A Certain Magical Hogwarts

Chapter 836 Voldemort's Wrath

The foyer was large, dimly lit, and luxuriously furnished, with an opulent carpet covering almost the entire stone floor.

A roaring fire burned in the marble fireplace, its light illuminating the room, and above the fireplace was a skull.

Those two empty eye sockets were aimed at an elaborately decorated long table, around which sat a group of Death Eaters.

A black-robed wizard sat in the highest position:

He had no hair, like a snake, two thin nostrils, and a pair of bright red eyes with vertical pupils.

His skin was very pale, seemingly emitting a delicate luster like pearl powder, green jade soup.

Voldemort rested his chin on his left hand, seemingly dozing off, or perhaps listening to a Death Eater's report.

The right hand, now charred black, was placed under the table, lightly stroking... the head of the enormous, serpentine snake.

The three snake heads floated on the Dark Lord's knees, rubbing against each other as if they were in heat.

Most people around the table had their eyes on the speaker.

Yaxley's face was full of fleshy muscles, and his expression was gloomy and slightly cruel, which clashed with the gorgeous silver-threaded robe he wore.

"The leader of the Dementors wants a country where they can reproduce freely."

If they agreed, they were willing to submit and release the Death Eaters from Azkaban.

For a moment no one spoke, but Voldemort opened his eyes and said lazily:

"When will they release my loyal servants?"

"The earliest it will be is next March," Yaxley said humbly.

"Recently, the Auror Office of the Ministry of Magic has been conducting inspections, I don't know what they've heard, and they won't be doing that for a while..."

Voldemort squinted and said:

"I've heard that Clegane, the incoming French Minister of Magic, is getting very close to Stark..."

Everyone was baffled, wondering why the Dark Lord had suddenly brought this up.

Voldemort stroked the head of the Neanderthal and said, "I don't like this country. Tell the Dementors that if they submit to the Dark Lord, I can let them breed in France."

The Death Eaters all had different expressions.

We haven't even ruled Britain yet, and we're already making grand promises about France?

Although France surrendered to Germany in just 43 days during World War II, this was partly due to the presence of the first Dark Lord, Grindelwald.

Well, the master clearly thinks that since they are both Dark Lords... Grindelwald could destroy France in 43 days, so he can do it in even less time!

These days, anyone can throw around some kind of flirting.

Ignoring the expressions on everyone's faces, Voldemort continued in a low voice:

"I can give France to the Dementors, but there's one condition: I want those servants imprisoned in Azkaban... to be by my side this Christmas."

Instead of waiting until next March, understand?!

Yaxley paused for a moment, then nodded. Could he really say he didn't understand?

Voldemort smiled with satisfaction, then looked at Malfoy and Avery.

"Where is what I asked for?"

"I have already used the Imperius Curse to subdue Broderick Bode of the Department of Mysteries, Master!" Malfoy said hastily.

"This time it will definitely be foolproof!" Avery agreed.

"Ha~ Absolutely foolproof?" Voldemort laughed, his red eyes fixed on the two of them, his gaze sharp as ever.

The people nearby quickly looked away, seemingly worried that the fierce gaze would burn them.

"Your last control of Stogwie Podmore of the Order of the Phoenix also claimed that everything was foolproof."

But he was captured by the Ministry of Magic and sent to Azkaban.

Voldemort stood up and walked barefoot toward the two men.

He bent down slightly, placing his hands on their shoulders, his voice low and hoarse:

"If we fail again this time and don't get what I want, I won't hesitate to send you all to Azkaban as well."

Malfoy and Avery both shuddered.

Malfoy even swallowed hard, glancing out of the corner of his eye at the charred hand on his shoulder.

It seems that, as Stark said, the Dark Lord is indeed deeply poisoned.

He remembered the diary and trembled even more violently.

Avery hesitated for a moment, then said, "Master, Arthur Weasley is always watching me when I go to the Ministry of Magic. I'm afraid he'll notice something."

"Weasley... that pure-blood traitor?" Voldemort wasn't particularly concerned. "The Order of the Phoenix hasn't noticed yet."

Snape was his spy, but he didn't mention that Dumbledore had noticed and that he wanted to predict the ball.

"However, it is indeed a hidden danger..." the Dark Lord said coldly, "This pure-blooded traitor should be taught a lesson in blood."

Make him understand that pure-blood families should never betray their class!

Voldemort whispered:

"This Christmas, I'll attack the Weasleys to distract the Order of the Phoenix."

He gently patted their shoulders.

"So you absolutely must get that thing; don't let me down again!"

Malfoy secretly lamented that since his master had personally intervened, Arthur was likely doomed.

Voldemort circled around again, taking small, unhurried steps, and headed towards another Death Eater.

"What about Rita Skeeter? Did you catch her? Wormtail?"

"Not yet, Master," Peter Pettigrew stammered, his voice trembling with sobs.

"Stark hid her... very well. None of her reports were submitted to the Daily Prophet by herself... I... I..."

Voldemort revealed a terrifying smile, his red eyes becoming empty and cold.

He finally lost all patience and raised his wand.

"Extremely painful!"

The insect's tail writhed in agony, and it screamed in pain. The others remained still, watching silently.

No wonder the Dark Lord was so angry.

A general meeting of Death Eaters was held in July to formulate short-term plans and policies.

It's been half a year now, and not a single one has come true!

Grey Rozier, who was sent to Austria to find Grindelwald, was captured by the Starks and sent to the Austrian Ministry of Magic.

The attempt to recruit servants for the giants in the Alps also ended in failure.

The prediction ball made absolutely no progress;

The Carlo siblings, who went to kill Karkaroff, have also disappeared without a trace...

Now, he can't even find a junior reporter. What use is this bunch of useless people to him?!

He even wanted to throw all of these people into the sea to feed the vipers!

Voldemort tormented Wormtail for more than ten minutes before his anger subsided.

"Indeed, if Stark wanted to hide someone, he would have done so very well. But that's not an excuse; I only care about the results!"

He extended a thin, pale finger, its icy tip touching the bald head of the insect's tail.

"That woman has had a huge impact on our career... She's still reporting on us, almost exposing us."

"Wormtail, I don't care what you do, you must catch her and cut off her head by Christmas, and send it to Stark's bed."

This is my Christmas present to him.

Do you understand?

The insect's tail trembled more and more; finding Rita wouldn't be easy... and he'd have to cut off her head and send it to Stark's bed?

You're treating me like your godfather?!

Voldemort circled around once, then sat back down in his original spot.

"This Christmas, I will temporarily leave England... to create a giant army of undead."

I will also personally go to Durmstrang and bring back Karkarov's head. I hope that when I return...

His red eyes swept around coldly.

"I'm so happy to hear good news from you all!"

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(End of this chapter)