Hogwarts: I'm Harry's older cousin

Chapter 423, Question 417: Does it matter what the truth is?

"Dead? But we clearly saw it."

The Death Eater was only halfway through his sentence when he suddenly realized, "Could it be that the Fudge we're talking about now is a fake?"

"Fake? How is that possible?"

"Why pretend to be Fudge? What's so good about pretending to be a good-for-nothing?"

"."

The Death Eaters began arguing, but couldn't reach a conclusion for a long time, so Voldemort interrupted them.

"No, if it's Dumbledore's arrangement, then it's very likely."

"The goal, of course, is to control the Ministry of Magic."

Voldemort's face showed a relieved expression. If Fudge was a fake, then this made sense. He had been wondering what was wrong, as if he had forgotten something. Fudge was indeed killed by him. If Dumbledore was secretly manipulating everything, then it made much more sense.

Most of the doubts in my heart also dissipated.

That's definitely Dumbledore's style.

So it seems that "Fudge" must be one of Dumbledore's old friends, probably close to a hundred years old. I heard he also has a younger brother, I wonder if this Fudge is him.

It doesn't matter who it is, the only one I'm worried about is Dumbledore, because no one else can beat me.

"Ministry of Magic!!!"

The Death Eaters were even more shocked when they heard Voldemort's conclusion.

Is this really what the Dumbledore they envisioned would do?

Didn't they say he wasn't greedy for power?

Seeing the Death Eaters' expressions, Voldemort knew what they were thinking. He coldly snorted, "Who do you think Dumbledore is? The easy-going white-bearded old man the rumors say?"

"Is he still that crazy, deranged old man? All he does is spout nonsense?"

"Think about all the titles he has. Do you think it's just because he's highly respected? There are hundreds, if not thousands, of wizards in the magical world older than him. Do you think they're not as respected as Dumbledore?"

"No one knows him better than me. He is Dumbledore. In terms of killing, perhaps all of you combined could only match a fraction of his skill. In terms of dark magic, no one here can compare to him."

Voldemort wasn't sure if Dumbledore had committed murder, but he was certain that Dumbledore was no less capable than himself in dark magic.

"Hehehehe."

Voldemort grinned and let out a nasty laugh: "But this is good news, at least I know what he's planning."

"We'll leave here tomorrow."

Dolokhov quickly asked, "Master, where are we going? None of the other members' manors are as good as this one. The best one, Malfoy Manor, has already been seized by the Aurors."

He is currently in charge of the work that Lucius used to be in, so naturally he needs to find out.

"Fool Dolokhov, the master said to leave this place, this land," Bella mocked.

Seeing that Voldemort did not refute, Dolohoff quickly said, "You mean..."

Voldemort nodded and said, "Leave England. Lay low and strengthen our forces, waiting for the best opportunity."

His goal is to rule the entire wizarding world; there's no need for him to fight Dumbledore and his allies in England.

Since they want to control the English Ministry of Magic so badly, they might as well just give it to them. They only need to wait quietly for Dumbledore to die from the curse a year later, and then they can sound the horn of attack.

"Where should we go?"

This is a very important question for the Death Eaters; they can't just drift along like vagrants, going wherever the wind takes them.

Moreover, they can't just choose their destination randomly, running around aimlessly. They Death Eaters aren't like stray dogs on the roadside.

Another option is to establish a base camp.

Voldemort didn't answer, but looked at Barty Jr.: "My child, what do you think?"

After thinking for a moment, Little Barty replied, "Transylvania, the birthplace of vampires, is where many dark creatures like to dwell."

"I think we should go there."

Transylvania is a region in Romania with a high degree of autonomy. It is home to a large number of vampires, and has even developed a popular vacation package as part of the "horror tour"—a day trip to the vampire castle.

It has a Ministry of Magic, but its power is not as great as that of the Austrian Ministry of Magic.

The powerful Ministry of Magic causes too much trouble; small places like this are the easiest to control.

It couldn't be more suitable for the Death Eaters right now.

Voldemort nodded in satisfaction and said to the other Death Eaters, "Let's go to Transylvania."

He then instructed the others, "Remember to inform Lucius and the others; I don't want my servants to return and not find us."

With the leader's words, the subordinates quickly organized themselves and disappeared from the temporary manor early the next morning.

Soon, a group of black-robed wizards suddenly moved into a castle somewhere in Transylvania.

As the Harry Potter movies gained popularity, stories about them circulated among wizards, deepening their impression of Voldemort while diminishing their fear of him.

In a house somewhere in Germany, Karkaroff, who had been hiding ever since Voldemort showed himself, paced back and forth inside.

"I trusted you so much, and you deceived me! That man wasn't some power-stealing thief at all; he was the real Dark Lord."

With Voldemort appearing one after another, even Karkaroff, who was slow to react, was almost ready to catch on.

You can't possibly mistake the person you fear the most.

"Oh my God, what have I done?! I betrayed him! I led many others to betray him! I'm going to die, he'll kill me!"

Karkaroff's eyes widened, and he covered his mouth, as if he could see himself dying from the Killing Curse in the next second.

The more he thought about it, the more frightened he became, and his body trembled like a leaf.

"It's all your fault!"

Karkarov glared at the young, burly man sitting in a chair drinking coffee in front of him.

"I don't really like the pure bitterness of Italian coffee, nor do I like the taste of Americano coffee rinds, but it tastes better with some milk."

Dudley calmly commented on the taste of the coffee in his cup, ignoring Karkaroff's grumbling.

"You're still making sarcastic remarks? I...I..."

Dali stood up and approached Karkaroff. Feeling the other's terrifying aura, Karkaroff's voice grew softer and softer until he finally fell silent.

"Have you calmed down now, Professor Karkaroff?"

That's what Dali said.

Karkaroff's prized curses couldn't even make Dudley sneeze.

The difference between the two is greater than the difference between a human and a pig.

Seeing that Karkaroff had backed down and remained silent, Dali sat back down in his original seat. He tapped the table with his knuckles for a while before slowly speaking.

"Professor Karkaroff, do you think the truth is important?"

(End of this chapter)