Harry felt as though his scar were on fire.
He never imagined that simply staying up for seven nights cramming before exams, severely sleep-deprived—
He'd actually dozed off in the examination hall and collapsed unconscious right in front of Jane, his mental defences utterly breached.
He wondered whether his History of Magic would even be a pass.
In the second before he lost consciousness, lights and shadows flashed before his eyes, the black text on his exam paper twisting like Dementors...
He felt a heart-piercing hatred, rage erupting like a volcano from his stomach, flooding his entire chest.
"Failure after failure. I am disappointed. I must admit I am very disappointed."
He heard his own mouth emit a voice that was chillingly cold and utterly emotionless:
"Fourteen years. You have all lived very comfortably, but you have forgotten your master—forgotten the one to whom you swore eternal loyalty."
Only then did Harry realise he was sitting at a long table with an empty vase upon it.
The dim little room was full of silent figures, their gazes fixed directly on the vase as if they could see flowers blooming there.
He forced himself to endure the searing pain in his forehead, carefully making out their faces—
Wormtail, the Malfoys, men who looked very much like Goyle and Crabbe... faces from newspaper photos of escaped criminals...
A Death Eater gathering.
Their faces showed no expression whatsoever—cold and terrifying. Wormtail cowered and trembled, his severed hand regrown into silver.
Looking at them, Harry felt the hatred and fury in his heart burn even fiercer.
He knew it wasn't just Voldemort's emotions—some of it was his own.
"Look at the foolish things you've done in the name of Death Eaters during my absence."
His mouth continued spewing uncontrollable words, each laden with menacing reckoning:
"Whilst I was gone, you held a disgraceful gathering at the Quidditch World Cup."
He tapped the table with one finger, and a somewhat aged newspaper appeared. He began reading slowly:
"Mocked by Muggles for conjuring tricks... publicly playing with rubber toys in broad daylight... surrounding Muggle men and women, all for this..."
"My followers, who claim noble bloodlines, have made the entire Death Eater organisation a laughingstock. You became cheap conjurers in Muggle mouths, performed a comedy before the entire world, made the whole wizarding world laugh, and destroyed my authority completely."
Nearly every Death Eater's face turned alternately red and white. The only sound was the crackling of candle flames.
But Harry's heart suddenly sprouted some joy—he knew it was his own—
Because thinking of those rubber ducks bouncing about made him want to laugh!
Only one woman with heavy eyelids, thin lips, and wild black hair—the newspapers had named her Bellatrix—was glaring viciously at everyone present, trying to find signs of disloyalty in their faces.
Harry felt his gaze sweep over the people at the table, finally settling on Lucius Malfoy's face.
"My most cunning Death Eater, Lucius," he said in an odd, chanting tone. "Returned to my side to swear his loyalty."
"Master, we have always been loyal to you," Lucius's face was beaded with cold sweat as he involuntarily glanced at the wand that had once been his. "Always. I even gave you my wand—"
Harry felt his displeasure deepen, and he cut off Lucius's words:
"Is that so? But you seem rather displeased with the task I assigned you."
Accompanied by Lucius's feeble protests of "No, Master," a giant serpent slowly hissed as it climbed up his chair leg. It raised its head, tongue flicking in and out, touching the pale face of its not-so-loyal target.
"I instructed you to investigate that girl thoroughly. She holds too many mysteries. Tell me, Lucius, what have you discovered?"
"Dumbledore adopted her," Lucius's body was rigid with tension. "She invented something called a game console—it's very popular—"
"Useless information!" the cold, high voice rang out. "The whole world knows that! I asked you—your only son Draco is at school with her, in the same house. You should know more than others... more... you haven't applied yourself."
At the mention of their son, both Lucius and Narcissa looked up in terror.
Mr Goyle and Mr Crabbe stared maliciously at the couple, clearly delighted to see their misfortune.
"M-Master," Narcissa spoke stiffly. "Our good-for-nothing son hasn't had any close relationship with her. He's not very bright... He follows our instructions and stays with Goyle and Crabbe's sons... He's rather abnormal..."
Voldemort let out a cold laugh, his voice dropping lower:
"Yes... rather useless... I've heard... he's got hysteria, a mental illness, hasn't he?"
The bewildered couple nodded frantically, hearts in their throats.
Though their son was mad about money, they didn't think he'd reached the level of mental illness.
But since their superior said so, the quick-thinking couple immediately acknowledged it.
After a long pause, Voldemort spoke coldly:
"But I hear he's spreading Muggle ideas at school, poisoning wizard children's minds—"
"Impossible, Master!" Lucius was drenched in cold sweat. "Draco was forced by Dolores Umbridge! She was spreading Muggle ideas rampantly at school, demanding students use Muggle items, even forbidding them to use wands! She's left Hogwarts and been dismissed from the Ministry... Our only son got ill because of her... Now his head's full of Galleons..."
Mr Nott spat on the floor, speaking with intense contempt:
"I can testify to that, Master. She poisoned the entire school, especially Slytherin."
"How dreadful," Voldemort sighed softly. "Dolores Umbridge—sounds like a massive tumour, corrupting the minds of wizard children. I should invite her for a visit. As for your son, Lucius, you should treat him properly. I hope the excellent ancient pure-blood families won't develop a festering sore."
The couple breathed a sigh of relief. Having successfully diverted trouble elsewhere, their rigidly tense backs relaxed slightly.
The giant serpent silently slid down from Lucius's chair and vanished beneath the table.
"Jane Yu—there are far too many unexpected things about her. Her obstruction of me has almost exceeded that boy's—"
Harry saw his right hand reach towards his outer robes, gently pulling them open to reveal the skin beneath—
Layer upon layer of thick bandages, with occasionally exposed skin that was dark red, flesh tight against bone like a withered mummy!
The Death Eaters seemed ready to scream but choked the sounds back, staring at him with terrified eyes.
"Look at me—see what she's reduced me to!" his voice became extremely high and shrill. "My resurrection was as painful as a fragile infant's birth! I've had to constantly drain my servants' flesh and blood to gradually recover! But I must become stronger!"
Explosions suddenly erupted across the long table. The vases shattered and flew everywhere, forcing the Death Eaters to duck down to avoid Voldemort's fury.
Harry felt his scar hurt so much he wanted to die. Hearing about Voldemort draining his servants' flesh and blood made him feel sick.
Draining? How? Eating people?
"She's Dumbledore's secret weapon! And you can't even uncover her secrets!" Voldemort's furious voice continued. "She alone transformed into black mist and escaped Azkaban! Broke through the encirclement of my most loyal, most elite followers! Killed so many Dementors who served me! And you can't even handle a fifth-year child, you fools!"
"Master, I'll kill her!" Bellatrix let out a fanatical shriek, madly professing loyalty. "I'll relieve your burden—"
"I command you—I want her alive," Voldemort tilted his head slightly to look at her. "I need to discover what secrets she holds. Her flesh must be special—I need more magical power, I need her strength!"
Terror welled up in Harry's heart—he'd never imagined—
Voldemort actually wanted Jane's flesh and blood! And alive at that!
He wanted to eat Jane alive!
Lucius and Narcissa exchanged evasive glances, their voices very quiet:
"Then, besides her, that boy—Master, you mentioned needing to deal with Harry Potter—"
This seemed to reignite Voldemort's fury. Harry felt extreme hatred surge into his brain:
"Yes, Harry Potter—another enemy with unknown power. I made a grave error with him—"
"He must die, but before that, I must first obtain that prophecy and my wand! Once again you've failed to complete the tasks I assigned!"
Lucius's gaze shifted away, and Mr Goyle and Mr Crabbe's faces turned deathly pale.
"I instructed you to maintain your Ministry connections properly. As long as they continued their façade of peace, I could plant people to control the Ministry."
"But you let a fool we'd been playing with—a manipulable Fudge—step down, allowing Dumbledore to gain the upper hand! You calmly accepted everything without anyone thinking to kill Amelia Bones in advance! She's no simple person! Now, trying to enter the heavily guarded Ministry to kill her isn't something the Killing Curse alone can solve!"
The room fell silent except for three trembling voices pleading, "Master, give me another chance."
Harry saw his hand rise, about to punish his useless subordinates—
But suddenly the door burst open, and a man with a face full of scars and a fierce appearance appeared in the doorway.
"Master, I'm late," the man didn't sit but leaned forward. "But there's a reason—I gathered intelligence from Ministry staff. Apparently Dumbledore took a glass orb from the Ministry—"
An uncontrollable fury at ruined plans erupted, stronger than any emotion Harry had ever felt!
He saw his hand grip the wand and slash it viciously through the air, pointing forward. Mr Goyle let out a piercing scream, his body writhing and squirming on the ground, followed by Mr Crabbe, who collapsed heavily, convulsing and rolling his eyes back before fainting.
His hand slashed down repeatedly as Death Eaters fell to the floor one by one. The remaining fled in all directions, but his rage didn't diminish in the slightest...
Yet alongside the hatred and fury, Harry felt he could gradually distinguish between Voldemort's emotions and his own.
A secret joy rose in his heart... or rather, a kind of hope!
Jane possessed such powerful abilities—she could escape from Death Eaters and Dementors, constantly thwarting Voldemort...
The Death Eaters had failed to infiltrate the Ministry to obtain that prophecy orb. Minister Bones's leadership was so wise that Voldemort had no opportunity!
Anger, hatred, and joy fought in his mind, tearing at his thoughts. The scene before him grew increasingly chaotic...
Harry suddenly woke up, gasping heavily, his heartbeat echoing in his ears.
The pain in his forehead made him want to plunge his head into ice water. Through the haze, he heard Jane and Dumbledore conversing.
He found himself already in the headmaster's office.
...
Like someone startled from deathbed delirium.
Jane was rather startled when Harry suddenly sat up from the reclining chair, going from 180° to 90°.
"What did you dream about Voldemort?" she enquired. "I saw you sleeping, crying and laughing alternately, screaming one moment and quiet the next—"
But Harry immediately went from 90° sitting to standard standing position. He leapt off the reclining chair, one hand covering his forehead, his gaze distant:
"I fell asleep during the exam and had a dream! Voldemort—Voldemort—he—"
Jane couldn't be certain whether her perception was wrong—
But somehow she felt that Harry's mood after dreaming of Voldemort... seemed rather good?
She watched Harry scan the headmaster's office, finally spotting the Pensieve and rushing over to plunge his head into it.
The next second, he realised he was using it incorrectly, drew his wand to his temple, and drew a silvery memory into the Pensieve.
"You could simply tell us, Harry," Dumbledore couldn't help saying. "I'm right here."
Harry seemed to wake from a dream and shouted loudly:
"He... he wants to eat people! Jane, he wants to eat you!"
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