I became Voldemort

A few minutes earlier, Cyrus closed the diary and brought both Draco and himself out of the memory space.

"Let's stop here for today, Draco."

Draco Malfoy let out a heavy breath, looking utterly exhausted.

"You've made great progress. I think even your father, Lucius, wouldn't do better than you in Occlumency," Cyrus sincerely praised him.

"I... I'm better than my father?"

This seemed to please Draco immensely, his expression a mix of surprise, delight, and disbelief.

"Much better than Lucius," Cyrus said with a smile. "He only has the advantage of age, but you're far ahead in terms of skill."

Perhaps Draco had never imagined himself surpassing his father one day. After all, while he was doted on in the Malfoy family, he actually held little power or authority. 

Lucius had always made every effort to maintain his imposing paternal image. 

He appeared stern and serious, carried himself with a tall and commanding presence, and his actions, in Draco's eyes, always seemed to involve significant matters. As for Draco, his realm of influence seemed limited to petty squabbles at school with that saintly Potter—pretending to be a Dementor to scare the boy, writing fake love letters to embarrass him, or faking an injury to deal with a mere beast…

Now that he thought about it, Draco found his past immaturity and foolishness laughable.

But now, everything was different!

Cyrus had said he had surpassed Lucius, and the Dark Lord himself had entrusted him with an incredibly arduous task!

He trusts me!

This phrase echoed repeatedly in Draco's mind. He could still recall how, not long ago, that terrifying Dark Lord had personally sought him out and commanded him to serve in his name.

Though he was afraid, he was also eager beyond measure.

—Achieving greatness was the aspiration of every ambitious Slytherin.

At this moment, Draco lowered his head to accept Cyrus's praise, but his eyes gleamed with light.

After the excitement, of course, came tension and fear. Being ordered to act against Cyrus was no simple matter. Fortunately, the Dark Lord himself had altered Draco's memories, ensuring that Cyrus would not detect any inconsistencies.

And indeed, the fabricated memory had proven flawless. During the lengthy sessions practicing Occlumency, Cyrus hadn't noticed anything amiss.

Of course, Draco hadn't found a single opportunity to act against Cyrus.

But today, this might be his last chance.

Thinking of this, Draco's breathing grew heavier. Wand in hand, his gaze swept over Cyrus every few seconds, searching for any weakness or opening.

Fate seemed to favor him. Because just as Draco was struggling to find an opportunity, Cyrus unexpectedly suggested they take a walk outside.

"Care to join me for a stroll by the Black Lake? I happen to have plans to meet Harry there," Cyrus said, casually placing his wand on the table. Draco immediately noticed this. His palms began to sweat, and he realized this was finally his chance!

"Of course…"

Draco nodded vigorously.

The two of them walked side by side. Along the way, Draco refrained from making any sudden moves, as several Ilvermorny students passing by the carriage would wave at Cyrus from afar. Even after leaving the carriage, there were plenty of Hogwarts students leisurely strolling around the Black Lake.

But today wasn't a holiday. Draco could afford to wait.

And the two dragons were absent today as well.

"By the way, Headmaster Cyrus, where's my aunt?" Draco asked, seemingly trying to prolong the conversation. He deliberately brought up Bellatrix.

In reality, Bellatrix had been absent for quite some time.

"She's busy with her own matters." Cyrus replied casually. "It seems Beauxbatons and Durmstrang are considering withdrawing from the tournament, but Dumbledore is insistent on continuing. As one of the judges, your aunt has been representing Ilvermorny in negotiations with the International Confederation of Wizards."

In truth, the Confederation itself had expressed strong reservations about continuing the Triwizard Tournament.

The collapse of the British Ministry of Magic and the sight of two black dragons fighting in the skies over London had already caused a major magical incident. 

If it hadn't been for Newt Scamander closely monitoring the tournament from the beginning and casting large-scale memory charms using his Swooping Evil and Thunderbird immediately after the second task, who knows how far the situation might have escalated!

Fortunately, the British aren't fans of umbrellas.

"Beauxbatons and Durmstrang want to end the tournament?" Draco asked, puzzled.

"Madame Maxime seems quite dissatisfied with the current state of the tournament. Adding to that, the last champion standing for Beauxbatons, Fleur Delacour, plans to forfeit. Even if the tournament continues, Beauxbatons won't have a qualified representative. For this reason, she's demanded that Beauxbatons be allowed to add an additional champion, or else they'll withdraw entirely and declare that they'll never participate in the Triwizard Tournament again."

Cyrus explained the situation to Draco.

On the other hand, Durmstrang's Grindelwald had his own clear motives.

Grindelwald's goal was to alter the prophecy. 

Since Voldemort had failed to kill Cyrus at the Department of Mysteries, the prophecy was bound to unfold.

However, if the tournament were to be terminated, the future Grindelwald foresaw would never come to pass.

"Will the tournament be canceled?" Draco asked.

"Of course not."

Cyrus replied with a cold smile.

"Both Dumbledore and I believe Voldemort will personally participate in the third task. Otherwise, where do you think Beauxbatons' additional champion came from?"

"You mean… the Dark Lord?" Draco asked cautiously. "But why would Beauxbatons have anything to do with the Dark Lord?"

"That's because the Dark Lord has already taken control of Beauxbatons. Do you think the current Madame Maxime is truly Madame Maxime?" Cyrus explained. "His disguise is indeed impressive. At first, neither Dumbledore nor I noticed anything wrong. But the longer it goes on, the more cracks appear."

As Cyrus said this, he seemed to glance at Draco, almost intentionally.

Draco's mind raced with countless thoughts in that moment.

Draco wondered if he had already been exposed.

But regardless, this was both the best and the last opportunity.

His Occlumency training had been successful, Cyrus wasn't holding his wand, and if he missed this chance, his mission was likely doomed to fail.

Gazing at the shimmering surface of the Black Lake under the setting sun, Draco knew it was now or never—he had to take the gamble.

It's simple. Just one spell…

He took a deep breath, repeatedly telling himself it wasn't hard, trying to steady his trembling hands.

He doesn't have his wand. I'll succeed!

No matter how skilled he is, without a wand, it's useless. And I only need to cast one spell…

No, perhaps I can kill him!

Draco's eyes turned fierce.

Act now, and then escape immediately with the Portkey. This is the Black Lake—Hogwarts' anti-Apparition enchantments don't affect this place.

Draco raised his wand, staring at Cyrus's back.

____________

Read 12 Chapters ahead:

Patreon: HornyFBI