The Wind and the Wings of Hogwarts

“Malfoy Manor seemed quite lively last night,” Rimbaud said. “The Death Eaters even showed up.”

"Um……"

Scott responded, no longer caring about his meal, and just staring at the familiar or unfamiliar faces in the mirror.

To his relief, his monitor, the little lizard, had remained hidden and had not been discovered.

He pointed his finger at the mirror, bringing the sped-up playback back to normal speed.

At this moment, the scene shows all the Death Eaters gathered in the garden.

The area where they gathered was the same place where Draco Malfoy Jr. and Barty Crouch Jr. had spoken just two days earlier.

Snape and Malfoy stood at the front of the crowd, while everyone else bowed their heads, seemingly waiting for something.

Seeing this, Scott couldn't help but hold his breath.

"Is Voldemort about to appear?" Rimbaud couldn't help but ask.

Scott didn't answer, but just stared at the mirror and squinted.

Under their watchful eyes, the image in the mirror quickly changed.

The patch of grass that the Death Eaters were facing had been empty, but suddenly a thick cloud of black mist appeared out of nowhere.

The black mist churned and spread, eventually forming a doorway that existed between illusion and reality.

Two figures slowly emerged from the black mist, gradually revealing their true forms.

The first thing Scott noticed was a pair of narrow eyes.

Those eyes were clearly a vibrant red, like warm blood, yet they inexplicably gave off a chilling, bone-deep feeling.

That feeling was colder than a venomous snake, and more brutal than a ravenous wolf.

Even through the mirror, Scott still felt a great sense of oppression.

Without a doubt, this is the Dark Lord, the wizards' nightmare, the one whose name must not even be uttered—Voldemort.

Voldemort's appearance was extremely similar to that of the movie Scott had seen in his previous life: pale skin devoid of any color, no hair, no nose, and a emaciated body, dressed in a robe that seemed to be formed from black mist.

But looking at Voldemort in the mirror, Scott couldn't laugh at his appearance like he did when watching movies in his previous life.

Because this is not funny at all.

Unlike Dumbledore, who was restrained, and Medea, who was disguised, Voldemort unleashed his powerful aura without restraint.

It was an aura that transcended ordinary wizards, as if they were not even the same species as the vast majority of wizards, a naked predator's aura.

"Owner."

All the Death Eaters knelt on the ground and bowed their heads respectfully.

Now Barty Crouch Jr., who was behind Voldemort, also stepped forward and knelt down with a fanatical expression.

"Greetings, Death Eaters."

Voldemort spread his arms, his ten slender fingers moving in the air like spider legs.

"We've finally met officially again."

He spoke slowly and deliberately, his red eyes wide open, but his narrow pupils were contracting, like a cat's eyes.

“I’m glad to see many old friends… Let me see, good, most of the Death Eaters are here, except for those poor souls who have lost their lives by accident, of course. But I can’t tell whether everyone here still retains their loyalty.”

He seemed to be doing it on purpose, his tone carrying a hint of amusement.

The Death Eaters all kept their heads down, and no one dared to utter a sound.

“What do you say, Lucius, my cunning, hypocritical old friend?” Voldemort lowered his head, staring at old Malfoy. “Aren’t you unhappy that I’ve taken over your manor and gathered Death Eaters here?”

"No...Master..."

Old Malfoy hurriedly crawled forward on his knees.

“Please believe me, Master,” he said with utmost respect, “I am of course utterly loyal to you, always have been…”

"Then why..." Voldemort narrowed his eyes, "when did you, who are always so shrewd, become so careless? You couldn't even detect the insects that had infiltrated the manor?"

Scott sighed. "He found out..."

At this moment, black mist filled the mirror, quickly taking over the entire image.

The connection between the [Magic Mirror] and the lizard has been severed.

Rimbaud turned to Scott in a panic, "This...this is terrible...what if he...what if he comes after you?"

Scott remained relatively calm.

“Don’t worry, he’s never seen me before and can’t tell my magic,” he said. “Besides, the Oak Hut has been hidden by the Faithful Charm, and I’m the one who keeps it secret. No one can find it.”

"I hope so," Rimbaud said, still somewhat worried.

Scott added, "Don't forget Snape is over there too. I think Dumbledore will soon get the news of Voldemort's resurrection."

He pointed a finger at the mirror.

"I'm afraid the things I set up around Azkaban yesterday will soon come in handy."

As he manipulated it, several images monitoring Azkaban from different angles were neatly arranged in the [Magic Mirror].

"This time, I didn't leave behind a shapeshifting animal, but a dead object that had become one with the reef. Its magical fluctuations were much weaker, making it less likely to be detected."

"It seems the magical world is about to get really lively." As a raven, Rimbaud was already quite perceptive of the current state of the magical world.

“Yes, it might be too much of a spectacle,” Scott said with a hint of helplessness. “Especially since it’s during the Quidditch World Cup.”

The upheaval in the British magical world could inadvertently shock the entire world.

After thinking for a while about the possible changes in the situation, Scott began to consider his own situation again.

With his current strength, he should be able to protect himself unless he is deliberately targeted by the top wizards.

But the truth is quite the opposite; his existence is related to Salazar Slytherin's Millennium Plan, and Medea will not let him off easily.

The reason Medea hasn't done anything to him yet is twofold: firstly, his existence would change his predetermined fate, and secondly, she hasn't fully recovered.

Scott had long ago realized that he couldn't simply stand by and not change his predetermined fate, nor could he refrain from doing so.

To break the deadlock, his first step was to weaken Medea's power.

However, Scott himself didn't have much of a chance against Medea, not to mention that the lady also had the All Witches' Guild under her command.

To this end, Scott went so far as to release Barty Crouch Jr. to prematurely revive Voldemort, hoping that Voldemort could deal a blow to Medea.

Now that Voldemort has regained his power, given his arrogant and domineering nature, he will certainly not let Medea, who chased him into a corner when he was weak and devoured most of his Horcruxes, go unpunished.

From Medea's perspective, if she wanted to increase her power through a full resurrection, she would have to sacrifice Voldemort's soul, and she would inevitably go to great lengths to deal with Voldemort.

In short, Scott believes the current situation is on the verge of exploding.

He speculated that the first contact most likely occurred in Azkaban.

Even Dumbledore would get involved.

He lost all interest in doing anything for the rest of the time, constantly staring at the [magic mirror], trying to verify his conjecture.

Fortunately, Voldemort seemed to be an impatient person as well, and didn't keep Scott waiting for long.

After dinner, a ship appeared on the sea surface in one of the surveillance screens displayed in the [Magic Mirror].

Scott quickly zoomed in on the image of the sea.

“They really went!” he told Rimbaud.

"Oh..." Rimbaud quickly flew onto his shoulder and peered out, "Are you sure Voldemort and Death Eaters are on this ship?"

“I think so,” Scott said.

Azkaban forbids apparition and apparition; whoever wants to go there must travel on foot.

The tall wooden ship with black sails approached the island where Azkaban was located like a giant beast.

The entire ship was pitch black, with no lights on board, just like a ghost ship from Muggle legends.

Scott moved his finger and switched to a different angle of the image.

At that moment, a light appeared on the pier by the sea on the island.

An old wizard with a hunched back and a face full of wrinkles like engravings walked onto the dock carrying a magic lamp, followed by two young wizards with numb faces.

"Cough...cough..."

The old wizard coughed a few times and looked up at the quiet, large ship.

He didn't speak, he just stared without moving.

Two young wizards behind him had already drawn their wands.

A wooden staircase extended down from the edge of the ship's deck and was placed on the dock.

Voldemort led a group of Death Eaters out of the darkness and down the steps.

He stopped on the steps, looking down at the old wizard. "It's you, old Raoul. How many years have you been guarding this damned place?"

The old wizard's expression was stiff, and his voice was stiff as well. "It's been over fifty years."

"Time flies," Voldemort remarked, whether genuinely or feigning surprise. "We may be the same age, but you look like a real old man."

The old wizard laughed upon hearing this.

Whether it was from fear or because he hadn't smiled in a long time, his smile looked very awkward.

"I am indeed getting old. If I stay in this godforsaken place for too long, I won't have many more years to live."

At this moment, he seemed to have lost the fear and unease he felt when facing Voldemort.

"You want to break into this prison, is that it... cough cough."

The old wizard coughed a few more times.

"In short, I know we can't stop you, I just want to say, please spare these two children."

The "children" he referred to were the two young wizards following behind him.

Both of them were trembling at this moment.

"Of course, not just them, but also you, as long as you don't get in the way."