Chapter 68 — The Reason Why
"What good does it do if he runs?" Yaxley let out a cold sneer.
"He can't take the item with him anyway. Perfect—now the treasure belongs to the two of us."
"No," Corvey said suddenly.
Something felt wrong—very wrong.
Ignoring Yaxley entirely, Corvey spun on his heel and charged up the stairs, his footsteps thudding loudly as he rushed to the second floor.
Seeing Corvey leave, Russell sensed his chance. He had just started to move when Yaxley struck without warning.
A brutal kick slammed into Russell's chest.
Pain exploded through him. He collapsed to the floor, coughing violently, barely able to draw breath.
"Don't pull any tricks in front of me," Yaxley said coldly.
"You don't even have a wand now."
As he spoke, he toyed mockingly with Russell's wand—left behind by Corvey before he went upstairs, though Russell hadn't seen it due to the angle.
"No… no…!"
Corvey's furious shout echoed from above. An empty box came flying down the stairs and crashed to the floor.
"That bastard," Corvey snarled as he descended, his face dark with rage.
"He actually broke my spell."
The box had once held what they'd stolen from Gringotts—a strangely ancient golden cup none of them could identify.
That was why the three of them had agreed to infiltrate Hogwarts in the first place.
Hogwarts was ancient, its library vast. If any place could reveal the origins of the cup, this was it.
After all, anything hidden in that madwoman's vault was bound to be extraordinary.
But deciding who would enter Hogwarts had nearly torn them apart.
None of them trusted the others. Whoever stayed outside feared being betrayed and losing the cup.
And each harbored selfish dreams—rumors spoke of hidden treasure vaults in Hogwarts. Find even one, and you'd be set for life.
In the end, they reached a compromise.
Corvey would infiltrate first, posing as the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor.
Once inside, he would find a way to bring the other two in.
For safety, they sealed the cup inside a box.
Each of them cast a different enchantment on it and hid it in the Shrieking Shack.
Yet somehow, Selwyn had broken both his and Yaxley's spells.
Corvey prided himself on being vastly superior to the other two in magic—but the empty box was like a series of sharp slaps to the face.
His composure shattered.
Tonight was meant to be their escape.
Corvey had grown wary of the Defense Against the Dark Arts curse.
But instead—
No treasure.
And the cup was gone.
"What? That's impossible!" Yaxley roared.
"We went through all that trouble stealing it, and he just takes it for himself?"
"Corvey, what the hell went wrong?"
"Didn't you say no one but you could break your spell?!"
He grabbed Corvey by the collar in a panic, clearly no longer thinking straight.
Corvey locked eyes with him—utterly cold, utterly merciless.
"S-sorry… sorry!" Yaxley immediately crumbled, hastily trying to smooth Corvey's robes—only smearing more blood across them.
"Last time," Corvey warned flatly, brushing it off.
"So," Russell said hoarsely,
"that Gringotts robbery… it was you."
Corvey paused and glanced at him in mild surprise.
"How did you know? I'm fairly certain Gringotts suppressed the incident—it never made the Daily Prophet."
"I was there," Russell replied.
Yaxley squinted at him, then snapped his fingers.
"Wait—I remember now. He was that brat standing next to Flitwick."
"A curious twist of fate, isn't it?" Corvey said with faint amusement.
"May I ask," Russell continued,
"what exactly you stole from Gringotts?"
Before Corvey could stop him, Yaxley blurted it out.
"What—can't you tell? It was a golden cup. Don't tell me even you know about that."
He smirked derisively, completely unaware that Corvey was now looking at him the way one might look at a corpse.
Russell's heart skipped a beat.
"Did it have two handles," he asked quickly,
"with intricate carvings along the body?"
Corvey and Yaxley both froze.
He really knows?
Seeing their reactions, Russell understood at once.
"I knew it," he said quietly.
"That's Hufflepuff's Cup—one of the magical artifacts left behind by the four founders of Hogwarts."
(Later turned into a Horcrux by that noseless lunatic… what a waste.)
He kept that thought to himself.
Corvey's expression darkened instantly.
A relic of the Hogwarts founders—
and he'd let it slip right through his fingers.
"Corvey," Yaxley urged frantically,
"that thing's priceless—ancient magic incarnate! What are you waiting for?! We have to get it back!"
His agitation nearly ripped his wounds open again.
Regret, fury, and greed surged together inside Corvey.
He could no longer suppress the storm of emotions.
Slowly, deliberately, he drew his wand—
And pointed it at Yaxley.
Yaxley stared in disbelief.
"Are you out of your mind? Why are you pointing your wand at me? We're on the same side!"
He reached out instinctively, trying to shove the wand aside.
Corvey narrowed his eyes and spoke softly.
"You're wrong. There was never any our treasure.
It's mine alone. Don't worry—I'll retrieve it myself."
The moment the words left his mouth, a blinding green light erupted in Yaxley's eyes.
He didn't even have time to scream.
His body collapsed limply to the floor, utterly motionless.
Russell's wand lay trapped beneath him.
Corvey had never planned to kill Yaxley so soon.
But once news like this leaked out, problems would follow endlessly.
In that case—
Yaxley would just have to be the sacrifice.
"So," Russell said bitterly, forcing a crooked smile,
"the reason you 'trained' me was just to use me against your two trusty partners, wasn't it?"
"You really are sharp," Corvey admitted calmly.
"At first, that was the plan. But later… your talent genuinely surprised me."
He sighed.
"If I were truly a Hogwarts professor, I'd have gladly taken you as my apprentice.
Unfortunately—I'm not."
In his eyes, Russell was already nothing more than meat on the chopping block.
A wandless first-year posed no threat whatsoever.
That was why Corvey answered so patiently—
just like he used to back at Hogwarts.
"Enough talk," he said lightly.
"You've learned everything you're ever going to. I still need to retrieve my cup."
His expression softened with a trace of regret.
"Don't worry. Avada Kedavra is merciful.
You won't feel a thing."
He raised his wand high.
"Avada—"