Inside a luxurious mansion nestled in a quiet French town, a bald, rosy-cheeked man in a bathrobe lay sprawled on a sofa. He cradled a bowl of snacks, his feet propped up on the table, utterly absorbed in the television. Oddly, he wasn't watching a sappy romance; a horror movie played out on the screen.
Bang!
The door was kicked open.
The man, the self-proclaimed master of electrical sockets, glanced up. Hmm, nothing. Looking down again, he saw Lanlock.
The remnant soul scowled. "Could you not barge in like that? Don't think our partnership will save you from a Cruciatus Curse!"
"..."
Lanlock, clad in mithril armor, looked equally grim. "Is this what you're doing? You're watching Muggle nonsense at a time like this?"
At Lanlock's words, the remnant soul bristled. "I've been working my tail off for centuries! What's wrong with a little relaxation?"
"He's here! That other one, you know, he's come too!"
Lanlock paced back and forth, agitated. "The opera house plan failed. What if he finds us? What if he comes looking..."
Seeing Lanlock's panic, the remnant soul's expression darkened. He set down the snack bowl, his face contorting with unease.
"Seriously? Tom Riddle is really on our tail!"
The remnant soul's hands dangled uselessly at his sides; he was utterly numb. After countless encounters, he had no desire for a head-on fight this time. If push came to shove, he'd find another target, just as he'd done before.
"Don't get too worked up."
Lanlock had managed to regain some composure, letting out a long sigh. "The goblins we sent out don't know our location. We should be safe for now."
"How about we just pick another target?"
The remnant soul sprawled further onto the sofa, half-resigned. "We probably won't get the Veela anyway, so let's pursue a Quidditch team. There are plenty of those, right?"
"This one is alone. It'll be easier."
Lanlock retorted, his tone sharp.
The remnant soul gave him a dubious look. Is he really sure this one is easier? Easy for someone who hasn't been hunted by Tom Riddle before to say.
"Then you go catch him."
"..."
The remnant soul's reply left Lanlock speechless. If he were capable, why would he bother arguing?
Without the remnant soul, he wasn't even certain he could escape. After all, the remnant soul had evaded Tom so many times; Lanlock held his partner's escape artistry in high regard.
Therefore, Lanlock was resolute in his refusal to go alone. He needed to trick the remnant soul into joining him.
"Are you scared?"
Lanlock asked suddenly, deliberately adopting a taunting tone.
"..."
The remnant soul remained silent, but the palpable tension in the air made it clear he was furious.
Of course, he was angry at Lanlock. He was scared, but how dare Lanlock say it to his face?
A bolt of crimson light flashed.
"Ah—!"
Lanlock clutched at his chest, writhing on the ground in agony.
The remnant soul slowly lowered his wand, his eyes glinting with a savage light as he glared at Lanlock.
Lanlock gritted his teeth, returning the glare. "Yeah, that's right! That's how the Dark Lord makes you feel! Tell me! Are you really afraid of him?!"
"..."
He was still afraid.
But the atmosphere had grown too heated now. Wouldn't it be strange to back down without saying something provocative?
The remnant soul grinned, his white teeth flashing coldly. "Afraid? How could I be afraid? Who do you think I am?!"
Anyway, if he couldn't win, he could run; if he couldn't run, he could hide. It could only be said that ever since he'd gained the ability to transform into a mouse, the remnant soul had grown far more resilient.
Lanlock struggled to his feet, forcing a perfunctory expression to fit the situation. "Let's go! Let's capture that damned Veela! No one can stop us!"
"..."
The soul-devouring remnant soul, oblivious to the trap, only felt he'd gone too far and was now stuck in a corner. "Ahem... this requires further consideration."
Lanlock wasn't surprised. He didn't want to humiliate the remnant soul further; after all, pushing him too hard might drive him to the brink.
"Let's have those sprites test the waters first, then we can see how things go."
Lanlock walked to the remnant soul's side. "So, what do we do now?"
The remnant soul looked at him in silence.
Then...
"Hey! How did Muggles invent these little gadgets? They're actually quite captivating!"
Lanlock, mimicking the remnant soul, lay down on the sofa and joined him in watching the horror movie.
"How would I know?"
The remnant soul rolled his eyes awkwardly. "I only just discovered things like this myself."
"You only just discovered it too?"
Lanlock was somewhat surprised. "Didn't you used to live in a Muggle orphanage?"
"That was centuries ago!"
The remnant soul waved his hand dismissively. "Orphanages didn't have televisions back then."
"Yeah... wait, is this kid an idiot? How could he possibly hide there!"
"I've been annoyed with him for a while now! He's such a coward; it's just a ghost! Just fight back!"
...
Meanwhile, elsewhere.
The group that had departed from the opera house wandered aimlessly through the streets of Paris.
This left Leonie Delacour speechless. Why did they have to tag along?
But she was powerless; both her granddaughters, one grown and one small, had insisted on joining.
"Tom, where are you planning to go next?"
Fleur Delacour attempted to strike up a conversation.
Cassandra Volle chimed in, "I don't know. Tom just suddenly called us here; we hadn't planned our itinerary beforehand."
"Blame that old man Dumbledore for interfering."
Tom paused for a moment, then said, "But we're mainly here to enjoy ourselves, aren't we? We'll probably stay for a few days, perhaps taking care of some matters while we're at it."
Hearing this, Fleur Delacour, seemingly lost in thought, nodded slightly, then casually inquired, "Professor, do you have a place to stay?"
Tom didn't answer but looked at Snape. "Severus?"
Snape shook his head almost imperceptibly.
"That stingy old codger."
Tom pursed his lips unhappily, then answered Fleur Delacour's question, "No."
Fleur Delacour's eyes lit up, but Gabrielle Delacour interjected, suggesting, "Then Brother Tom can come to our house! Gabrielle's house is very big; Brother Tom can stay with us!"
"..."
? ??? My dear granddaughter, are you serious?
Leonie Delacour was once again taken aback by her granddaughter's words.
Tom seemed to notice her expression and, with a mischievous grin, deliberately asked her, "Would that be a bother?"
"No! No, how could it be? Uh hehe..."
Leonie Delacour quickly waved her hands in denial, but her smile appeared a little strained.
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