"Is he really resurrected?"
Out of the blue, Karkaroff suddenly spoke up and asked.
"Who? Voldemort?" Harry said leisurely. "He never died; he just temporarily lost his power over the past dozen years or so. If you're asking whether Voldemort has returned to the wizarding world now, then my answer is—yes, he's resurrected."
Karkaroff's face instantly turned ashen white. He looked as if he might jump up from the table and flee at any moment, only forcibly reminding himself after glancing at his surroundings that he was in France, not Britain.
"All right," Karkaroff finally said dryly. "All right, resurrected... All right."
From this reaction alone, Harry knew that what Scrimgeour had said earlier about Karkaroff being a former Death Eater—who had escaped trial by ratting out others—was undoubtedly true. Because if Voldemort had truly returned, the first people he'd deal with wouldn't even be those who had bravely resisted him back then, but those who had betrayed him the moment he fell.
"Let me say it again, Headmaster Karkaroff. We're here to discuss the Triwizard Tournament," Fernando emphasized with some impatience, then turned to Scrimgeour and said, "In fact, the French Ministry of Magic is quite willing to start making contact with Muggles. My people are fed up with the endless memory wipes and cover-ups to hide the existence of the wizarding world."
"In fact, if it weren't for Minister Fernando's high prestige, there would probably already be wizards striking by now," Madame Maxime explained helpfully.
"And it couldn't have happened without your help, Madame. You did persuade many people for me," Fernando said with a bitter smile. "Anyway, overall, the French Ministry agrees with your plan, Headmaster Potter, but the specifics need to be discussed—why must it be held at Hogwarts? We could host this Triwizard Tournament at Beauxbatons instead."
"No! Absolutely not!" The vehement protest didn't even come from Harry, but from Scrimgeour. His school loyalty was barely contained in the face of the French. "The Triwizard Tournament hasn't been held for centuries. If it's to be revived now, it has to start again from Hogwarts."
"But Britain's current environment is extremely chaotic. That man who terrifies all British wizards—is it Voldemort? Hasn't this dark wizard resurrected? Can you really guarantee the safety of everyone coming to participate in the tournament?"
"Why not? Could French wizards guarantee safety? What would you do if problems arise? Strike?"
"Watch your words, Minister Scrimgeour!"
"I know exactly what I'm saying. Hogwarts is the oldest school of magic in Europe and the original host of the Triwizard Tournament. Do you understand the unique significance of that?"
"Yes, but according to the information I've received, is Hogwarts really safe? Two years ago, a Death Eater became a professor, and last year demons destroyed half the castle. I can't imagine the consequences if something like that happens again while Muggles are watching the competition!"
"Those were demons from outside the world trying to invade ours! Hogwarts' professors and the British Ministry of Magic bravely protected our world—and yours! Frenchmen!"
"Who knows where those demons came from? All this information is just what you British put out yourselves."
"The British wizarding world now has not only Dumbledore but also Harry Potter! Headmaster Potter's power is enough to protect Hogwarts!"
"..."
It was hard to imagine such an argument happening between the magic ministers of two countries, but Scrimgeour truly looked ready to come to blows with Fernando at any moment.
From quarreling over the venue for the new Triwizard Tournament to the inherent flaws of British and French wizards, Scrimgeour, as the new minister, urgently needed a convincing political achievement to prove his capability and secure his position in the upcoming elections. Personally leading the revival of the Triwizard Tournament and the first formal contact between wizards and Muggles was weighty enough, so he couldn't give it up.
Clearly, Fernando had similar intentions, so the two ended up arguing like this.
On the other side, the three headmasters gradually joined the fray. Karkaroff didn't demand like the two ministers to hold the tournament at Durmstrang; rather, he seemed somewhat distracted, head lowered, lost in thought.
"All right, in that case... we probably need to discuss the changes to the tournament events you mentioned in your letter," Madame Maxime said, turning her head after glancing at the battlefield on the other side. "According to your plan, Headmaster Potter, doesn't that mean professors would become champions too? How many champions would the Goblet of Fire need to select?"
"Yes, professors need to become champions as well," Harry nodded slightly. "After all, students are just students. Limited by their age, their magical levels probably can't provide enough impact for the Muggles expected to attend. That's when professors need to step in—we have to showcase the diversity of magic as much as possible."
"Oh, limited by age?" Madame Maxime said with a smile. "It's quite something to hear you say that, since your existence is the best counterexample... Then we'll probably need to add more difficulty to the events between professors."
"..."
Though Madame Maxime also wanted the Triwizard Tournament held at Beauxbatons, as an elegant lady—a mature one with considerable prestige—she naturally couldn't bring herself to argue with Harry, so the pressure fell entirely on Fernando and Scrimgeour.
At least compared to the two magic ministers on the verge of fighting over there, the discussion of event details among the three headmasters was quite harmonious. Karkaroff had lost his initial impatience, merely chiming in occasionally.
Clearly, Karkaroff didn't care what Durmstrang gained from this tournament; what mattered more was his own affairs.
"Headmaster Potter," as if finally returning to reality, Karkaroff suddenly said, "Is Dumbledore still at Hogwarts?"
"No," Harry said, somewhat surprised. "Dumbledore has his own matters to attend to. If you have something to say, feel free to speak directly, Headmaster Karkaroff."
"I—I—I hope the tournament can be held as soon as possible," Karkaroff stammered for a long while before saying in a low voice. "I agree to holding the Triwizard Tournament at Hogwarts, but on the condition that I bring Durmstrang's students to Hogwarts early... As headmaster, you must ensure the students' safety. At least don't let the Dark Lord—I mean, you need to bring Dumbledore back. Only then will the wizarding world recognize the tournament's safety."
"The students' safety..." Harry looked deeply at Karkaroff.
He figured the man was simply coming to Hogwarts for protection.
After many years, Harry once again arrived at his most loyal Azkaban.
But this time, he wasn't accompanied only by Lucius Malfoy; there were also the Longbottom couple and Neville.
"I-Is this really okay?" Alice Longbottom stared in stunned amazement at the distant Azkaban fortress, where Dementors occasionally glided through the towers. "We're just... at Azkaban? I mean—this isn't illegal entry, is it?"
"You're right, this isn't something normal wizards should do, Harry," Frank Longbottom said with a wry smile on the other side. "I have to say, compared to Dumbledore, your style is indeed much more... unexpected."
"I promised Neville he'd get to take revenge with his own hands," Harry said quite casually. "That's why I spared Bellatrix Lestrange's life back then... Though the situation now isn't quite what I envisioned, it's a good thing you two can take revenge personally too."
"I-I never imagined I'd get to go into Azkaban specifically to... kill someone," Frank's expression grew complicated for a moment. "What about the Ministry's opinion?"
"Scrimgeour's thinking is actually similar to mine. He's not too keen on letting these Death Eaters keep living now that Voldemort's resurrected," Harry said briefly. "Whatever Voldemort plans to do, he'll need help from these Death Eaters. What we're doing now is taking out his helpers in advance—at least so he can't emerge with a bunch of them and start causing destruction right away."
Harry didn't know how long it would take for a fel-tainted imp like Voldemort to resurrect from the Twisting Nether and find his way back to this world, but he had no desire to see Voldemort turn all his loyal Death Eaters into demons too—maybe not strong, but truly disgusting.
Better to kill them off early.
Scrimgeour not only had no objections but thoughtfully withdrew the Aurors from the island in advance. This new minister, who had risen from the ranks, harbored deep malice toward these heinous criminals. He hadn't killed them before not because he didn't want to, but because Fudge wouldn't allow it.
After all, Death Eaters were at least pure-blood nobility, and pure-blood nobles were all somewhat related. The pure-bloods outside didn't want to see those noble bloodlines cut off one after another, so Fudge naturally wouldn't offend his financiers and supporters.
But now things were different.
"This way. The Dementors have been driven off in advance; this path is safe now," Lucius led the way at the front. Frank and Alice following behind looked at his back with somewhat strange expressions.
As people quite familiar with the Malfoy family, they couldn't quite understand why Lucius Malfoy had defected to Harry—not just a simple gesture of goodwill, but firmly standing on this side, striking down his former colleagues without mercy.
It didn't take long for the group to reach the deepest part of Azkaban.
"Just as I once told you, Bellatrix Lestrange," Harry said calmly, gazing at the witch in the cell whose one arm hung limply, staring at him with venomous eyes. "The people here to avenge themselves on you have arrived."
"Harry Potter..."
Hoarsely uttering Harry's name, Bellatrix clutched her severed arm. Without timely and proper treatment, it was completely crippled.
"Ha! Let me see who's this?" After shifting her gaze from Harry, Bellatrix spotted the Longbottom family. "Isn't this dear Frank, and you, Alice... Did you enjoy my hospitality?"
As if recalling some fond memory, Bellatrix excitedly licked her lips.
"You know, in the decade-plus I've been locked up here, your screams have always been a delicacy I could never forget—especially yours, Alice." Bellatrix suddenly pinched her throat and shrieked, "Neville! Please! Don't let Neville!!"
She was mimicking Alice's words from back then, then fixed her gaze on the slightly plump young boy who was currently being held by his father's shoulders, trembling all over, face flushed red.
"So, you're Neville, right?" Bellatrix smiled maliciously. "It's me. Have you forgotten? Didn't you see everything? Why do I only see unfamiliar hatred in your eyes? Who took your memories?"
"That won't do—that won't do! Child!" Bellatrix suddenly grew fanatical. "That was my masterpiece, bit by bit, bit by bit torturing your parents to madness—their screams were simply supreme delight!"
"Densaugeo!!"
Suddenly drawing his wand, Neville roared out what was arguably the most malicious spell he knew.
Bellatrix was indeed hit by the spell; her front teeth began to grow wildly, but what grew even louder was her laughter.
"Den-Densaugeo?!" Bellatrix cackled madly.
"You're using that spell against a Death Eater?! Haha, hahahahahaha!"
Even with her voice distorted by the overgrown teeth, Bellatrix's mocking intent came through clearly, making Neville's face turn even redder.
"Earth elemental! Please help me—"
"Avada Kedavra!"
As Neville began chanting a shaman's incantation, a green light shot from Alice's wand, striking Bellatrix directly.
And so the frenzied laughter abruptly stopped. Bellatrix futilely raised her arm, but her body slumped heavily backward onto the ground.
Dead.
"Sorry, Bella," Alice said calmly. "I don't share your hobby of torturing people."
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