NABC Ch326- Fake Voldemort!
Ch326- Fake Voldemort!
Ch326- Fake Voldemort!
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Bellatrix, emboldened by his apparent approval, stood slowly, her knees shaky. Her eyes, however, burned with fervent energy. “My Lord,” she began hesitantly, wringing her hands, “forgive me, but... how? How have you... recovered?”
Harry paused, glancing over his shoulder at her. “Recovered?” he repeated, buying time as his mind raced. He didn’t know what she’d seen or believed about Voldemort’s state, but he couldn’t afford to show ignorance. He turned fully to face her, tilting his head slightly as if evaluating her question.
“Yes,” she said quickly, her words tumbling over each other. “When I left you in Albania... you were not... you were—” She faltered, as if struggling to describe what she had seen. “You were... diminished,” she settled on finally, her voice lowering into a near-whisper. “Barely able to speak. Barely able to... to survive.”
Harry’s thoughts sharpened. Albania. That made sense—Quirrell had been there before his possession, after all. Voldemort must have been hiding there. Harry’s mind pieced the fragments together: Quirrell’s altered behavior after his travels, and now this. Voldemort had been in Albania, and Bellatrix had been there with him after her escape from Azkaban.
“And yet,” she continued, her voice trembling slightly with awe, “here you are. Restored... powerful... magnificent.” She took a step closer, her hands trembling as if she wanted to touch him but didn’t dare. “How, my Lord? How did you regain your strength?”
Harry schooled his expression, his mind racing for an answer. If he admitted ignorance, she might question him. He needed to lead her into revealing more. “Bellatrix,” he said smoothly, his voice adopting a tone of mild reprimand, “do you doubt my power? My ability to overcome even the greatest of obstacles?”
Her eyes widened, and she immediately dropped to her knees again, bowing her head so low it almost touched the floor. “Never, my Lord!” she cried. “Forgive me for my foolishness. I could never doubt you.”
“Good,” Harry said curtly, crossing his arms as he watched her grovel. “But I am curious, Bellatrix. When you left me in Albania, what was your role?”
She hesitated, her forehead still pressed to the floor. “I... I was to serve you, my Lord,” she admitted. “To gather the item... to ensure your rise while you recovered your strength.”
“And yet you left,” Harry pointed out, his tone sharp. “Why?”
Harry waited a beat, then continued, “This item is a Horcrux. I sealed part of my soul inside it, ensuring that even Death couldn’t take me from the realm of the living.”
Bellatrix’s hands trembled slightly as they lowered from her mouth. “A Horcrux...” she whispered, almost reverently. Her mind raced through the implications, piecing together scraps of knowledge from ancient texts she had studied in her youth. Soul magic was considered the pinnacle of the dark arts—a realm so dangerous and complex that even the most skilled practitioners feared it. Yet here he was, speaking of it as if it were a matter of strategy.
“You—” she hesitated, licking her lips nervously, “you defied death, my Lord. Of course you did. Only you could master such magic.”
Harry made no effort to confirm or deny her flattery. Instead, he studied her. “This cup,” he said, holding it up slightly, “is more than just a trinket, Bella. It represents my foresight and my power. By entrusting you with it, I demonstrated my faith in your abilities. Yet...” He let the word hang, allowing the weight of his disappointment to settle in the air.
Bellatrix froze, her wide eyes locked on him as her breath caught. “My Lord, I—”
Harry shook his head, cutting Bellatrix off before her stammering could descend into further pleading. "The wraith you saw in Albania," he began, his tone sharp enough to silence her immediately, "was a fragment—an escaped part of my soul. Not my main body. Do you honestly think I would descend into something so unsightly?"
Harry didn’t know exactly what form Voldemort had taken when Bellatrix last saw him, but her earlier words about him "recovering" when they first appeared in the hideout gave him a hint. Coupling that with his own encounter with the wraith-like form in his first year, he decided to take a calculated gamble.
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