— — — — — —
"Master, congratulations."
Bellatrix spoke with genuine admiration. "Rising from the dead… not once, not twice, but again and again. Who else in this world could wield such power except you?"
She meant it as praise. Yet Voldemort didn't look pleased.
The faint, indifferent smile that had just appeared on his face vanished instantly. And the air around him seemed to turn several degrees colder.
'Again and again?'
'You stupid woman… are you implying I keep failing?'
Bellatrix, however, noticed none of the growing chill surrounding him. She was still basking in the joy of her master's return.
For a subordinate who was both loyal and hopelessly dim, Voldemort truly had little he could do. At the moment, Bellatrix was the only one he could really use. Lockhart counted for half a person at best, useful only when it came to gathering information.
With a cold snort, Voldemort dropped the subject. "Where is Lockhart?"
"He's outside. I'll call him in."
Bellatrix hurried out of the serpent's cavern and soon returned with Lockhart in tow.
The moment Lockhart stepped inside, he felt the temperature drop sharply. A biting chill washed over him. Instinctively, he looked up.
And met Voldemort's eyes.
Those red pupils were cold and lifeless.
In an instant, Lockhart felt his hands and feet turn icy. A chill crawled up his spine as if his blood had frozen solid. It felt like Death itself was staring at him. His body trembled uncontrollably.
He hurriedly lowered his head, forcing himself to speak. "M... Master."
Even so, the utter indifference toward life in those eyes burned itself into his mind like a brand. He knew he would never forget them.
"What have Dumbledore and Tom Riddle been doing lately?" Voldemort asked coldly. "Tell me everything you've found."
Lockhart's heart skipped a beat.
Recent events were… not exactly good news from Voldemort's perspective.
But he didn't dare lie. Not in front of Voldemort.
So he reported everything honestly.
As he spoke, Voldemort's expression slowly shifted from cold and grim to something far more complicated.
He hadn't expected the wizarding world to become so… lively while he had been busy resurrecting himself.
"Look at me."
Voldemort's voice snapped like a whip.
Lockhart nervously raised his head.
Voldemort immediately cast Legilimency, rummaging through his thoughts without restraint. After confirming that Lockhart's report contained no lies or embellishments, he finally believed what he'd heard.
"Is this really Dumbledore?"
He had actually fallen out with the Ministry… even driven the leader of the International Confederation of Wizards to his death.
Back in the day, even Voldemort hadn't achieved results quite that impressive.
"So which one of us is the Dark Lord here?"
And then there was that mysterious Quetzalcoatl… along with the unknown creature powerful enough to rip it apart in a single blow. And that thing was apparently Riddle's pet.
A storm churned in Voldemort's mind.
The world had changed far more than he realized.
Once, he had only one true opponent: Albus Dumbledore.
Now?
Threats could come not just from wizards… but from bizarre magical beasts as well.
"Master, what should we do now?" Bellatrix jumped in again, completely oblivious to his mood.
Voldemort's face darkened as he walked deeper into the cavern.
"I've only just been resurrected. My body still needs time to recover. Continue gathering information."
He needed time to think.
Time to figure out how to take revenge… and how to become stronger.
— — —
Hogwarts—
After finishing the prophecy, Trelawney's head drooped onto her chest.
She had fallen asleep.
Dumbledore shot McGonagall a meaningful glance, silently urging her to remove the woman before things got more awkward.
McGonagall understood at once. With a gentle flick of her wand, she levitated Trelawney and the chair she was sitting on and quietly guided them out of the Great Hall.
Once the two of them disappeared, Dumbledore turned to the stunned students and the bewildered visiting headmasters and smiled.
"Professor Trelawney possesses a rather… unique inner eye," he explained calmly. "She sometimes sees things ordinary people cannot. As for what she says… well, it can be difficult to interpret."
He paused thoughtfully.
"My guess is… Hogwarts may soon be facing another bout of the flu."
Hearing that, several students couldn't hold back their laughter.
The tense, heavy atmosphere that had filled the hall moments earlier evaporated instantly.
After all, Trelawney made the same prediction every year around this time: that a wave of illness was coming.
But honestly, no one needed a prophecy to know that when the weather kept swinging between hot and cold, flu season wasn't far behind.
Thinking of her usual eccentric behavior, most people quickly dismissed the eerie prophecy and returned to chatting among themselves.
But those who truly understood Trelawney's abilities reacted very differently.
Snape pressed his lips together, his face dark as a storm cloud while he replayed the prophecy over and over in his mind.
Grindelwald looked thoughtful. Every so often, a glimmer of light flickered in his mismatched eyes.
As for Dumbledore…
Outwardly, he remained perfectly calm.
Inside, however, his thoughts were far from peaceful.
At this moment, he had only one opinion about Voldemort.
Utterly annoying.
The man refused to stay dead, yet never properly lived either. Always lurking in the shadows, ready to jump out and cause trouble at any moment.
And if Trelawney's prophecy was right…
The next disaster might shake the entire wizarding world.
Couldn't you just be a good Riddle for once?
The increasingly irritable Dumbledore briefly entertained the idea of hunting Voldemort down immediately, tracking down every last Horcrux, and burning the lot of them to ashes with Fiendfyre.
Unfortunately, while Trelawney's prophecies were almost always accurate, they were rarely specific. They foretold events that were practically destined to happen, but gave little useful detail.
Which meant he had no clear place to start.
Whoosh!
Just then, the flames in the Goblet suddenly surged higher, turning a brilliant red as sparks flew into the air. A thick tongue of fire shot upward, and from it burst a charred scrap of parchment.
Dumbledore snapped out of his thoughts and caught it neatly. He glanced down and quickly read the name.
"The champion of Beauxbatons," he announced in a clear, steady voice, "Fleur Delacour!"
Thunderous applause erupted across the Great Hall.
Fleur gently hugged Gabrielle, who was sitting beside her and clapping excitedly, before rising gracefully to her feet. Her shining silvery-blonde hair swayed as she moved, the hem of her skirt lifting lightly as she walked toward the front.
When she passed Tom's seat, she deliberately paused, leaned down, and planted a warm kiss on him.
Daphne immediately puffed up like an angry little bun, clutching Tom's arm tightly in protest.
Fleur continued forward, embracing Madame Maxime, who had already risen from the staff table. After a few quiet words, she was guided into the small room on the right to wait for the remaining champions.
Once the first champion had been chosen, the Goblet of Fire seemed to pick up the pace.
Fleur had barely closed the door behind her when the Goblet spat out another slip of parchment.
"The champion from Uagadou… Nassim Adeyemi!"
Cheers erupted from the two long tables belonging to Uagadou. A boy with dark skin waved to his classmates before jogging to the front. Headmaster Okoye clapped him on the shoulder and sent him toward the waiting room.
"The champion from Ilvermorny… Daniel Jauncey!"
A tall blond boy rose from his seat, basking in the applause from the Ilvermorny students.
Tom had heard Cassandra mention him before. Jauncey was technically a transfer student. He'd only enrolled earlier this year after spending most of his life being privately tutored at home.
The Jauncey surname belonged to one of the Twelve Sacred Families of the American wizarding world, descended from the original Aurors who founded the Magical Congress.
"The champion from Castelobruxo… Quinta Sanchez!"
A girl with wheat-colored skin stood up. Quite a few boys were already whispering that her legs looked longer than their lifespans. Honestly, she looked less like a witch and more like a track athlete from the Muggle world.
The Castelobruxo students showed no surprise at the result. The other applicants didn't seem disappointed either.
"The champion from Mahoutokoro…" Dumbledore continued, reading from the parchment. "Hozumi Kamio!"
Hozumi rose with a bright smile, her eyes curving into crescents. She bowed politely to the people around her, every gesture graceful and charming.
But the moment her gaze drifted across the hall and landed on Tom… and she saw him smiling at her…
Her expression froze.
Her legs nearly gave out.
Ever since that night, Tom had "ganked" her twice more. Each time he'd left her completely drained, like a puddle of melted clay. Even the worst playboys usually offered a few sweet words afterward.
Tom, on the other hand, just walked away once he was satisfied.
That man…
He was basically a devil.
No. Once the selection was over, she had to confront him. If this continued, she wouldn't even make it to the duel Championship. Forget competing, she'd be lucky if she didn't collapse from dehydration first.
Carefully avoiding Tom's direction, Kamio hurried toward the staff table. She didn't even greet her own headmaster, Akihiko Kamiya, before absentmindedly slipping into the waiting room.
The awkward moment left Kamiya's smile frozen in place as he slowly lowered the hand he'd raised to wave.
"The champion from Durmstrang…"
The Goblet spat out another parchment.
The moment Dumbledore read the name, a radiant smile spread across his face.
"Ariana Dumbledore!"
There was no surprise in the announcement. After all, Ariana had been the only Durmstrang student to enter her name.
Even so, the Durmstrang students erupted into applause like a pack of lunatics, clapping so loudly it nearly lifted the roof off the Great Hall.
Ariana's expression didn't change at all as she rose from the Gryffindor table.
Grindelwald had just begun to stand and offer congratulations when Dumbledore firmly pushed him back into his seat and hurried forward himself.
"Congratulations, Ariana."
"Brother, wasn't that obvious?" The girl tilted her head cutely. "Getting selected was a given. I'm here to win the championship."
"I believe you." Dumbledore nodded repeatedly, his tone warm with affection. "Go wait in the room for now. Once the final champion is chosen, I'll come find you."
He personally escorted her all the way to the door, almost hovering at her side before seeing her safely into the room.
Watching this scene unfold, the Hogwarts students exchanged uneasy glances.
A troubling thought suddenly crept into their minds.
Their headmaster…
He hadn't switched sides, had he?
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