Hogwarts: I am Snape

Chapter 138 The King Meets the King

Fawkes' feathers acted like a magnet in the darkness, guiding Dumbledore's way.

After several apparitions to calibrate his direction, the principal followed the faint sensations emanating from the feathers as he traversed the wilderness outside England.

After passing through the last thicket of bushes, a magnificent manor suddenly came into view, like a sleeping monster lying prostrate in the night.

Unlike the ostentatious luxury of Malfoy Manor, which kept white peacocks, the Lestrange family's residence exudes an aura of dignity honed by time.

Soaring Gothic spires pierced the gradually brightening sky, and ancient ivy climbed the black stone walls. Above the main entrance, a raven spread its wings, clutching a magic wand in its claws, its ruby-set eyes seemingly watching the uninvited visitor.

From this distinctive family crest, Dumbledore recognized that this was Lestrange Manor.

The manor was shrouded in powerful protective magic. Dumbledore could feel the magical fluctuations permeating the air, like countless invisible spiderwebs intertwined.

His azure eyes narrowed slightly behind his crescent-shaped glasses as he carefully discerned the magical traces: red protective spells, purple warning spells, and several black, unsettling barriers of dark magic.

At this moment, the sky was already turning a pale white, the morning stars were gradually fading, and the pre-dawn sky presented a sickly gray-blue color.

Dumbledore stood in the shadows of the trees on the outskirts of the manor, quickly waved his wand, and chanted a complex spell.

His body began to become transparent, blending into the surrounding environment, and Fox turned into a red light and disappeared into his robe.

He held the Elder Wand and cautiously approached the door. The door was tightly shut, and there was no sign of anyone entering or leaving.

"Let me see..." Dumbledore murmured silently, gently stroking the cold surface of the door with his fingertips, feeling the ancient magical fluctuations emanating from it.

Then, he whispered something to the iron gate in a strange, ancient language.

Finally, the door trembled slightly, opening a narrow crack just wide enough for one person to pass through.

After he stepped into the courtyard, the gate closed silently.

The interior of the manor was even more sinister than the exterior, with deep red carpets on the floor and iron chandeliers hanging from the high ceiling, their candlelight flickering in glass cases and casting shifting shadows.

A deep voice came from the hall ahead, and Dumbledore silently slid toward the source of the sound.

As he drew closer, he recognized three familiar voices: Bellatrix Lestrange, her husband Rodolphs, and his brother Rabastan.

Through the half-open carved wooden door, he saw them sitting around a round obsidian table with several parchment sheets and empty wine glasses scattered on it.

Bellatrix's signature black hair, characteristic of the Black family, was disheveled, and there was a seemingly fresh wound on her right cheek near the corner of her eye. Although it had stopped bleeding, it was still bright red.

"—The master will be unhappy," Rodolphs' voice was low and cautious. "We have ten fewer Muggles than planned. If this continues..."

“Shut up!” Bellatrix suddenly snapped, impatiently tossing her thick, black curly hair. “Many of those filthy creatures died halfway there. They couldn’t even handle the Portkey journey, vomiting and fainting like puddles of mud, it was disgusting!”

“What are you trying to say, Rodolphs?” Her voice trembled slightly as she ran her fingers over the wound on her face. “Do you think I want to go to my master with a defeat?”

"Alright, stop arguing." Rabastan leaned against the fireplace, a mocking smile on his face. "I've said it before, Muggles are ridiculously inferior, they can't even handle the most basic magical travel." Disgust etched itself on his gaunt face. "As fragile as insects, can the master really count on these useless pieces of trash?"

Just then, a soft sound came from behind Dumbledore, followed by a heavy thud as something fell to the ground.

A Death Eater wearing a silver mask steadied himself, holding a door key, and appeared in the middle of the corridor with a group of unconscious Muggles.

Dumbledore quietly stepped back a few paces, hiding in the shadows of the corridor, watching as the Death Eaters roughly dragged the unconscious Muggles, bound by magical ropes, past him and into the main hall.

They were a middle-aged Muggle couple and their daughter. All three were pale, their eyes were closed, and there were traces of vomit at the corners of the little girl's mouth.

“Another group,” the Death Eater reported gruffly to Bellatrix as he entered. “This is my fourth batch today. We’ll be able to fulfill Master’s request in two more days.”

“Take them down there.” Rodolphs waved his hand dismissively. “Remember, make sure they’re alive, at least until we send them away. Don’t let the bodies rot like last time.”

The Death Eaters grabbed the unconscious Muggles and dragged them toward a narrow, dark passageway on the other side of the hall. Dumbledore noticed that whenever a Muggle let out a faint groan, the Death Eaters would immediately cast a Stunning Curse.

As the Death Eaters disappeared into the distance, Bellatrix suddenly lowered her voice, her eyes gleaming with fanaticism: "Don't you understand? Master wants so many Muggles to build an army, an army of Infernals!" Her voice trembled with excitement, and her fingers twisted together unconsciously.

“Infernals…” Labastan stroked his chin thoughtfully. “Indeed, it suits Master’s style. Imagine hundreds or thousands of undead storming the Ministry of Magic. Even if each one is somewhat weak, they would be enough to tear the Ministry’s officials apart. That would usher in a new era for pure-blood wizards!”

“The Ministry of Magic?” Bellatrix interrupted him, a cruel smile on her face. “No, my dear brother, I would much rather Master take down Hogwarts first! That old mad headmaster is always going against Master, he’s really annoying.”

“And…” Her fingers gently touched the wound on her face again, a morbid hatred flashing in her eyes, “I have a lovely friend who’s still there.” She said through gritted teeth, “I hope to go to Hogwarts as a teacher before he graduates and give him a good ‘tutoring’.”

“A ‘special tutoring session’ every day,” she chuckled again, “I’m going to make him regret living to this age. Until he begs me to rip his guts out and feed them to the giant squid to end his life…”

Bellatrix's voice gradually faded, turning into a chilling murmur.

Rodolphus and Rabastan involuntarily shrank back. They exchanged a glance.

Ever since the failed operation to purge the Black family traitors, Bellatrix returned with this scar, and she has occasionally unleashed an uncontrollable hatred. But she refuses to tell them who left this red mark on her face, a mark that even her master has been unable to remove.

While the Lestranges continued to dream of the wonderful life their master would have in power, Dumbledore quietly walked toward the dark passage on the other side.

Fox's feathers warmed slightly in his pocket, continuing to guide him.

The passage descended, growing steeper and steeper until it became a spiral staircase leading downwards. Dumbledore moved along the wall like a shadow. As he brushed past the Death Eater he had just encountered, he caught a whiff of the man's thick stench of blood and sweat.

At the end of the stone steps was a cold and damp dungeon, with torches stuck in the rough stone walls, the shadows of the flames dancing on the walls.

Two masked Death Eaters stood in the center of the dungeon, receiving newly arrived Muggles. In the corner, seven or eight unconscious Muggles were piled up haphazardly like merchandise, some even stacked on top of each other.

“This one’s about to wake up,” one of the Death Eaters said, casting a Stunning Spell on the Muggle man who was starting to convulse. “What a nuisance. Why can’t we just kill them? It would save us from having to keep an eye on them all the time.”

“Because the master said he wanted them alive.” Another Death Eater, who looked to be of a higher rank, looked at him coldly. “You only need to obey, don’t ask questions.”

“I’m just curious why it’s so complicated,” the first Death Eater shrugged. “Why not just send all the Muggles to their destination at once, instead of transferring them here? And where exactly are they going to be sent?”

“Karu,” the high-ranking Death Eater suddenly turned, wand pointed at his companion’s throat, “you’re my second partner since I got here. Do you know where Sean Rivera is?”

“I…I don’t know…” The Death Eater named Karu became visibly nervous. “Hey, relax, Charles.”

“Sean is just as curious as you are,” Charles hissed in a low voice. “So he went with a bunch of Muggles.” He paused. “And then? Nobody ever saw him again. Master said curiosity is a bad thing. So, I’ll ask you one more time, do you have any more questions?” He gave his wand a meaningful shake.

"N-nothing." Karu shook his head quickly, his eyes behind the mask widening in fear.

Dumbledore observed all of this quietly, already having made up his mind.

By this time, there were more than ten Muggles in the dungeon. Two Death Eaters began to roughly bind them together with a rusty iron chain.

After making sure their bodies were in contact, Charles took out an object wrapped in parchment from his pocket, moving it carefully as if it were some dangerous item.

After tearing open the parchment, inside was a worn-out tin tea canister.

Charles quickly shoved the tin can into a Muggle's hand, and the tin can began to emit a dazzling blue light.

The instant the Portkey was activated, Dumbledore swiftly emerged from the shadows, gently placing a hand on the shoulder of the outermost Muggle.

The hook pulled hard behind his navel, and a dizzying sensation swept over him. Dumbledore felt his long beard and hair dancing wildly in the wind.

When his feet touched the ground again, Dumbledore suddenly became as agile as a young man. He quickly released his hands from the Muggle and dodged to the side. His wand was already in his hand, and he warily scanned his surroundings.

He immediately sensed the abnormality of this space; a strange sense of constraint enveloped him. Apparition was forbidden in this place, and even Fox's teleportation ability might be restricted.

The stifling air in the dungeon had vanished. Dumbledore found himself breathing fresh, salty air, like a sea breeze, yet with a hint of decay.

The surrounding air was silent and cold, with only the occasional groans of the Muggles echoing between the rock walls.

He stood on the shore of a black lake, its surface so vast that its boundaries were invisible. Looking up, the towering cave ceiling was hidden in the darkness.

Far away, seemingly in the center of a lake, a hazy, emerald-green light shimmered, reflected in the still water below. Apart from that green light and a ball of orange light floating towards him, all around was an impenetrable darkness.

As they drew closer, Dumbledore could see that it was the glow of a wand in the hand of a pale-faced wizard. The wizard was thin, his robes tattered, and he was trembling as he approached the rock wall, dragging the unconscious Muggle toward the lake.

Dumbledore held his breath. He saw the wizard drag the Muggle to the water's edge, then pull a silver dagger engraved with runes from his pocket. The blade gleamed ominously in the green light.

"The corpse... needs more blood..." the wizard murmured to himself, "The master needs more guardians..."

Just as he raised the knife, Dumbledore raised his wand behind him.

The silver knife and wand flew from the wizard's hand at the same time and landed in Dumbledore's hand.

The wizard turned around in astonishment, revealing a face so haggard it was unrecognizable, with deep-set, cloudy eyes filled with fear and confusion.

"Who..." he asked hoarsely, his voice filled with a certain expectation, "Did the master send you to replace me? I have... I have already completed thirty-seven."

“Perhaps it is you who should answer this question.” Dumbledore’s figure materialized from thin air.

“Professor Dumbledore!” A hint of surprise appeared in the wizard’s eyes. “Do you remember me? I am Sean Rivera, Ravenclaw.” His voice then turned somber. “No, you shouldn’t be here… No one can leave… No one…” He began to sob, blood seeping from his cracked lips.

“Sean,” Dumbledore remained vigilant, his wand still pointed at him, “what is the purpose of bringing these Muggles here and turning them into Inferi? What is your master planning?”

“It’s their honor.” Sean suddenly burst into hysterical laughter, pointing to the green light in the center of the lake. “Look, they’re all waiting for new life!”

Dumbledore looked in the direction he was pointing, and under the green light, it seemed as if white, eerie human figures were floating beneath the calm surface of the lake.

Just then, the outline of a dazzling white archway appeared on the dark cave wall.

Dumbledore turned around quickly.

The white light dissipated, revealing a doorway.

Voldemort's pale, snake-like face appeared in the darkness. He held a struggling, blood-dripping wizard in his hand, his red eyes coldly fixed on Dumbledore.

　Thanks to ft祥子, 猪也是飞, 云云海丶, 风起缥缈, and 夏目02 for the monthly tickets.

　　
　
(End of this chapter)