Hogwarts: Even Voldemort Can't Stop Me From Studying

Chapter 614: Chapter 5: The Manor, the Bat, and the Black Dog (2)

Gall drank the blood and licked the leaves clean, then transformed into a bat and flew towards the haunted house.

He didn’t actually feel there was any danger inside, he just wanted to trick some blood for drinking.

For a magical creature like Gall, who knows some Magic and possesses Vampire abilities, places where Wizards live are quite obvious; you can feel the awkwardness from miles away.

If a Wizard turns their dwelling into ruins, they will surely cast various Expel Curses nearby, driving away not only Muggles but also dark magical creatures like Vampires.

In other words, a house he could approach smoothly most likely has nothing to do with a Wizard.

Gall reasoned in this way, didn’t make many detours, and approached the old house without worry, then silently landed on the manor’s wall.

Just as he thought, Gall didn’t sense the power of Magic, the old house was deserted and looked like it had been abandoned for a long time.

However, the manor wasn’t completely uninhabited—there was a shabby little wooden house in the courtyard, from which came the jingle of clinking sounds.

The bat glided down from the high wall, lightly hanging outside the window of the wooden house, and peeked inside through the cracks with its round black eyes.

Inside the house was a seventy or eighty-year-old Muggle, limping around the room, laboriously boiling water and roasting chops, seemingly preparing dinner for himself.

The chops sizzled in the frying pan, releasing a tempting aroma; the old Muggle flipped the chops with a spatula and sprinkled some dark seasoning over them.

——Very good.

Gall eyed the bulging veins on the old Muggle’s neck and hands, thinking: Now I’ve got dinner, just like the Wizard deceiver.

He knew clearly that such a reclusive old man was like the homeless in the city, even if he died without a sound or disappeared, few would care.

The bat opened its mouth, revealing rows of fine sharp teeth, its claws ready to loosen the window ledge above.

He was ready to slip inside, turn back into human form, and feast heartily before anything else.

But just as Gall was about to do so, a keen nerve suddenly twitched, making his body hair stand on end.

He saw the old Muggle prepare to scoop out the chops, his hand accidentally touching the hot edge of the pan, yet he seemed unaffected by the heat and still picked up the pan.

The bat was so shocked he almost fell, he leaned closer, thinking: Is it possible that what’s inside isn’t a person, but a Ghoul that looks human?

He watched and watched, then suddenly heard a voice beside his ear: ”Imperio!”

Gall instantly forgot everything, only felt his soul becoming light, his heart devoid of worries and woes.

He mindlessly fell from the window, transforming back into human form, with a bewildered, silly smile on his face.

”What’s going on?”

A cold, sharp voice asked.

”Master, a Vampire has broken in.” Someone said respectfully.

”Check his brain... see who sent him...”

”Mind Reading!”

Frames of images flashed through Gall’s mind like a movie, but he immersed in unknown joy, completely disregarding it.

”Turns out it’s that Azkaban escapee.” The man said with some surprise: ”He actually ran here... He has a companion outside.”

...

A line of ants marched in orderly queue, wiggling their antennae, climbing up and down the cracks on the tree bark.

Behind the tree, Lockhart plucked the burdock that somehow stuck to his clothes, occasionally poking his head out to take a look.

About ten minutes later, he saw Gall open the manor’s side door, stand by the door and generously waved signaling him to also come in.

——Looks like it’s just an abandoned old house, probably no one inside.

Lockhart thought so, feeling relieved, and quickly walked over.

After they both entered the manor, the bushes rustled again, and a big Black Dog emerged silently, covered in burdock.

He was about to head towards the manor when he suddenly heard voices nearby. Sirius immediately crouched low, hiding behind the bushes.

”You’ve done well, Wormtail.” Said someone in a cold voice: ”Offering your two companions to the master sufficiently proves your loyalty.”

Upon hearing the name ”Wormtail,” Sirius instinctively bared his teeth, claws firmly grasping the soil, his expression full of murder intent.

He wished nothing more than to leap out immediately and tear open that traitor’s throat, but the content of the conversation compelled Sirius to hold back.

”Master... will the master forgive me?” A familiar, timid voice trembled, nervously explaining: ”My heart always wanted to turn to the master, Barty... I, I didn’t know the Potter Family had such powerful Magic back then...”

The Black Dog squatted in the dark corner, muscles trembling beneath his fur, ready to explode at any moment. He struggled to suppress any growl, eyes like burning embers, flickering ominously.

Barty spoke loftily: ”Not enough, Wormtail, you know offering up two useless prisoners isn’t sufficient... But if you help the Dark Lord resurrect, the Dark Lord will not only forgive your transgressions but also grant you unimaginable glory.”

”Resurrect?”

Wormtail gasped nervously, breathing rapidly and chaotically, before asking: ”What do I need to do?”

”The master’s resurrection requires some materials; Wormtail, you can be of help.” Barty Crouch Jr said.

Wormtail breathed a sigh of relief, asking: ”Okay, what materials are needed? I can steal them back...”

”Not regular materials.” Barty said: ”The Dark Lord needs the father’s bone, servant’s flesh, enemy’s blood...”

”...Servant, servant’s flesh?” Wormtail’s voice was like the buzzing of mosquitoes, crying: ”I, I naturally willing to offer... Which part of flesh does the master need?”

”Do you qualify, Wormtail?” Barty said contemptuously: ”Do you qualify to let the master use your flesh for resurrection? Huh? You filthy, lowly thing...”

Wormtail sobbed, unsure whether feeling humiliated or relieved.

”Enemy’s blood, Wormtail, you must offer the master the enemy’s blood—that is Harry Potter!” Barty said generously: ”If you fail, you know what kind of punishment awaits you...”

”Harry Potter?” Wormtail said fearfully: ”But... Dumbledore has him protected tightly...”

”There’s an opportunity, Wormtail...”

Barty’s voice suddenly lowered, as if using some sort of sound-muffling spell. The Black Dog couldn’t help but ear close to the ground, straining to hear, yet he heard nothing.

He waited and waited, after a long time, he could no longer bear it, silently circled around the bushes, around the trees, heading towards where the voices came.

But he saw nothing.

No ”Barty,” no Wormtail, not even traces of their presence.

The Black Dog lowered his head, searching around for a while, finally confirming from some broken grass that someone indeed stood here before, the voices were not his own illusion.

He turned his head, gray eyes staring at the nearby manor for quite a while.

The Vampire and Lockhart who ran inside never came out again, nor any sounds were heard.

That plain Muggle Manor seemed to have turned into a monster that eats people.

Sirius wanted to drag out Wormtail; he had tracked so long, never been so close to that rat.

But thinking of the explosive intelligence he just overheard, Sirius ultimately refrained from recklessly rushing into the manor, circled around for a while, then decisively turned to run into the forest.

He needed to run to a far enough distance, then Apparate, bringing the intelligence to Dumbledore.

...

Watching the Black Dog leave, Lock hanging from the tree also faintly felt a sense of relief—even though he didn’t need to breathe.

Naturally, there were no ”Wormtail” and ”Barty” in the forest; everything Sirius heard were deliberately delivered intelligence by Lock playing both parts.

It’s a Poppet, devoid of scent, heartbeat, breath; as long as it doesn’t speak or move, hiding in the tree, Sirius would never find it.

However, Voldemort was already occupying the Riddle Manor, Lock’s plan of running a thousand miles to dig up bones was thwarted.

——Or maybe not?

Lock crouched owl-like on the tree, staring at the distant manor, replaying the intelligence about the ”future” received from the master in its mind.

It thought: I must go back... I need the Cube’s help.