Chapter 245
Inside the grand Malfoy Manor, beneath a towering ceiling filled with dancing shadows cast by the flames in the fireplace, the atmosphere was charged with unparalleled tension.
Dim light threw shifting shadows across the stone walls decorated with ancient magical carvings, while the echoes of heavy breathing reverberated throughout the vast hall.
At the center of the room stood a long black table, its reflective surface gleaming beneath the carefully arranged candles along its sides. More than ten people sat around it, each bearing different expressions of anticipation, loyalty, or suppressed fear.
Bellatrix Lestrange sat there, the obsessive devotion in her wide eyes burning with an unquenchable madness. She leaned slightly forward, eagerly waiting for any word from her master. Her gaze never left him, as though she worshipped an untouchable god. (Astaghfirullah.)
Beside her sat Barty Crouch Jr., his body rigid and his face unusually pale, yet his eyes shone with excitement equal to Bellatrix's. He had sacrificed much to be here, to sit before the Dark Lord and prove his unwavering loyalty.
Antonin Dolohov reclined against his chair, his arms folded across his chest and his gaze as cold as ice. He needed no words to prove his loyalty; his actions spoke louder than any oath.
Narcissa Malfoy differed from the others. Despite wearing an elegant dark robe, anxiety was visible in her blue eyes, as though she hid something she dared not reveal. She occasionally glanced at her husband, Lucius Malfoy, who sat beside her with a composed expression. Yet everyone knew that deep down, he was terrified, especially after the repeated failures that had haunted his service to the Dark Lord.
Across from them sat Severus Snape, calm as always. His face revealed no emotion, but his deep eyes observed every movement in the hall.
And at the head of the table sat Lord Voldemort himself. He needed no introduction. His thin frame did nothing to diminish his presence; instead, he radiated an aura of terror and absolute authority.
He wore dark green robes that flowed like living shadows around his slender body, while the firelight reflected off his unnaturally pale skin. His bald head and marble-like complexion only enhanced his unsettling appearance, but the most terrifying features were his noseless face and his glowing red eyes, which burned like twin flames.
There were no whispers or side conversations—only heavy silence filling the hall as everyone awaited the words that would determine their fate.
Suddenly, that silence was broken by a faint rustling sound. At first, its source was unclear, but it came from beneath the table, slowly slithering across the stone floor with a sound that sent chills down the spine.
Voldemort slightly raised his head. Rather than fear or annoyance, a twisted smile appeared on his thin lips as he spoke in his calm yet terrifying voice.
"Nagini... come to me."
From the shadows emerged the giant serpent, Nagini, slithering steadily around the table legs before climbing the side of Voldemort's chair and settling beside her master. Her golden eyes gleamed with unnatural intelligence, as though she understood everything happening around her.
The snake wrapped herself around Voldemort while he gently stroked her head with his long, pale hand in a strangely affectionate manner.
"My followers..." Voldemort began, his voice making the air itself feel colder. "Many years have passed since we last gathered here, and now we stand on the threshold of a new era... an era in which things shall finally be restored to their rightful order."
His words carried a dark promise, and his followers' eyes burned with excitement—except for a few who knew very well that a single wrong word or movement could mean their end.
Standing in the center of the grand hall, Voldemort let his crimson eyes sweep across the faces before him.
The shadows danced across the walls from the blazing torches, adding even more dread to the room. He raised his skeletal hand slightly, and everyone immediately fell silent.
"I thank all those who helped bring me back," he said in his cold, serpentine voice. "Those who worked to ensure that I stand here today, stronger than before and closer to fulfilling my destiny than ever."
He paused briefly, a faint smile appearing on his lips.
"Junior... Peter..."
At the mention of his name, Peter Pettigrew froze by the door. For a moment, he didn't know whether to approach or remain where he was. Nevertheless, he couldn't hide the smile that appeared on his face, though fear was clearly visible in his eyes. His heart pounded violently, for he knew the Dark Lord never mentioned someone's name without reason.
Meanwhile, Barty Crouch Jr. stood proudly, his head held high and his eyes shining with excitement.
Then Voldemort shifted his gaze toward Bellatrix, whose eyes gleamed with fanatical devotion, then toward Dolohov, who stood like a pillar of strength and brutality, awaiting any command. Finally, Voldemort looked once more at Junior and said:
"And now... after our successful raid on Azkaban and your return to your rightful places at my side, I believe the time has come to begin our next step. The past was merely a prelude. Now... we shall reclaim control of this world, as it should have been years ago!"
Excitement spread among those present. Junior and Dolohov's eyes gleamed with anticipation, as though they could already see the glory awaiting them.
Voldemort smiled again, but this time his smile carried deeper meaning.
"I wish to assign one of you a task... of utmost importance. Whoever completes it perfectly... I shall grant them their desire."
The moment those words left his lips, Bellatrix immediately raised her hand, her eyes sparkling eagerly. Dolohov also raised his hand, determination evident on his face.
The others remained silent, wondering who would receive such an honor.
Voldemort smiled faintly.
"Interesting..."
He paused, enjoying their expressions.
"Very well. This mission..."
His eyes moved from one follower to another before he continued:
"I want one of you to infiltrate the Ministry. Quietly. No noise, no evidence leading back to us. Your target is the fifth room on the second floor. Inside lies something of immense importance... a black stone that I need desperately."
Silence filled the room.
"I cannot go personally," Voldemort added softly, "because I do not wish the world to know that I have returned. Otherwise, I would have gone myself and retrieved it with ease."
No one dared challenge him.
Yet some secretly wondered why he truly refused to go.
Naturally, one conclusion appeared in several minds.
Dumbledore.
If there was one person capable of opposing the Dark Lord, it was Albus Dumbledore.
And perhaps... Voldemort had not fully recovered yet.
Despite all these thoughts, no one dared speak them aloud.
Instead, everyone waited to see who would volunteer.
The atmosphere remained tense as Voldemort's glowing red eyes moved across his followers.
Then, with a slight smile, he announced:
"Dolohov."
Dolohov immediately stood and bowed.
"At your command, my Lord."
But before he could proceed, another hand rose.
Snape's.
Everyone's attention turned toward him.
His narrow eyes met Voldemort's, and though there was caution in them, there was no hostility.
Voldemort merely smiled.
"Why, Snape? Are you upset that Dolohov received this mission? Are you jealous of him?"
He let out a low, cruel laugh.
The Death Eaters joined in, laughing as they always did whenever their master laughed, though many were secretly nervous.
After a few moments, Voldemort's laughter ceased.
"Enough!"
Instantly, silence returned.
Snape raised his head calmly.
"That is not the case, my Lord."
All eyes turned to him.
"While I was attending a meeting with our enemies, where they were discussing how to eliminate you, that boy Albert devised a plan I had not expected. I never imagined he would predict what is about to happen."
Everyone froze.
Even Voldemort's eyes gleamed with curiosity.
"What did he predict that I did not?"
Snape inwardly smiled before answering calmly:
"He told them that while Dumbledore would be absent from protecting the fifth room due to Harry's hearing, you would take advantage of the opportunity and send someone to attack that location. However, he himself would guard the very rooms that are our target. Thus, while everyone believes that your absence means no attack will occur, in reality, you would send someone else."
Silence spread throughout the hall.
How could that boy Albert have predicted this?
Voldemort's expression darkened.
"That is precisely what I do not want. I will not allow anyone to interfere with my desires. Tell me, Snape... what do you recommend?"
Snape lifted his head and looked toward Lucius Malfoy.
"Since Lucius Malfoy is a member of the Ministry, he is the only one who can help us carry out the attack. He can stand at the forefront and assist one of us in entering the Ministry without arousing suspicion. No one in the Ministry would suspect an attack because he is one of their own."
Voldemort turned toward Lucius and slowly nodded.
"Yes... you are correct. Junior has told me about that boy Albert's strength. Despite being injured in the graveyard, he proved himself formidable. Therefore, I shall send two followers instead of one."
His red eyes settled on Lucius.
"Lucius... you will accompany Dolohov to the Ministry."
Dolohov immediately bowed with confidence.
"At your command, my Lord."
To be continued...