them.
"The Master trusted you greatly back then. Has he reached out to you?" one of the dark wizards asked, looking at Lucius.
'That depends on which Master you're talking about,' Lucius thought to himself but outwardly shook his head.
"The Master's most trusted are all in Azkaban!"
This statent clearly added more pressure to the others.
"…Are minor attacks really enough, Lucius?" a wizard asked, his fear causing him to blurt out Lucius' na.
Lucius was slightly displeased, but as he listened to the other wizard's words, he realized that things might be heading in a direction he couldn't control. With a gruff voice, trying to suppress his growing unease, he responded, "What do you propose?"
"We need to do sothing bigger to atone for our mistakes, to quell the Master's wrath!" The wizard, who also belonged to one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight pureblood families, spoke with authority. Given the stakes—their lives and the fate of their families—everyone was eager to hear his suggestion.
"If the Master's most trusted are all in Azkaban, then what if we break them out? If we return to the Master with them and bow at his feet, perhaps he would forgive us?"
This idea garnered a lot of support; they indeed needed to achieve sothing significant to make up for their betrayal.
But Lucius's expression darkened.
If things got too out of hand, what if Cyrus thought he was planning to rejoin Voldemort's ranks? Besides, breaking into Azkaban was fraught with danger.
"This is a perfect opportunity!" the wizard continued. "Most of the Dentors have been reassigned to hunt down that 'Tom Riddle,' so Azkaban is likely at its weakest in terms of security right now."
"But can you handle them?" Lucius quickly interjected, referring to the Dentors.
"They're not only vulnerable to the Patronus Charm," the dark wizard replied.
Dentors only fear the Patronus Charm when it cos to ordinary wizards, but in reality, there are dark magic thods to restrain Dentors. Otherwise, these creatures would be the bane of dark wizards, making it impossible for them to ally with Voldemort.
"So, we're breaking them out?"
"Yes, we'll be breaking them out!"
"Breaking them out!"
The chant grew louder and more fervent as dozens of people raised their fists in unison, the deafening roar echoing around them.
Lucius felt dizzy and overwheld. His only thought now was to find a way to inform Cyrus about this plan. However, another wizard stepped forward and said venomously, "Since everyone agrees, why don't we act now, catch them off guard, and avoid any chance of word getting out?"
'...fuck' Upon hearing this, Lucius felt a chilling coldness in his hands and feet, as if he had just stepped onto a path of no return.
_________
Read 12 Advance Chapters at my Patreon!
Reviews
All reviews (0)