Chapter 670 - The Master’s Return Ⅴ

From the past, a large, overweight man with a thick beard appears wearing a red velvet blazer with golden buckles underneath a black tailcoat, and trousers with black and brown geometric diamond design pattern appear in Nagini's mind. A jeering crowd appears behind Skender, (the Owner of the Circus Arcanus).

The scoffing, booming voice of Skender said, "Next in our little show of freaks and oddities, I present to you, a Maledictus. Once trapped in the jungles of Indonesia."

Skender's voice abruptly becomes faint, and Nagini leans forward craning her neck in vain attempting to listen closer. She knew what he said was important, but she could no longer remember what it was that she needed to recall. Yet despite her best efforts, she is unable to hear the rest of the words and visibly flinches back as Skender's voice returns in full volume. "But look at her. So beautiful. Yes. So desirable."

Nagini blinks and recalls her newly founded kin calling her, beautiful. Turning her head, Nagini sees his crimson serpent eyes staring at her with such coldness. A trace of shame, guilt, and a whisker of unease cause her serpent scales to tighten for a brief second. It was a haunting familiar sensation and one that she knew she had once felt long ago.

And just as sudden, Nagini sees him. The pale one with dark hair, and equally dark eyes, who haunted her dreams. The one who saved her and made her heart sing. She could almost hear his voice and his name-.

"Nagini!" Voldemort roared and the precious memories that had gathered together like a flock of birds burst into the sky leaving Nagini frantically lunging at them, but unable to catch hold of even one of the fleeing memories. And leaving once more her bereavement of that which she so desperately sought and desired.

Seeing the poisonous serpent snapping madly at her, Dolores Umbridge did not hesitate and shouted the Severing Charm at the serpent before her. "Diff-."

"Avada Kedavra," Voldemort interjected even faster with his wand sharply pointed at the pudgy witch. He would not permit for Nagini to be slain! She was-, she belonged to him. Find authorized novels in , faster updates, better experience, Please click #%E2%80%99s-return-%E2%85%B4_52028351023465288 for visiting.

Dolores was unable to finish casting the spell as a green light burst forth from the tip of Voldemort's wand and smashed into her. Sheer terror gripped her as she frantically clung to life feeling her cooling body plummeting to the ground, and her wand slipping from her hand, before falling to the forest floor. Screaming in her mind, but unable to voice her fears as her body no longer complies with her wishes. Violently she is wretched away, before being pulled into complete and utter darkness.

Perhaps due to the lighting or simply the fact that neither Voldemort nor Runcorn paid no attention to the cooling corpse of Dolores Umbridge as it was beneath them. The two wizards failed to notice the smoke like Hydra rune that emerged from her still corpse and dissipated instantly into the night. A profound mistake on their part that they would unknowingly come to regret in the future to come.

Albert Runcorn eyes the figure of Voldemort with a contemplative expression. "The Killing Curse? I wonder if you are truly as learned and as powerful as you claim to be, Voldemort," Runcorn drily stated dropping all cordial pretenses.

"And what exactly are you implying with those words, Runcorn?" Voldemort frigidly hissed impatiently his fingers curled around his wand once more.

A slow and steady, cold smile appears on Runcorn's face. "In your maddened search for power, did you ever pause to wonder why exactly the Killing Curse was considered an Unforgivable Curse, Voldemort?"

Voldemort's crimson snake eyes narrow dangerously into slits at Runcorn's words. "Because of weak-minded fools, who ought to have known better."

"True enough," Runcorn observed with a smug gleam in his eyes. "But there is one forgotten tale that many no longer recall, and it is that those who cast the Killing Curse are all in turn touched by Death."

Runcorn paused at seeing Voldemort's scoffing expression. "You think it a fool's tale, but every single witch or wizard that has ever cast that curse has never died peacefully in their bed. A life for a life, so to speak, and Death has never failed to claim the outstanding debt."

"A mere children's tale," Voldemort attempted to scoff away, but there was a slight furrow across his forehead that gave him away.

"Mm, but not all tales are mere myths and legends," Runcorn coolly noted. "And even the tallest of tales hold a grain of truth to them, Voldemort. You would do well to remember that considering that which you have done."

Voldemort's eyes widen in a momentary moment of surprise, before flashing with unbridled fury. "Is that a threat, Runcorn?"

"No, merely an astute observation," Runcorn calmly replied. "All pureblood wizarding children recall the Tales of Beedle, the Bard. And there are those of us that know that there is some truth to the tale of The Warlock's, Hairy Heart."

Runcorn paused and ran his eyes contemptuously over the figure of Voldemort. "And considering your past actions, it does not take much to piece the truth together. And Dark Lord, you most certainly did leave a trail behind, twisting and winding even, but there is a trail to be found. Might I suggest being more cautious in the future considering our temporary alliance?"

"Temporary?" Voldemort roared in outrage. "Did you not swear yourself to me, Runcorn?!"

"I swore to nothing," Runcorn vehemently contradicted, "you would do well to remember that Voldemort."

Seeing Voldemort's livid expression, Runcorn continues, "I swore a vow of silence on that which we spoke and compromised upon, but nothing more. And I will be beholden to no man, and Dark Lord, you have yet to prove yourself worthy of my permanent alliance. I have seen nothing as of yet to indicate that allying myself with thee will grant me that which I so profoundly desire."

Voldemort did not take well to being threatened as the wand in his spider-like fingers twitched with suppressed wrath. "You will live to regret this, Runcorn," Voldemort promised.

"I think not," Runcorn confidently declared. "And considering that in an unexplainable fit of folly, you have slain your only source within the Ministry of Magic, Dark Lord. You will most certainly return and seek the services which only I can provide."

There is a tense moment of silence as Voldemort although enraged is not able to counter the words which Runcorn had spoken. For the first time in an exceedingly long time, a spear of cold logic pierced through the fog of perpetual rage that enshrouded him. At that moment, Voldemort found himself adrift and startled, but more importantly questioning himself, why he chose to punish rather than reward such a valuable informant? And for the first time ever, he sensed that there was something not quite right about himself.

Feeling uncertain and adjected, Voldemort abruptly turns away and hoarsely hisses, "Nagini!" The large, poisonous serpent follows closely after and vanishes into the tangled, mat of bushes and shrubs.

Runcorn coolly shakes his head and turns away to depart, but all the while keeping one eye on his back and with his wand carefully in hand. He had not survived thus far without being overcautious. It had saved his life on more than one occasion. And he trusted no one especially those he called allies. Because only those closest to oneself can betray. It is a stark truth that is the most commonly overlooked.