The trio supported each other as they walked toward Hogwarts.
Along the way, the few of them kept silent, as if each had something on their mind.
It wasn't until they were about to enter the castle that Ron finally sighed and said, "Don't know if Hagrid understood what you told him."
"I bet you anything he absolutely didn't take it seriously." Harry said gloomily, "That's just the kind of person he is, and besides, he doesn't understand how vicious Umbridge really is."
Hermione gave them an angry glare and said in a firm voice, "Then we'll go to him again tomorrow. If necessary, I'll help him prepare his lessons. I don't care if they fire Trelawney, but she is not allowed to drive Hagrid away!"
Hearing this, Harry and Ron also nodded.
Only then did their hearts relax a little, and they quickened their pace.
But just as they approached the castle doors, they saw Madam Pomfrey in a white robe standing on the steps with a very serious expression.
"Harry, perhaps I should tie your legs together so you'll finally remember that you are still a patient!"
Madam Pomfrey scolded sharply.
Hearing that, Harry shrank his neck and muttered a small retort, "Y-yes, but it was Dumbledore who told me to..."
"Then I should tie his legs up too!" Madam Pomfrey's voice became even sharper. "Now, immediately, get back on your sickbed! You must lie there for three full days!"
"But I still need to go tomorrow..."
"No buts!"
As soon as Madam Pomfrey's words fell, two sturdy female volunteers stepped out from both sides of her, grabbed Harry, and hauled him back into the castle.
Hermione and Ron looked at each other, both a bit unsure what to do, and after being stunned for a moment, they chased after them.
The group argued their way into the hospital wing.
The number of people here had not decreased at all since Harry left earlier.
Neville, Ginny, George, Fred, Angelina…
Everyone was still gathered around Harry's bed with worried faces.
"All right, the patient needs rest, so everyone get out!"
Madam Pomfrey ordered while pressing Harry back onto the bed, then said coldly to the group.
Neville was frightened and instinctively hid behind Ginny, completely unaware that Ginny's small body couldn't hide his large one at all.
George and Fred were frequent visitors to the hospital wing.
They laughed and joked with Madam Pomfrey, and were ultimately dragged out by the ears.
And taking advantage of the time George and Fred had bought, the others quickly began to ask Harry about his condition and say their goodbyes.
Honestly, it made Harry very moved.
Looking at these sincere, worried faces in front of him, Harry finally realized he had actually made so many good friends.
However, this feeling didn't last long.
Because Angelina's upset, beautiful face soon appeared right in front of him.
Facing Angelina, Harry's eyes drifted; he didn't dare look her in the eye.
Since the beginning of the school year, he had constantly been in detention with Umbridge, leaving him unable to attend proper Quidditch practices even a few times. Angelina was already very unhappy about that.
The reason Angelina chose to stay at school this time was so she could use the Christmas holiday to help Harry quickly get back into training.
And now…
Feeling Angelina's gaze filled with resentment, Harry felt cold sweat starting to trickle down his back.
He forced a smile at Angelina, wanting to explain something, but at that moment Madam Pomfrey suddenly returned to the ward.
"Are you all still not planning to leave!?"
With Madam Pomfrey's angry shout, the people in the ward finally left.
Harry's heart was a mix of emotions.
For some reason, he had a feeling.
This Christmas… didn't seem like it was going to be very peaceful.
———
Inside a manor with tightly shut doors and windows, Voldemort was touching his fingertips to his brow, eyes closed, leaning against a huge throne-like chair. He seemed to be sleeping, yet also seemed to be thinking.
Young Barty Crouch Jr., dressed in a pure-black warrior robe, was hidden in the darkness behind Voldemort, scanning the surroundings warily, standing guard for him.
And farther away, the short, fat, balding Wormtail was already soaked in cold sweat.
The right hand Voldemort had previously restored for him had once again disappeared.
This was Moody's doing.
That Blasting Curse had completely blown apart half his arm, and also destroyed the wand he had stolen from some unlucky fool.
In the rooms outside, there were plenty more wounded like him.
These were all caused by their recent frantic excavations and explorations of ancient ruins, as well as their battles with the Order of the Phoenix.
Speaking strictly in terms of casualty ratios, they were utterly crushed by the Order's guerrilla tactics.
Fortunately, the brutal fighting had temporarily come to an end.
Their master Voldemort had given the order not long ago, demanding that they temporarily return to Ying Country to lie low and recuperate.
Just thinking about not having to fight those lunatics from the Order anymore filled Wormtail with heartfelt joy.
A faint, almost undetectable smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, and he wiped his sweat with what remained of his left hand.
But he had only just raised his hand halfway when Barty Crouch Jr.'s crazed gaze, filled openly with killing intent, locked onto him.
Wormtail instinctively showed an ugly, fawning grin, which finally made Barty look away with disgust.
'Bloody lunatic!' Wormtail cursed silently in his heart.
The pressure of staying beside Voldemort was simply too great.
Especially with that Barty Crouch Jr.
That guy had already become completely insane, like the Death Eaters Wormtail used to know.
His eyes were always wild, except when they were fixed on Voldemort. Then they were filled with fanatical worship.
Wormtail had no doubt that as long as Voldemort gave the word, a lunatic like Barty would dare raise his wand at anyone.
Lowering his head, Wormtail slowly began to inch toward the fireplace.
Although the eerie green magic flames burning in the fireplace didn't offer much heat, it was still better than the icy cold darkness that surrounded them now.
"Peter, how is the situation in Azkaban?"
A cold, hoarse voice suddenly echoed in the empty room.
Wormtail, who had only made it halfway, shivered, snapped to attention, and said, "Master! The Dementors have already agreed to begin preliminary negotiations with us, but they do not want to completely turn against them. They said…"
Wormtail paused, and seeing that Voldemort still had his eyes closed and showed no displeasure, continued, "They said that if they're to become our allies, we must first prove that we are stronger than the Ministry of Magic."
"Hm. What else?"
"What else?" Wormtail repeated instinctively, but quickly reacted and said, "Oh! Right! Lady Lestrange! We've already made contact with Lady Lestrange. She said she was overjoyed to hear of your return and asked me to convey her most heartfelt congratulations on behalf of herself and the other Death Eaters, and also said..."
"Get to the point!"
"Terribly sorry!" Wormtail bowed so low his head was nearly touching his shoes. "The thing you entrusted her to guard, she put it in the Lestrange family's vault in Gringotts!"
After speaking, Wormtail took out a thick brass key and held it up with both hands above his head.
Voldemort's pair of golden snake-like eyes opened.
He didn't look at Wormtail. His gaze swept past the brass key and finally landed on the ghostly green flames inside the fireplace.
Hufflepuff's golden cup.
This was the Horcrux he had entrusted to Bellatrix Lestrange in the past.
At the same time, he had also entrusted his teenage notebook to Lucius Malfoy.
Without a doubt, this was an enormous amount of trust.
It's just a pity that Malfoy let him down.
If it weren't for Malfoy being such a fence-sitter, the situation right now wouldn't have turned out like this at all.
He also wouldn't have become some so-called… No. 4.
Voldemort's fists clenched tightly.
As long as he thought about those three black figures, the flames of anger would uncontrollably burn up from within him.
The air pressure in the room suddenly dropped to an extremely low point. Wormtail, who had been bowing with his head lowered, had long been unable to withstand the feeling of suffocating pressure and had already collapsed to his knees on the floor. But even then, the hands holding the key were still lifted high above his head.
"Barty Jr., my most loyal servant."
Voldemort's voice rang out again. The fanatically-eyed Barty Crouch Jr. stepped forward with a heavy stomp.
"Take this key and bring my cup back. And be careful, don't let anyone notice."
"Yes! My Lord!"
Barty Crouch Jr. knelt on the ground and kissed the edge of Voldemort's robe. Then he got up, took the key, and walked out with his head held high and his chest puffed out.
As his footsteps gradually faded away, Voldemort rose and stood before the window.
He pulled open the curtains, gazing at the distant, gloomy sky, his expression slowly growing cold and sharp.
Horcruxes were the most crucial existence.
As long as he could get the Horcrux back, he would have a chance to reverse the current situation.
The premise was that he had to keep it hidden from everyone, including those three who referred to themselves by numbers.
In this regard, he actually had the advantage.
After all, the one who hid the Horcruxes back then was himself.
But having an advantage didn't guarantee success.
Like the Slytherin locket in the cave earlier, he had originally planned to retrieve that one secretly himself.
But what was the outcome?
First, the Order of the Phoenix learned about it. And then No. 1 and the others also found out.
The end result was that the cave became a battlefield for the two sides.
And he, the actual owner of the matter, became nothing more than a bystander.
Fortunately, that locket in the cave had been switched out by some traitor.
That should be considered the best outcome. After all, if that thing fell into the hands of No. 1 and his group, that would have been the real disaster.
And then there was Dumbledore…
Voldemort couldn't help pinching the bridge of his nose again, the corner of his mouth curling into a sinister smile.
His mind was strangely linked to that so-called legendary Harry Potter.
But unlike Harry, as one of the strongest Legilimency masters of the era, he had noticed it long ago.
Harry's mind was like a sieve to him.
He blocked Harry's perception of him at the very first moment, while secretly peeking into Harry's mind, using Harry to learn about Dumbledore and Link's side of things.
Even the prophetic dream Harry had before, that was a scene Voldemort had actively transmitted to him.
And the purpose was to get Harry to approach Dumbledore, thereby learning about the Order of the Phoenix's current condition.
Judging from the results, this tactic was simply perfect.
That stupid half-giant, although unaware of the locations of the other Order members' safehouses, still leaked the information that the Order had lost the ability to fight and had entered a dormant state.
Now, among the two organizations giving him the biggest headaches, one had already gone dormant.
And the other had shifted its focus to scheming and pulling strings overseas in other countries, temporarily too busy to intervene in his affairs.
With such a perfect situation, surely the cup would return to his hands, right?
If not, then Barty Jr. had no need to come back.
Outside the window, dark clouds had gathered; faint lightning flickered among them, letting out dull rumbles.
Barty Jr., now dressed in a fresh silk robe, also walked out of the villa and boarded the already-prepared carriage, ready to depart for Gringotts.
Noticing Voldemort's gaze, Barty Jr. glanced toward the window, and by coincidence, his eyes met Voldemort's.
A blush spread across Barty's face. Even though he was in the cramped carriage, he excitedly rose to bow toward Voldemort.
Voldemort smiled and nodded back at him.
Only… hidden within that smile was a deep, chilling coldness.
———
[The Next Day]
Inside the Hogwarts infirmary, Harry woke from deep sleep and stretched widely.
Listening to the crisp cracking sounds from his joints, Harry's mood was unbelievably good, this meant he was still going to keep growing.
Creak~
The door opened.
Professor McGonagall, wearing a brown robe, walked in, expressionless, and said, "You're finally awake. Do you know what time it is?"
Harry instinctively glanced at the clock in the corner. It showed five minutes before 1 p.m.
'So lunch is already almost over?'
He then looked at Professor McGonagall's expression, and his heart instantly leapt into his throat.
No one knew better than him how strict Professor McGonagall was.
For sleeping in, she wouldn't punish you, but she would definitely lecture you.
And just when Harry was anxiously bracing himself for the incoming storm, he unexpectedly saw a rare trace of a smile appear on McGonagall's face. She said, "How was your sleep last night? Any nightmares?"
"No, I slept great!" Harry answered without hesitation.
And he wasn't even lying.
He really hadn't had any nightmares last night, and because of that, he had slept the best he had in a long time, so well that his body still felt pleasantly tingly and relaxed.
After hesitating, Harry still tried to explain, "I didn't mean to sleep this late. You saw it, I'd been unconscious for so long before this, my biological clock is all messed up. Honestly, I tried to sleep before 8 p.m. last night, but I just couldn't fall asleep…"
"All right, all right, child. No one's going to punish you for sleeping in once." Professor McGonagall smiled. "Don't forget, it's Christmas holidays now."
Saying that, and seeing Harry clearly sigh in relief, Professor McGonagall shook her head and continued toward the door, "But you really should get up. Your friends have been waiting in the hallway for quite a while, and they even brought you the lunch you missed."
"Wait!"
Harry's sudden shout stopped her. She turned back, puzzled, looking at him.
"Professor McGonagall," Harry's expression turned serious, "I want to see Professor Dumbledore again! C-Could you take me to him?"