Voldemort did not know that Dumbledore's apparent indifference had very little to do with mercy—and everything to do with Arthur.
In Dumbledore's view, Voldemort had been defeated by Hermione and captured by Arthur. How he should be dealt with was therefore Arthur's decision. At most, Dumbledore could offer a bit of advice from the sidelines.
After all, given Arthur's temperament, there was no way he would tolerate an old man pointing fingers and telling him what to do.
When Arthur had earlier asked Dumbledore how Voldemort should be handled, it had really been nothing more than a courtesy.
If Dumbledore truly tried to oppose him head-on, he would have to seriously consider whether his aging bones could withstand an attack even fiercer than Hermione's beating of Voldemort just now.
Arthur shook his head and said, "You can't kill him."
Before Voldemort could even feel a flicker of relief, Arthur continued, "You have no personal grudge against him. No matter how you look at it, it's not your place to do it. This kind of thing should be left to Harry—or to your godfather."
Voldemort had murdered Harry's parents, and Lily had been Snape's childhood sweetheart.
By that reckoning, both of them had every right to hate Voldemort.
Neville wasn't present, otherwise that chubby kid would probably have been qualified to stab Voldemort a couple of times as well—after all, his parents had been tortured into permanent insanity because of Voldemort.
Harry had been standing off to the side, quietly watching the drama unfold. He hadn't expected to suddenly be dragged into it.
As far as Voldemort was concerned, Harry's hatred ran bone-deep.
Now that he learned he might personally end his mortal enemy, Harry couldn't help feeling eager.
He looked at Arthur and asked, "Really? I can do that?"
Arthur nodded. "Of course. I think Dumbledore would agree as well."
Harry turned to Dumbledore. Dumbledore nodded back, signaling his approval of Arthur's view.
Strictly speaking, this did disrupt Dumbledore's original plan.
He had intended to let Harry grow, gain experience, mature—only then letting him face the act of killing.
But… it didn't really matter.
After all, in a very strict sense, Harry had started killing back in his first year.
That unlucky Quirrell—Harry had simply pressed both hands on him and burned him straight into a pile of ashes. Truly miserable.
Speaking of Dumbledore, Arthur suddenly became curious about what he had wanted to say to Voldemort earlier.
He asked, "By the way, Headmaster—what were you trying to say to Voldemort just now?"
Dumbledore shook his head. He had originally intended to reminisce with Voldemort a little.
But judging from Voldemort's attitude, he clearly wasn't in a communicative mood.
Since Voldemort was unwilling to cooperate, Dumbledore had no interest in continuing.
If Arthur knew what Dumbledore had been thinking, he would probably have teased him mercilessly.
Voldemort's mind had long since been twisted by repeated acts of soul-splitting.
Trying to hold a calm conversation with someone mentally unstable was, frankly, a rather farcical idea.
That said, the old bumblebee often spouted his own brand of madness—who knew, maybe he really could have chatted with Voldemort on the same wavelength.
Still, there was another matter Dumbledore cared deeply about.
"The Horcruxes," Dumbledore said. "I want to ask him about the Horcruxes."
If Voldemort's Horcruxes were not dealt with, killing him now would be meaningless.
He would simply revive again through another anchor.
Arthur raised an eyebrow. "You're sure he'd tell you voluntarily?"
"I'm sure he won't," Dumbledore replied calmly. "That's why I'll need your help."
Arthur pointed at himself. "Me? Doing what?"
Dumbledore said, "What you used on Barty Crouch Jr. before."
Arthur understood at once and nodded. "Alright."
In truth, Arthur already knew the whereabouts of most of Voldemort's Horcruxes—and had already destroyed them.
There was only one exception.
In the original timeline, that Horcrux had been Nagini.
But now, Nagini had long since become a carefree little snake living peacefully in Arthur's Zen Garden.
Arthur didn't even know whether Voldemort had managed to create a substitute Horcrux in her place.
This final, unknown Horcrux intrigued him greatly.
So he repeated the same procedure he had once used on Barty Crouch Jr.
First, he beat Voldemort until he was thoroughly disoriented. Then, he placed him under hypnosis.
Yet after Voldemort's expression grew dazed and unfocused, no matter how they questioned him, the answer was always the same:
"I don't know."
This made Arthur seriously wonder whether his hypnosis had failed.
But when Arthur asked about other things, Voldemort answered truthfully.
Which made Arthur deeply curious.
Could mental illness actually function as a kind of natural defense against leaking secrets?
Seeing that they couldn't extract the Horcrux information, Arthur lifted the hypnosis.
Once Voldemort regained clarity, he sneered. "Hah. Well? Couldn't get anything, could you?"
"I prepared for this long ago. Stop wasting your time."
"Go on. Kill me."
Although being captured immediately after resurrection was humiliating, Voldemort was not someone who couldn't accept defeat.
As long as a Horcrux remained, he still had a chance to rise again.
Waiting another ten or twenty years meant nothing—after all, he had already achieved a twisted form of immortality.
Arthur nodded thoughtfully. "Mm. True, we didn't get the Horcrux location."
"But at least we learned that you still wet the bed when you were twelve. And also—"
Arthur calmly listed, one by one, all the embarrassing childhood secrets Voldemort had revealed under hypnosis.
This single maneuver shattered Voldemort's composure completely.
He had never imagined that Arthur would play so dirty.
Who hypnotizes their enemy just to dig up childhood humiliation?!
Voldemort roared, completely losing control. "You've gone too far! I've tolerated you for long enough! Untie me—fight me one on one!"
He was so enraged that he had started talking nonsense.
There was, of course, no chance Arthur would actually release him.
No one paid Voldemort's fury any attention.
Dumbledore asked from the side, "Since hypnosis didn't work… should we try Veritaserum?"
Arthur glanced at him. "You're not worried about him anymore?"
As he spoke, Arthur pointed toward Fudge, who was still frozen in place nearby.
Earlier, when Arthur had proposed using Veritaserum on Barty Crouch Jr., Fudge had nearly jumped out of his skin.
Yet now, facing Voldemort, Dumbledore had suggested it himself.
Dumbledore shrugged. "He's about to step down anyway. I doubt he has the energy to care about us breaking the rules now."
Arthur nodded. That made sense.
He turned to Snape. "You or me?"
Both of them carried Veritaserum. The question was simply who would administer it.
"I will," Snape said flatly.
He reached into his expanded bag and pulled out a bottle of Veritaserum.
Ever since his storeroom had suffered repeated thefts, Snape had acquired an enormous expanded bag.
Most of his valuable herbs and potions were now kept on his person, just in case.
Seeing the bottle, Dumbledore hesitated. "Severus… are you sure you didn't take the wrong one?"
The bottle Snape held was a full liter—and completely filled.
Dumbledore distinctly remembered that Snape's Veritaserum bottles used to be no bigger than a pocket watch.
After all, three drops were enough to make even the strongest-willed person speak the truth.
Snape popped the cork and held it toward Dumbledore. "Care to test it yourself?"
Dumbledore shook his head vigorously.
What he didn't know was that the herbs Snape had planted in Arthur's Zen Garden were practically overflowing.
Snape regularly had to process huge batches—naturally by brewing them into potions.
As a result, his potion reserves were now absurdly abundant, filling nearly an entire wall at home.
Which was why he'd grown… generous.
For example, right now, he poured nearly half the bottle straight into Voldemort's mouth.
Even Arthur, watching from the side, felt worried.
Would Voldemort get drunk from this?
Veritaserum blurred consciousness to a certain degree—much like hypnosis—placing the subject in a hazy mental state.
With that much poured in, Voldemort was probably already hallucinating.
After Snape finished, Arthur repeated the same questions.
The result was identical to before.
Regarding the Horcruxes, Voldemort still knew nothing.
But his childhood embarrassments?
He recited them all again—this time with bonus details.
Seeing this, Arthur had no choice but to prematurely neutralize the Veritaserum.
Otherwise, when Harry killed him later, Voldemort might not even react.
Once Voldemort regained clarity, he immediately started spewing trash talk again.
He sneered. "I told you already—it's useless. I sealed those memories away. You'll never learn where my Horcruxes are."
"Just wait. When I revive again through them, that will be the day you all die."
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