A magical journey that begins at Hogwarts

Chapter 404 The Truth Thirteen Years Ago, Dumbledore's Protection

"Get up, Lucius," Voldemort said expressionlessly. "I'll spare you the blame for now, since you've been somewhat loyal. I hope you'll continue to serve me well in the future."

“Of course, Master, thank you for your magnanimity,” Lucius said.

Voldemort looked at the others and said coldly, "Thirteen years, a long thirteen years."

"I will only forgive you after you have paid back thirteen years of debt."

“Master,” Peter Pettigrew weakly raised his left hand, “I’m back.”

"You did pay off some debts," Voldemort said indifferently, "but not out of loyalty, but out of fear. You were afraid your old friends would come after you."

Little Pettigrew shrank back, trembling as he covered his right hand in fear.

"However, you have still been of some use, especially in the last few months, Wormtail."

Voldemort will not let down those who have helped him. Voldemort ran his wand across Peter Pettigrew's severed hand, and a shimmering silver hand seamlessly joined his arm.

Little Pettigrew no longer felt pain. He tried to grasp the silver hand, and the feeling of being connected by blood made his breathing a little heavier. "Master, thank you, Master."

"I hope you will not waver in your loyalty to me, Wormtail."

"No, Master, absolutely not."

“The Lestranges should be here; they are loyal and would rather be imprisoned in Azkaban than betray me.”

When Azkaban falls, they will receive rewards they never dreamed of. Dementors are our natural allies. We will recall the banished giants, I will find all my loyal servants, and once again possess a retinue of fearsome magical creatures...

Lucius, I believe you'd still be willing to lead the torment of Muggles... McNeil, you're eliminating dangerous beasts for the Ministry of Magic, wouldn't there be something better for you to eliminate... Crabbe, Goyle...”

Voldemort, like a capitalist, painted a rosy picture for his Death Eaters, clearly defining the division of power and granting them the conditions they craved but could not currently fulfill.

However, the Death Eaters firmly believed this, because they had possessed similar power more than a decade ago.

Harry and his friends, however, felt their scalps tingle and their hearts pound with fear.

They were just a few years old when the Dark Lord's power spread throughout the magical world, and they knew nothing about it.

As I grew up, I had no interest in learning about it, nor did I have the opportunity to, because everyone around me was reluctant to discuss it.

“No wonder my father said it was the darkest hour in the wizarding world,” Cedric said despairingly. “But we may never see it.”

“It seems the magical world is about to descend into chaos again,” Aaron sighed. “But that has little to do with me. No matter how chaotic the world becomes, Gaius can remain unscathed.”

The four of them looked at Aaron, wondering where he got the confidence to say such a thing.

“There are still a few people who haven’t come here,” Voldemort shook his head. “Three died for me, one didn’t have the guts to come back and he will pay the price, and the other I think has left me forever and will be executed.”

But what comforts me is that my most loyal servant is still here, isn't Crouch?

The fake Moody walked proudly to the front of the crowd, and the effects of the compound decoction were just about to take effect.

His body began to change drastically. The scars on his face disappeared, his hair turned light yellow, his prosthetic leg was pushed out by his real leg, and a real eye replaced the ever-moving magic eyeball.

Barty Crouch Jr. appeared in everyone's sight, scanning the other Death Eaters with disdain and mockery in his eyes.

After all, his achievements speak for themselves; he was undoubtedly the greatest contributor to the Dark Lord's resurrection.

"At Hogwarts, my loyal servant, through his efforts, brought a young boy here." Voldemort looked at the bound Harry Potter and said with indifferent sarcasm, "Harry Potter, I heard his fame is as high as mine."

But what excited me even more was that he also brought another guest, Aaron Gaius.

"Hello." Aaron awkwardly raised his hand, then looked at Voldemort. "Can I untie those three? They shouldn't need to be wary of us now, right?"

"random."

"And our magic wands."

Voldemort gave Barty a wink, and the boy immediately returned the four wands to him.

Aaron untied the three men's ropes and handed them wands one by one.

"They just gave it back to us so easily?" Furong asked in disbelief.

“He was very weak just now, and the slightest accident could have interrupted his resurrection ritual. But now he can crush us like an ant, and there’s no need to be on guard,” Aaron said seriously. “The wand can only give you a little unrealistic sense of security, but our situation hasn’t changed at all.”

“What about Harry?” Cedric asked in a low voice.

"Brother, can't you be a little more perceptive?"

Do you think any of you can compare to Harry Potter?

Aaron was speechless. Voldemort was clearly using Harry Potter as a scapegoat to announce his return in a grand manner.

For a prisoner to ask someone to release his enemy is no different from courting death.

“You’re pragmatic, that’s what I admire most about you,” Voldemort praised. “If they made that request of me, I would kill them without hesitation.”

An ordinary Hufflepuff, Durmstrang's big oaf, and Beauxbatons' pretty face—they're worthless to me.

The three of them were furious upon hearing this, but they were speechless and didn't know what to say even if they had the courage to refute it.

They were merely the pride of the magic school, while their opponent was the infamous Dark Lord; they were simply not on the same level.

“The boy who survived,” Voldemort approached Harry Potter. “Your legend is built on lies. Do you want me to tell you the truth about that night thirteen years ago? Do you want me to tell you what made me lose my magic?”

"Do you want to say it?"

Voldemort turned to the group of Death Eaters, deciding to satisfy their curiosity and also to provide a reasonable explanation for his failure thirteen years ago.

"Because of love, when the lovely Lily Potter gave her life to save her only son and gave him the utmost protection."

That was an ancient form of magic, one I should have remembered, but foolishly ignored.

“The Bloodline Protection Charm,” Aaron murmured. “Harry is lucky. He was willing to give his life for his beloved blood relatives. This is one of the most touching forces in human history.”

“That’s right, that curse reflected my Death Curse back onto me, but… do you know why they’re called Death Eaters?” Voldemort asked meaningfully. “I’ve conquered death, and I’ve gone further down the path to immortality than anyone else.”

I only encountered a small test, and although it took a little longer, I passed it without a doubt.

Aaron: ......

This is the first time I've seen someone express their fear of death in such a refreshing and unconventional way.

"After thirteen years of barely surviving, when I had even given up on the idea that my loyal Death Eaters would come looking for me, Wormtail found me."

He needed a powerful backer because he was afraid his former friends would cause him trouble.

Fate was on Voldemort's side; he unexpectedly encountered a witch from the Ministry of Magic, Bertha Jorkins, and subdued her without warning.

We obtained very useful intelligence: news of the Triwizard Tournament and a loyal servant.

"Then you controlled Crouch, rescued Barty Crouch Jr., and then teamed up to subdue Alastor Moody, using his hair to continuously produce Polyjuice Potion, thus getting Barty Crouch Jr. into Hogwarts and casting his name into the Triwizard Tournament trophy," Aaron said thoughtfully. "As for the ultimate goal, it was probably Harry's blood!"

“This is an ancient dark magic,” Voldemort explained with a laugh. “The servant’s flesh is readily available, the father’s bones chose this place, the enemy’s blood… there are too many choices, but only Harry Potter’s blood is the most suitable, because it can break the spell his mother left on him.”

"There's a small problem. If you just want Harry's blood, is it really necessary to go to such lengths?" Aaron asked, puzzled. Harry Potter is the most troublesome person in all of Hogwarts, and he has been injured countless times over the years. Getting his blood doesn't seem like an easy task.

"Because he was so well protected, he didn't even know it himself."

Dumbledore made too many arrangements for him; that Muggle family was a torment for him, but he didn't know that as long as his relatives were around, even I couldn't touch him.

And what about Hogwarts? I, barely clinging to life, can't possibly harm Dumbledore under his very nose.

But once he left those two places, he spent all his time with that wizarding family who liked Muggles.

"Once they've finally managed to get alone, the Ministry of Magic will launch a full-scale search."

Upon hearing this, Aaron clicked his tongue inwardly, and for some inexplicable reason, felt a moment of sympathy for Voldemort.

At the same time, he also thought of his bodyguard team, who seemed to have been diligently and conscientiously protecting him in the shadows for more than ten years.

But things go wrong at crucial moments. For example, right now, his distress signal has been out for over ten minutes, and not a single person has come.

“But it doesn’t matter, things have changed now.” Voldemort suddenly raised his arm, his pale, slender fingers pressing against the scar on Harry’s forehead. “I can touch you now.”

Harry felt a sharp pain in his head, but because he was bound to the statue, he couldn't even struggle.

"Heart-breaking and bone-cutting!"

Ah!

Another wave of excruciating pain struck, and Harry convulsed, his eyes rolling back in his head from the agony.

He felt as if his heart was being gnawed by insects, and as if every bone in his body was being slashed by knives.

The agonizing torment made him wish he were dead; even falling into a coma seemed like a luxury.

Cedric couldn't stand it any longer and was about to raise his wand to stop Voldemort, but Aaron beat him to it.

A blue beam of light shot straight at Voldemort, but it was blocked by Barty Jr. before it could get close. However, this incident also interrupted Voldemort's torture of Harry.

Chapter 405 The Dark Lord's Ambition, Standing Shoulder to Shoulder with Merlin

"You still love meddling in other people's business as always!" Voldemort chuckled meaningfully. "Do you think I won't lay a hand on you, or do you think you can still turn the tide this time?"

"Uh... I just felt that someone's screams were affecting my mood, and it would be bad to have nightmares at night," Aaron said sheepishly. "Besides, what happened before was purely a misunderstanding."

“I don’t think that was a misunderstanding,” Voldemort said through gritted teeth. “Three years ago, you prevented me from obtaining the Philosopher’s Stone, otherwise I would have been resurrected long ago.”

"That was Dumbledore's scheme; I just happened to be there."

"You don't really think he knows nothing, do you? Maybe Quirrell's strange behavior was never hidden from him from the beginning." Aaron said with a straight face, spouting nonsense.

That's the truth. Whether others believe it or not, he believed it.

"What about two years ago? You destroyed my memories, that's an undeniable fact."

"Hmm..." Aaron hesitated for a moment, then said somewhat speechlessly, "I won't stop you from resurrecting me, just be sneaky, no, I mean, quietly resurrect me so that no one will know."

But who told you to release the basilisk? Hogwarts is still very important to me, and I can't just stand by and watch it close down!

If I can't go to school, I'll have to go back and inherit the family business that Gaius has built up over thousands of years.

I'm only a teenager; I don't want to experience the frustration of having to worry about all sorts of family affairs when I could just relax and live off my parents.

Everyone:......

What's with this strong Versailles vibe?

"Hahaha..." Voldemort laughed loudly, his cold eyes glowing red. "Fine, I can pretend that nothing happened before."

But now you owe me an answer: are you willing to serve the Dark Lord?

Aaron pretended to think for a while, then shook his head regretfully, "I don't want to."