Chapter 228
Harry, Ron, and Hermione ran with all their might toward Albert, who was standing on the ground until he began to collapse, his body stained with blood and wounds visible on his face and hands.
Expressions of shock and fear were clear on their faces, but Hermione was the most terrified among them. As they approached, her breath was ragged from panic, and she knelt beside Albert, her eyes filled with tears. She grabbed him by the shoulders, shaking him gently as she said in a choked voice:
"What happened, Albert?! Are you okay?! Please, speak!"
Albert raised his head with difficulty, looking at her with eyes heavy with exhaustion, and managed a small smile to hide his pain. In a quiet, weak voice, he said:
"No... nothing happened... I'm fine..."
But before Hermione could continue her questions or anyone could understand what was happening, Albert suddenly fainted. His body collapsed into her arms, and his head fell upon her chest. Hermione screamed his name, shaking him lightly in an attempt to wake him, but his body felt very cold and his face was pale, making her tremble with intense anxiety.
Harry and Ron watched the scene and stood stunned for a moment before moving toward her. Harry said fearfully:
"Hermione, we have to do something! He's losing too much blood!"
At that moment, a heavy and familiar voice approached quickly. It was Hagrid, reaching the scene with his large strides and booming voice. He knelt beside them cautiously, the look of concern evident on his massive face, and said in a deep voice:
"What happened to him?! My god, he's in a terrible state!"
While everyone was trying to process the situation, Professor McGonagall appeared, advancing toward them quickly, her face serious and her eyes carefully studying Albert's condition. She said in a stern yet deeply concerned voice:
"Hagrid, take him to the castle immediately! We must get him to Madam Pomfrey at once. He needs immediate treatment!"
Without hesitation, Hagrid lifted Albert in his massive arms as if he were carrying a small child. Albert's body looked frail compared to Hagrid's size. Hermione stood beside them, crying bitterly, tears streaming down her cheeks. Ron placed a hand on her shoulder in an attempt to calm her, but his own trembling voice revealed his deep worry.
As they ran toward the castle, Dumbledore stood behind them for a moment, his features a mix of deep thought and intense concern. The words Harry had said about his vision echoed in his mind. It wasn't just a coincidence. Dumbledore was beginning to realize that Voldemort had indeed returned, and that the events in the maze were no ordinary test.
As they neared the castle gates, the entrance to the maze suddenly opened, and Fleur Delacour and Viktor Krum emerged.
Both looked exhausted and shocked, but their condition was nowhere near as dire as Albert's. Fleur, panting from the run, noticed Albert's state in Hagrid's arms. She placed her hand over her mouth in astonishment and said:
"What happened to him?! Is... is he alive?!"
Krum stared at Hagrid and Albert in silence, but he looked visibly troubled. Without waiting for a reply, Fleur turned to Dumbledore and said:
"Mr. Dumbledore, the maze... something very strange happened! We felt a strange magical force, as if it were ravaging the place!"
Dumbledore, who now seemed entirely certain of his suspicions, signaled them with his hand to calm down and said in a grave voice:
"Everything will be explained in due time. Now we must ensure Albert gets the necessary treatment. Let's move."
As they entered the castle, Hermione's voice calling Albert's name still echoed through the corridors, while Hagrid carried his body toward the hospital wing.
In the depths of the dark graveyard, Voldemort's anger rose like a flame, glowing in his burning red eyes. The atmosphere was thick with dread, and the echo of his angry footsteps rang through the abandoned tombs. Peter stood waiting, his body trembling with fear, watching his master approach with heavy steps. Peter tried to avoid Voldemort's eyes, but he felt the weight of his sharp gaze piercing his soul.
Suddenly, Voldemort stopped in front of Peter. He stared at him in silence for a moment before speaking in a deep, cold voice—a voice that carried a lethal threat:
"Give me your arm, Wormtail."
Peter hesitated for a moment, then felt a bit of relief seep into his heart. He thought for a second that his master might want to reward him or restore the hand he had sacrificed during the ritual to regain his body. With a trembling smile, Peter raised his right arm—the one he had cut earlier—and gave it to Voldemort, whispering:
"My Lord, it is a great honor..."
But Voldemort's next words stopped his smile in its tracks and turned his features into a mask of horrific shock:
"No... not that one. The left arm."
Peter froze, his body shaking with terror. But he could not refuse his master's request. Slowly, he raised his left arm and extended it toward Voldemort, feeling as though the blood in his veins was turning to ice. His hand was visibly shaking, but Voldemort did not care.
Voldemort raised his magic wand and pointed it at the crook of Peter's arm, where the Dark Mark was burned into his skin. He murmured some mysterious words, and soon the Mark began to glow with a fiery red light. Peter screamed in pain, but Voldemort showed no sympathy.
Something strange began to happen. From the burning Mark on Peter's arm, clouds of black smoke erupted, rising to the sky as if expressing their master's rage. The smoke twisted in the air menacingly, then gradually began to take shape. After a few moments, the smoke transformed into figures wearing black robes and golden masks, appearing one after another until the graveyard was filled with them.
The Death Eaters, Voldemort's followers, stood in organized rows; the coldness and evil reflected in their golden masks. Voldemort stood shrouded in his terrifying presence, surrounded by the Death Eaters who appeared with faces full of awe and shame. His voice, dripping with resentment and anger, cut through the silence with a threatening tone that terrified the heart.
He began his speech:
"I have returned... but look at you. Where were you when I was weak? Where was your loyalty when I vanished?" He looked around with his glowing red eyes, continuing with rising anger: "Some of you hid behind masks of deception, feigning innocence before the Ministry of Magic, while others chose cowardice and flight!! Even that scoundrel Karkaroff betrayed me. Is this the nature of your loyalty to me? Betrayal and cowardice?!"
Then he suddenly turned to one of them, who trembled under his searing gaze, before raising his wand and launching a curse that sent the man to the ground, writhing in pain. His screams filled the graveyard as Voldemort continued: "This is the fate of those who fail me. Do you think you are above punishment? No one betrays Lord Voldemort and escapes the penalty."
He stood with his imposing stature, staring at them as if carving their faces into his memory. He said sharply: "But let me tell you that despite everything, I have returned. Yes, returned stronger than I was, and nothing will stop me this time from achieving what I sought!!"
Then he pointed to a small vial next to him, saying: "Look at this blood. The blood of that cursed boy, Albert!! One of those who helped me return!! He was part of the rituals that restored me. I have used the blood of my enemy, the bone of my father, and a loyal servant's deed to rebuild what was destroyed!! To return to my power. Do you see? There is nothing that can prevent me from achieving what I want!"
With a harsher tone, he directed his gaze at the gathering and said: "Anyone who thinks of betraying me again... anyone who dares to stand against me... will end up like all those who died at my hands!!" He raised his wand again and launched a cruel curse at one of them until he fell motionless to the ground, a living lesson for anyone who doubted his words.
"Understand this well!" he said in a voice that had calmed slightly but remained full of threat. "I am the Dark Lord!! I am absolute power!! From this day forward, any hesitation!! Any betrayal!! Any weakness!! means death!!."
A terrible silence fell; no one dared to raise their head. Voldemort concluded his speech, saying: "The time of weakness and cowardice is over!! Now is the time of power, and my time. Remember that well!! Because I will remind those who forget... with this hand of mine!"
He left them weighted down by fear and terror, certain that the lesson of this night would remain carved in their minds forever.
To be continued....