In the Harry Potter Without Harry Potter

Chapter 359: Deep meaning (2 in 1)

It was quiet inside the Slytherin chamber.

The shackled dwarf was still slumped quietly in front of the statue, as if dead.

There was no expression on Voldemort's face as he slowly stepped inside the chamber.

The floor was lit up with the Ancient Runes, the dense lines flickering as if celebrating the arrival of their lord.

Walking up to the statue, he looked at the deadly quiet dwarf and waved the wand in his hand.

Without any incantation being recited, nor did it look like any magic was being cast, the written glyphs around him converged with a sudden burst, impacting the dwarf, whose body had begun to become illusory, together with the five chains.

Voldemort lifted one of his feet, the expensive leather boots just stomping down on the dwarf's body, and the next moment the round-faced, big-jawed dwarf shattered into pieces, and the ancient runes around him shone even brighter.

"The spirit of the dead."

With those words, Voldemort turned and walked towards the exit of the chamber, as if he hadn't noticed that anyone else had been in this chamber sometime before.

The door to the chamber closed tightly again, and the glowing ancient runes gradually reverted to their original dull appearance, and the whole chamber went dark and became incomparably quiet.

The silence lasted for a good long while, and in the dead of night there was a sudden click in the darkness, and the mouth of the statue of Salazar Slytherin suddenly opened!

A little girl, clad in a cloak of invisibility and holding a phoenix in her arms, crawled out of it.

Her face was visibly pale from the fear she felt, but instead of rushing to leave immediately, she pulled out a thick roll of parchment from the little pouch she had brought with her, spread it out on the ground and then, following the faint light from her Wand-Lighting Charm, copied the ancient runes on the ground bit by bit onto the paper.

Voldemort's presence was seen by many.

At the edge of the Forbidden Forest, Jon had witnessed the burst of black mist surrounding Hogwarts Castle, slaying each and every one of those dragons with a means that was plain and simple, yet made the hearts of everyone who saw it jump.

This man proved that he truly possessed incredible strength.

In the Forbidden Forest, even the enhanced version of Jon's killing curse that he had used with all his might was unable to achieve the true effect on the Hungarian Horntail Dragon, but at the hand of Voldemort, the killing curse was truly a genuine Unforgivable Curse.

As each green light flared, there was bound to be an end to life.

An ecstatic look appeared on Bonnesante's face after he saw that all the dragon scourges in the castle had been dealt with.

He looked at Dumbledore, Jon, and the others with a cocky look on his face, as if he had already thrown the tournament out of his mind.

"Whatever your schemes and tricks, they are all in vain before the Lord! Do you think that a bunch of dragons can make Hogwarts Castle fall? Dream on!"

Jon looked at him with a speechless expression, this Deputy Headmaster of Beauxbatons was probably scared out of his wits by Rosier.

Whose plotting and scheming was this whole swarm of dragons incident?

He really wasn't unaware of it, was he?

Just a few minutes after the burst of black mist had resolved all the dragons and then disappeared.

Suddenly, a handsome male wizard dressed in an exquisite dark green robe slowly came from the edge of the black lake to this tournament ground.

No one was able to discern any expression on his face; he was as inscrutable as the dark clouds in the sky, changing from thunderstorm to wind and sunshine in the blink of an eye.

"Sir."

Matthew bowed slightly and addressed the man who was stirring up turmoil in Europe.

Even now, few people knew Voldemort's full name, and even if they did, there were only a handful who dared to address him directly by his name, or his family name.

On formal occasions, he is usually addressed as Sir, with the prefix "The Great" added by those who are more fanatical about him.

"My lord! They're cheating! That little mudblood cheated and beat Emil! You must bring justice, you initiated this tournament, so we must make sure it's fair!"

Bonnesante cried out and hugged Voldemort's thighs, tearfully accusing Jon of committing their crimes.

The atmosphere suddenly became a little sombre, one might even say tense.

Only a few of the reporters who were willing to give their lives for the sake of the news remained to do their work, turning their flashes on and off, still persisting in their efforts to freeze the frame to get the news for the next two weeks out of it.

The majority of the reporters who had sensed that something was wrong with the situation didn't dare to linger for a moment and trotted away from the confines of Hogwarts with their cameras in hand.

They had got enough for today, staying any longer might lead to bigger news, but that was only possible if they had their lives to take it out with them.

Jon looked at the man calmly and Voldemort was looking at him calmly as well.

"You've really exceeded my expectations, surprising me over and over again, Jon Green."

His words carried no hint of malice as if he was genuinely expressing his praise for Jon.

No one could hear much anger coming out of his mouth like it didn't matter to him at all what had befallen Hogwarts Castle like it had tonight.

Jon stared into Voldemort's eyes, trying to see in his eyes what this completely different Voldemort was thinking right now.

However, there was no way for a person's eyes to express a person's heart in detail, and the most Jon could tell was that he really wasn't acting in some disguise, and wasn't very concerned about not killing himself this time and instead having Hogwarts Castle attacked.

So what exactly was he actually after?

Hadn't he intended to murder him, by arranging these dragons?

He looked so carefree as if he still had control of the whole scene when he showed up.

Bonnesante was still hugging Voldemort's lap, while his lord hadn't even looked towards him from the beginning.

"So the first tournament task is over? What was the score?"

Matthew answered his question.

"Jon Green got a hundred points, Diane Rosier and Emil Lestrange both got seventy points."

After hearing his words, Voldemort suddenly kicked Bonnesante away from his leg.

"Since the panel of judges has already agreed on a score, that means they recognise the current score, I invited the judges of the Confederation, so that means I trust their abilities, is it your turn to talk about unfairness here?"

Bonnesante was full of aggression.

"But they even said we cheated, my lord! They claimed that we were the ones who were behind all this dragon rampage!"

Voldemort's face was flat.

"So we plotted it?"

"Of course not!"

Bonnesante's voice had never been this loud.

"Then what are you getting agitated over? We know ourselves that we're not guilty, so let them look into it, and I assume that since Mr Graves can make sure the tournament remains fair, he won't let either side be subjected to such a smear, will he?"

Facing Voldemort's gaze, Matthew visibly took on a lot of pressure as he swallowed.

"That's what I came here for, sir."

"Very well."

Voldemort's gaze turned back to Emil, who was bowing his head, not daring to look at him, with shame plastered across his face.

"I never expect young people to always succeed in whatever they do, but surely you won't let me down all the time either, will you?"

There was no harsh rebuke, more like a word of encouragement that allowed Emil to re-calm himself and look up at Voldemort with a look of passion and determination, a look of reverence as if he would have no hesitation if Voldemort had ordered him to die on the spot.

"No more, sir, I won't let you down again!"

Jon watched all this in silence, from Cedric's exchange with him in the Forbidden Forest and from scenes like this one now, he could easily tell that Voldemort was actually more reputable among the younger wizards.

"Now that we're all done with the first task, let's all get back to resting as early as possible. I'm looking forward to the next task, and I hope it will bring me even more exciting scenes than tonight."

It was as if he didn't think the fact that the castle had been attacked by dragons was something that should bring him great disgrace as Headmaster, but just as he was about to leave straight away, a gentle voice suddenly rang out.

"Are you planning to go back to the Ministry of Magic? Riddle."

The whole scene suddenly became incredibly quiet, and everyone held their breath at the sound of the family name, which was not exactly a rarity in the magical world, but at this moment it felt strange to the vast majority of people.

There was only one person in that area who dared to address Voldemort in such a manner.

Dumbledore looked over to Voldemort whose pace suddenly stopped at his feet, the smile on his face not half fading.

"After all that has happened at the school, yet you have to pretend to be so casual and indifferent, are you really not going to stay in the castle for the night and appease the emotions of your men and the students?"

None of those present, except Jon, understood exactly what Dumbledore meant by these words which were more like a suggestion.

They all knew that there was clearly an irreconcilable conflict between the two men, yet they heard no hint of fire in the words.

However, Voldemort, who had always remained calm, turned around at this time and looked at Dumbledore with an unmistakable grim look on his face.

"Don't blame me for not warning you beforehand, old man, since you have already made a blood pact, you better honestly follow the rules of the tournament and get it over with. If you want to make any other small moves of any kind, be careful of the consequences!"

His sudden outburst baffled all the others, but they could all see that Dumbledore's words had clearly touched some sort of scale in Voldemort's mind.

But his threat didn't change Dumbledore's expression much, he remained as calm as ever.

"Provided, of course, that you also ensure that the tournament itself is also proper."

"The whole making a blood pact thing is certainly guaranteed."

"It is only the result, not the tournament itself, that is limited by the blood pact, as you and I both know."

"Then if you knew about it, why didn't you refuse me then!"

"Because things don't always turn out the way you think they should do they?" Dumbledore blinked.

Voldemort's face grew colder and colder.

"Then let's keep it on track."

With that, he walked off towards the castle without looking back.

Seeing him leave, Bonnesante and Emil also had no intention of staying on and followed him, also leaving the edge of the Forbidden Forest.

In the end, only Dumbledore and his group and the three judges of the Confederation were left there.

Matthew looked over at Dumbledore, still holding the vial with Jon's own drawn memories in it.

"I will look into what happened in the tournament, Albus, but you should be able to understand that in situations like this nothing definitive will be determined at all."

It was certainly clear to both Dumbledore and Jon that even if the evidence would be conclusive, the incident would have little impact on the situation.

Unless Voldemort was going to be definitively defeated and lose the strength to fight them, even if there would be more evidence, as long as the other side bite the bullet there would be nothing more to follow.

"I can understand your difficulty, and you have done well enough so far, after all, you are only an outsider."

Dumbledore said softly, then turned around with Jon and Rosier as they too were ready to leave from here.

"Get an early night's rest, you'll have your hands full with preparations for the second task afterwards."

On the way back, Jon could clearly feel that Dumbledore was quick on his feet as if there was something urgent.

"What's wrong? Professor."

Dumbledore's face was grim.

"We have to get back as soon as possible to see if Hermione has returned."

Back at the castle Voldemort's face remained the gloomy as it had been at the end of his conversation with Dumbledore.

Upon his return, Snape greeted him with a quick step, surrounded by a number of Professors, even if many of them still had injuries, as long as these people could still breathe and move, they wouldn't dare to be lying in a sickbed when their Lord arrived in the castle.

"How are things being handled?"

"We've got the students all settled in, Crouch is taking the men to examine the dragon corpses and Amycus is ascertaining the damage to the castle, but it doesn't look like there should be much damage so far."

"What about on personnel?"

"Two dead, an Auror accidentally impaled by the fangs of a Peruvian Vipertooth dragon, and the half-blood house Pierre was killed by Crouch for cowardice."

"Take all these men and get to work, and find out the reason why these dragons have suddenly targeted the castle for me as soon as possible, I want your report on my desk by this time tomorrow."

"I understand, my lord."

With a serious expression, Snape led those around him away, leaving Voldemort standing all alone in the castle's entrance hall, still thinking about that last conversation Dumbledore had with him.

He felt that the cunning old man intended to say more than just that; the fact that Dumbledore had called out to him the moment he was about to leave was in itself food for thought.

Suddenly, Voldemort narrowed his eyes as his body reverted to a black mist and flew towards the seventh floor of the castle!

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