Only then did he realize that he and Victor Wick had appeared on a desolate island.
They were standing before the entrance of a cave on the island.
Victor Wick led Voldemort inside.
The interior was surprisingly warm, a stark and welcome contrast to the freezing environment outside.
Though the furnishings were simple, the cave seemed to be equipped with everything one might need.
"Did you get the Philosopher's Stone?" Victor Wick asked, seemingly nonchalant.
A wary glint flickered in Voldemort's eyes. "Of course..."
However, Victor didn't press further, merely stating calmly, "I've stored plenty of supplies here—enough for you to stay for three months. Use this time to recover from your injuries. I need to head back as soon as possible. As you know, my cover hasn't been blown yet."
Voldemort's mind raced. Victor Wick truly had no interest in the Philosopher's Stone! Could it be that the methods of longevity he mentioned were actually real? Was that why he didn't care for the Stone?
"Very well... it is just that this useless body has been pushed too far..."
"Don't worry, I'll leave someone behind to look after you. Once you're fully prepared, make haste with your resurrection," Victor said with a frown. "As you know, my time is running short."
Upon hearing this, Voldemort found himself believing Victor's previous claims a bit more.
Victor clapped his hands, and a figure emerged from the shadows of the cave.
"You are..." Voldemort frowned, the person before him looking strikingly familiar.
The man knelt on one knee, his face wearing an expression of fanaticism. "I am Regulus Black, my Master..."
"You? You disappeared back then... but the recent papers reported your return, claiming you betrayed me long ago to join Dumbledore's camp!"
"I sent him on another undercover mission," Victor interjected. "In matters like these, the fewer who know, the better."
"Even I couldn't be told?" Voldemort narrowed his eyes at Victor.
"You never care for the process, only the results, do you not?" Victor replied, neither humble nor arrogant.
"Heh... quite right. I only care if the outcome matches my desires, and you have never disappointed me." Voldemort chuckled.
Of course, Voldemort didn't fully trust Victor's explanation. He intended to interrogate Regulus once Victor had left!
Not everyone possessed a mind as meticulous as Victor's. If there was a flaw in this story, Voldemort was confident he could find the crack in a brash youth like Regulus!
Furthermore, this was a perfect opportunity to test if Victor's words were a pack of lies!
Little did Voldemort know, however, that he was no longer facing the naive boy Regulus once was, but a seasoned dark wizard who had spent over a decade scraping for survival in the underworld.
As long as Regulus kept his wits about him and didn't let his emotions cloud his judgment, finding a slip-up would not be nearly as easy as Voldemort imagined!
Victor nodded to Regulus and then turned to leave...
Once Victor had vanished, Regulus approached again, respectfully presenting a wand held in both hands.
Looking at the familiar wand, Voldemort's fierce gaze rippled with emotion.
He took the wand gently, the familiar sensation surging through him...
"This is my wand... Regulus, where did you get it?"
"Victor has been keeping it safe... He only recently entrusted it to me. We figured that once our Master successfully resurrected, you would need a fitting weapon."
"Good! Very good!"
Having just secured the Philosopher's Stone and reclaimed his wand, Voldemort was ecstatic. For a moment, the thought of testing Regulus completely slipped his mind.
"And this. Victor asked me to hand it to you; he said it would be of great help to you, Master." Regulus handed over a box.
Voldemort snatched the box away. He could already smell a familiar scent from it—the scent of soul power!
"Heh heh heh..." Voldemort's burning gaze remained fixed on the wooden box as he let out a harsh, rasping laugh.
Regulus watched the ecstatic Voldemort in silence, his face a mask of respect, but a flash of contempt crossed his mind...
'Victor was right... the Dark Lord is no longer as wise as he once was. The Horcruxes have made his mind far too vulnerable to his emotions—either ecstatic or enraged. It's becoming impossible for him to maintain clear, long-term thinking. I must make good use of this.'
By the time Victor returned to Hogwarts, the professors were in a state of total chaos.
Harry had been sent directly to the hospital wing.
Not wishing to get involved in the turmoil, Victor headed straight for the Headmaster's office.
However, he found Snape standing at the office door.
"Well, well... if it isn't our brave Half-Blood Prince. You were quite the force tonight! Going toe-to-toe with the Dark Lord like that... your former colleagues would've dropped their jaws if they'd seen it!"
"Heh... is that so? Should I assume that if some bastard hadn't stabbed me in the back, I could have been even braver?" Snape glared at Victor, his face livid. "And... where on earth did you learn... learn that name!?"
"That name? You mean 'the Half-Blood Prince'?" Victor smirked.
Snape's expression immediately darkened.
"Would you believe me if I said Mrs. Potter told me?"
"What do you think?" Snape demanded furiously.
By the time he had come up with that name, Lily had long since cut ties with him...
If Lily never knew, how could she have told Victor?
"Mhm... I'll tell you later."
"Don't think I won't figure it out just because you're staying quiet! Was there something wrong with your damned Lost Mist?" Snape asked through gritted teeth. "To produce such a vivid hallucination... it proves you easily broke through my Occlumency..."
Victor rubbed his hands together awkwardly, giving a sheepish smile. "Severus, is it too late to say sorry? I promise, I only caught a tiny glimpse of your memories by accident... You know looking into your mind wasn't my intention; my real target was the Dark Lord."
Snape's expression shifted instantly. "You..."
If this Lost Mist could break his own Occlumency and read information, did that mean it could do the same to the Dark Lord? Could Victor... locate the other Horcruxes directly from his memories?
Back then, the Dark Lord had just been blasted, and Quirrell's body had reached its breaking point.
This meant that the Dark Lord, in both mind and body, was at his absolute weakest—the perfect time to strike... No! He must have succeeded!
Because the Dark Lord had also "seen" himself being stabbed!
That was proof that the Dark Lord had also been ensnared!
"Did you get the information you wanted?" Snape asked urgently.
His previous irritation had vanished completely; now, his only concern was how to finally finish off Voldemort.
"Let's go inside and talk in front of Dumbledore..."
"Dumbledore isn't back yet... he's at the hospital wing explaining things to Potter."
"Then we'll just have to wait for him to return." Victor tucked his hands into his sleeves and shrugged.
Snape glared at Victor through gritted teeth. "The intelligence you gathered had better be worth the wait..."
"Worth every second, my dear colleague," Victor chuckled.
They didn't have to wait long before Dumbledore returned.
"What took so long to clean up? The castle wasn't even that badly damaged," Victor asked curiously.
"You have the nerve to ask!" Dumbledore gave him a weary look. "You just execute your plan, but I'm the one who has to come up with excuses for everyone else... Explaining it to Harry was easy enough, but Minerva cornered me for nearly ten minutes. I'm certain if she'd asked two more questions, I would have slipped up."
The thought of dealing with the Ministry of Magic tomorrow was already giving Dumbledore a headache.
Victor had been perfectly happy devising the plan for the Azkaban raid, but Dumbledore was the one stuck working overtime to clean up the mess.
Dumbledore began to suspect that Victor was retaliating for all the extra shifts he'd been assigned...
"Perhaps I should hire a proper Defense Against the Dark Arts professor next year to lighten his load... these old bones can't take much more of this," Dumbledore thought to himself as he led them into his office.
"Since the Dark Lord was possessing Quirrell, my Lost Mist mostly peeked into Quirrell's memories. Glimpses of the Dark Lord's mind were few and far between; I only found a few fleeting images..." Victor began.
"Are these images significant?" Dumbledore asked, frowning.
"The Lost Mist prioritizes what the target considers their most important memories... I believe that since those images surfaced, they must be far from meaningless."
Victor's answer caused Snape's face to darken instantly.
Prioritizing the most important memories? Did that mean...? Snape lowered his head, not daring to let his imagination run any further.
Not noticing Snape's distress, Victor raised his wand and traced a gentle arc in the air.
White mist billowed out, and several slightly blurred images materialized in mid-air.
Dumbledore stood up and scrutinized the frozen scenes.
One showed a shimmering diadem, and another showed a golden cup gleaming in the light...
"That is Ravenclaw's Diadem, and Hufflepuff's Cup..." Dumbledore said gravely. "These are relics of the four founders, bearing their marks... though both have been lost for many years."
"Knowing the Dark Lord as I do, it is highly likely he turned these precious artifacts into Horcruxes... He surely believes that only items of such value and historical significance are worthy of housing his soul, much like the Slytherin locket we destroyed. Unfortunately, I couldn't find any specific memories of where these two are located..."
"No, this information is excellent! The returns from your plan have far exceeded my expectations!" Dumbledore looked at the images in the air with delight. "As long as we know what the Horcruxes are, finding them won't be as difficult as we feared. He couldn't possibly have erased every trace of them!"
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