Albanian Forest.
After sensing the reaction from the Dark Mark on their arms, Barty and Perkins were ecstatic.
This proved they had come to the right place. The Dark Lord was here and was summoning his servants!
So, within that single day, they created a lot of commotion. According to Barty's idea, since they still had no specific clues about the Dark Lord's whereabouts, they should first inform their Master of their own location.
By making a big stir, the Dark Lord would come to find them.
Thus, the emerald green Dark Mark was lit in the sky of a foreign land.
Due to the Fountain of Fair Fortune, many wizards from countries near Albania had gathered here, and quite a few among them recognized what that mark represented.
Soon, the appearance of the Dark Mark caused massive panic locally. The Albanian Aurors deployed almost all their personnel to this forest.
While maintaining order, they were also nervously preparing to find the person who had cast the Dark Mark.
But Barty and Perkins were well hidden. They avoided the Aurors constantly searching the forest, yet they never waited for the Dark Lord to come find them actively.
Another two days passed. Perkins finally couldn't hold back anymore.
"Could it be... could it be that Snape and the others have already found Master? The Dark Mark reacted because Master was responding to him?"
Barty remained silent, just staring gloomily at the darkening night sky.
Perkins, however, paced back and forth anxiously.
"And since yesterday, we haven't been able to find him. They disappeared from that troll camp, the day after the Mark reacted! Logically, Snape should have also sensed Master's summons and stayed to search for Master like us. It's also impossible that he had no reaction at all after seeing we lit the Dark Mark!"
Seeing Barty still sitting there silently, saying nothing, Perkins grew even more frantic.
"How can you just sit here? If Snape really has found Master, he will definitely slander us! It's fine if Master doesn't believe him, but what if he does? What should we do then! What should we do!"
Just as Perkins was anxiously spinning in circles, an owl suddenly swooped down from the night sky towards their location.
Seeing the owl, Barty narrowed his eyes, and Perkins was also stunned.
"Who would know we are here? Without our location, who could have an owl deliver a letter here?"
Barty, however, didn't share Perkins's many questions. He simply gently took the letter from the owl's talon, opened it, glanced over it, then shook the letter, allowing a sudden flame to reduce it to ashes.
"What did the letter say!" Perkins stared intently at Barty "Why didn't you dare let me see it! Has Snape taken Master back to Britain already!"
Barty remained silent. He retracted his hand into his sleeve, gripping the end of his wand.
"Why aren't you speaking! You're scared, aren't you! You don't dare tell me the truth! Snape found Master! He's the most loyal! Master trusts him! Isn't that right!!"
Perkins, nearly losing his mind, reached out to grab Barty's shoulders. However, before he could take a step forward, a wand that suddenly came out from the sleeve was already pointed at him!
"Crucio!"
The Cruciatus Curse, acting directly on the soul, inflicted immense torment on Perkins, who had no time to react or resist.
The pain, as if his whole body were being roasted over fire, every part being cut by knives and chiseled by axes, made Perkins let out a tremendous howl.
"Ahhh-"
"Idiot! I've had enough of you fools!!"
Barty's voice almost came out as a roar.
"Crucio!"
Another Cruciatus Curse made Perkins curl up like a boiled shrimp, his muscles spasming uncontrollably.
"So what if Snape found Master first! Why are you afraid? Why are you anxious? Why are you scared!!"
"As long as Master returns, as long as Master can lead us to complete the great ideal again! Who found him first, does it really matter! Ah! Speak!"
"Only you pigs and dogs, who only care about power and profit in your eyes, would only think about what benefits come from finding Master first! If you hadn't found Master first, wouldn't you wish he never returned?"
"Crucio!!!"
After the third Cruciatus Curse landed, Perkins had completely lost consciousness. He lay on the ground, eyes vacant, foaming at the mouth, his face as pale as a corpse!
Under the night sky, the forest became quiet again, only Barty's rapid breathing remained.
But before long, Barty adjusted his breathing. He returned to his usual outwardly gloomy, withdrawn, and silent appearance.
He took a handkerchief from his pocket, gently wiped the sweat from his hands, and finally threw the handkerchief onto Perkins's body.
Barty finally let out a long sigh. He seemed to be speaking to Perkins, yet also to himself.
"To be honest, I never really wanted to kill any of you. No matter what, no matter your motives, you could still be of use to Master."
"But your stupidity is simply unbearable. It makes me sick to my stomach, as disgusting as those damned kiviak the Eskimos eat!"
He gently pointed his wand at Perkins again.
"Avada Kedavra!"
…
After meeting with the Death Eaters, Severus did not return to the Weasleys to find Harry and the others.
Instead, he returned directly to Hogwarts, went straight to the Headmaster's office, and found Dumbledore, who, despite having changed into his nightgown and nightcap, was still sitting in his office chair deep in thought.
Ever since Severus handed him the matter of the fragment of Voldemort in Harry that morning, Dumbledore had been pondering it.
But even he couldn't immediately think of a way to harmlessly separate the soul fragment from a Horcrux!
It wasn't until Severus returned to the Headmaster's office and found him that the frown Dumbledore had worn all afternoon finally relaxed into a smile.
"Have you finished handling what needed to be handled?"
Severus plopped down opposite Dumbledore, then skillfully rummaged through the old man's snack box, pulling out some shortbread biscuits to serve as a late-night snack.
"More or less. It went even more smoothly than I expected. Voldemort doesn't trust the others, only me. He placed the command of those people in my hands."
"As for Barty Crouch Jr., I've had the Carrow siblings make contact. Soon, those fugitives wanted by the Ministry will gather, making it easy to deal with them."
Dumbledore listened carefully to Severus's words. He knew well that Severus surely had more to say.
Since August, whenever this man appeared in his office, he always brought surprises.
"And finally, Voldemort himself."
Severus took out the teacup and placed it on the desk.
"He's growing impatient. Existing for so long without a body, in this neither-human-nor-ghost form, has made him increasingly weak. If not for someone's help, relying on himself alone, he might never have been able to leave that forest in Albania."
"So, he gave Lucius and the others a task: they must obtain unicorn blood within a week."
"Simultaneously, he's privately arranging for me to prepare his resurrection."
Hearing this, Dumbledore, who had relaxed his brow upon seeing Severus, couldn't help but frown again.
"What does he want you to do?"
"Bone of the father, blood of the enemy, flesh of the servant."
As a century-old wizard, Dumbledore naturally understood what method Voldemort intended to use for resurrection upon hearing these components!
And from Voldemort's perspective, with Severus around, preparing these things would be no trouble at all.
Tom Riddle Sr.'s grave was right there, not going anywhere.
He had countless loyal servants willing to offer their flesh.
As for the most difficult part, the blood of the enemy, Harry Potter was already under Severus's wing. The hardest part had become the easiest.
Similarly, Dumbledore understood the purpose of Severus coming to him proactively.
"So, the time left for us to make a decision is short?" Dumbledore said softly.
Severus simply held up two fingers, which still had biscuit crumbs on them.
"Two weeks. He gave me two weeks. If I haven't prepared these things in two weeks, it basically means I have to turn against him, outright telling him I'm a traitor."
Dumbledore's expression became grave.
This was definitely not good news!
Two weeks was too short.
Whichever method they chose, they couldn't possibly have sufficient preparation.
If they wanted to follow Severus's plan, first deceiving Voldemort, letting him complete his resurrection according to their planned steps, then having Harry face him in a final life-or-death duel, letting Voldemort himself destroy the fragment of his own soul within Harry...
During this period, Harry himself would need training and guidance.
Dumbledore was certain that the protective magic Lily left on Harry would only display its strongest power, ensuring Harry didn't die by Voldemort's hand, when Harry's own belief reached a peak.
But Harry, who had just turned nine not long ago, no matter how strong his belief, couldn't compare to his adult self.
If they simply let Harry duel the resurrected Voldemort like this, nine times out of ten, Harry would die by Voldemort's wand.
If they chose to turn against Voldemort now, they had to be prepared to permanently seal Voldemort within this teacup.
At that point, Severus couldn't possibly hide it from Lucius and the others anymore.
Even if the opportunistic followers and die-hard loyalists still at large were temporarily captured, once any of them escaped prison, they would undoubtedly start thinking about how to find their Master again.
The principle is to always be vigilant against thieves, but one cannot guard against them every single day. Severus and Dumbledore couldn't guard this teacup forever.
Just as Dumbledore fell into contemplation, feeling the current situation was forcing a final choice, he suddenly looked up and saw Severus sitting opposite him, still leisurely eating shortbread and drinking lemon soda.
Seeing this, Dumbledore couldn't help but pause, then he seemed to realize something and suddenly laughed.
Severus found his change of expression baffling.
"What are you laughing at?"
Dumbledore relaxed his posture, leaning back comfortably in his chair.
Gazing at Severus, he said softly,
"I can see, Severus, that no matter who you've become, you truly possess a sincere, righteous heart."
Severus just rolled his eyes.
"Even if you flatter me, I'm not going to magically extract the soul fragment from Harry's body right here."
"You must have a countermeasure, don't you?" A glint of light flashed across Dumbledore's spectacles. "If you didn't have a plan in mind, you wouldn't be acting so relaxed right now."
Severus met Dumbledore's gaze and clapped his hands.
"You're putting all the calculation on me, huh."
"Talk to me, Severus," Dumbledore said gently. "What is your plan?"
"At Harry's current age, we absolutely cannot let him duel Voldemort. That wouldn't be saving him, it would be sending him to his death," Severus stated firmly.
"Eliminating that option leaves us with only one choice: completely break with Voldemort, permanently sealing him within this teacup until we find a way to help Harry remove Voldemort's soul fragment, or simply wait until Harry dies of old age."
"If we do that, the key problem is that we absolutely can't keep Voldemort's soul fragment near us. If we do, even those with ill intentions could guess where to find their Master."
As he spoke, Severus reached into his robe pocket, pulled out a newspaper, and slapped it onto the desk in front of Dumbledore.
"Our luck isn't bad. There's a major project preparing to launch soon, officially starting on October 18th. We just need to find a way to get on their ship..."
"The Wizarding World will never have to face Voldemort or his ghost again in the future."