All We Need Do Is Wait

A bolt of lightning struck down. It did little damage, but the humiliation was immense.

Even when Voldemort had been reduced to possessing snakes and eating rats to survive in Albania, he had never felt as humiliated as he did today.

Fiendfyre poured from his mouth, spreading madly in every direction. Everything it touched was swallowed by the inferno in an instant, becoming fuel for Fiendfyre’s growth.

There were even several Death Eaters among it, but Voldemort, consumed by rage, clearly did not care.

Soon, Fiendfyre had spread before Adam.

"Path of the Fire God!"

With a tap of the Wand of Darkness, a path was carved through the surging sea of Fiendfyre, and Voldemort finally found his target.

"Avada Kedavra—"

Voldemort Apparated before Gandalf and immediately raised his hand, firing a Killing Curse filled with fury, but it only shattered an afterimage.

The next instant, the Fiendfyre surrounding him suddenly changed from orange-red to pale white and lunged toward Voldemort at its center—

Adam had already completely mastered the Fire Card’s magic, and Fiendfyre… was fire too, of course!

Sensing that Fiendfyre had suddenly gone out of control, Voldemort did not dare let his guard down. With a wave of his wand, the terrain at his side changed drastically. The ground surged upward, delaying Fiendfyre for a moment, and Voldemort Apparated away at that very moment.

"This is a warning, Voldemort. Or rather… Tom."

Back at Malfoy Manor, Voldemort stared at Gandalf emerging from the white Fiendfyre. His face, nearly as white as Gandalf’s robes, wore an extraordinarily ugly expression.

It was not the first time Fiendfyre had failed to achieve results, but this was the first time… someone had seized control of Fiendfyre directly from his hands, almost instantly, leaving him utterly unable to resist.

That meant the other party’s research into Fiendfyre surpassed his own, and by far—not just by a little!

Was that reasonable?

Even among dark magic, Fiendfyre was among the most dangerous spells, yet a Hogwarts headmaster was more proficient with it than he was?

Who was the Dark Lord here, him or me?!

You decrepit old man dressed in white, but your heart is black as pitch!

If Adam had known what Voldemort was thinking, he would certainly have accused him of slander. However, Adam’s Legilimency had not yet reached the point where he could freely read even Voldemort’s thoughts.

"Voldemort, I have no intention of involving myself in your struggle with Dumbledore. But if you continue laying hands on Hogwarts children and trying to reach into Hogwarts, then prepare to pay an even greater price."

Under Voldemort’s gaze, Gandalf took out a diary and tossed it into the Fiendfyre. Then the Fiendfyre covering the hills and plains instantly went out, and Gandalf vanished along with it.

"No—!"

Voldemort Apparated to where Gandalf had been standing and lowered his head to search everywhere. Yet there was only scorched earth beneath his feet; even the ashes had been burned by Fiendfyre until only a thin layer remained.

Lucius had been punished for several reasons, and his private schemes accounted for only a very small part of them. After all, which of Voldemort’s subordinates did not have schemes of their own?

The main reason was that Lucius had lost one of his Horcruxes!

Voldemort had originally retained a measure of hope. Others might not recognize a Horcrux for what it was, after all; such things belonged to extremely advanced dark magic knowledge. But Gandalf’s actions just now had clearly shattered that illusion.

Voldemort took several deep breaths.

It was fine. It was only one Horcrux. Had he not made so many Horcruxes precisely to deal with situations like this?

Besides, he had hidden his Horcruxes well enough, and every one of them had been stored differently.

On second thought, perhaps the diary’s destruction was not entirely a bad thing. If his enemies believed that his Horcrux had been destroyed and that he had become an ordinary mortal who could be killed, then perhaps he could use this opportunity…

Thinking this, Voldemort’s mood improved again. But when he looked down, it immediately plunged back to rock bottom.

More than a dozen Death Eaters lay on the ground, barely alive and on the verge of death. Beside them were even more Death Eaters who had already been struck dead by lightning… as well as Death Eaters scattered everywhere after being burned by Fiendfyre.

Aside from those carrying out missions elsewhere, these Death Eaters were practically his entire force. If even the few remaining ones all died, he would essentially have no one left to use.

Cursing useless fools inwardly, Voldemort had no choice but to use magic to reshape and heal the Death Eaters’ bodies. It was only basic treatment; these people were not worth too much of his effort.

Then Voldemort summoned back the Death Eaters who were away through the Dark Mark and ordered them to bring several doctors back from St. Mungo’s to provide further treatment for the injured.

After sending a Death Eater to find a new base, Voldemort stood alone amid the ruins, Gandalf’s appearance surfacing in his mind.

Though Gandalf’s attack had made his teeth itch with fury, Voldemort still chose to leave Gandalf alone for the time being and focus on dealing with Dumbledore… and that Boy Who Lived.

Those were his greatest concerns.

And he had to admit that, judging solely from the brief exchange just now, Gandalf was indeed a formidable opponent. If Gandalf joined forces with Dumbledore, his situation would likely become even more difficult.

But it was fine. Gandalf and Dumbledore were both old men, while he, with his Horcruxes, undoubtedly had plenty of time. All he needed to do was wait… wait for those fools at the Ministry of Magic to give him a suitable, proper opportunity to prove his strength.

The brief battle between Gandalf and Voldemort stirred no waves. With the Ministry of Magic not yet under Voldemort’s control, no one dared visit Voldemort’s territory for an interview…

Voldemort certainly would not indulge reporters!

The Daily Prophet carried fewer and fewer reports of victory, replaced by one disappearance report after another. The atmosphere at Hogwarts grew increasingly heavy, because some students found people they knew on the lists of the missing.

"Another student has applied to go home."

Professor McGonagall came to The Office with a letter in hand and could not help sighing.

"Poor child."

"Mm, the application comes from his father. Approve it, then. Tell him there will be a Hogwarts Express at nine in the morning the day after tomorrow, and not to miss it."

After checking the application and confirming that there were no issues, Adam directly approved the student’s departure.

"Adam, I think we should do something. You cannot just let them leave Hogwarts like this… You know very well what happened to those missing people. These children will be in danger as well once they go home."

Seeing Adam approve another student’s application without hesitation, Professor McGonagall could not help saying,

"At the very least, we should try to persuade them… They will be safer if they remain at Hogwarts."

"Professor McGonagall, they understand that perfectly well."

Adam set down the application letter and met Professor McGonagall’s eyes.

"We are school professors. We have an obligation to ensure our students’ safety on campus, but we are only school professors as well. We have no right to force students to stay or leave, nor to decide their lives for them."