I became Voldemort

Chapter 180: Barty Crouch Jr.

"I am certainly not Dumbledore's favorite student!"

Newt seemed to experience a flash of PTSD as his body trembled at the sight of Cyrus, as if he were suddenly transported back to that night in Paris. 

The man with slicked-back white hair held a wand with distinct knuckles, his eyes filled with disdain and loathing, and the ghostly blue flames burned intensely.

Even Cyrus was momentarily stunned and then blinked. "Of course, I know that. Now, Dumbledore's favorite student is Harry Potter. Also—do I really look that much like Grindelwald?"

Newt blinked, the shadow of Grindelwald before his eyes becoming blurry, and then Cyrus's figure came into sharp focus.

He realized that Cyrus did not look much like Grindelwald at all. Though both were handsome, Grindelwald had a more erratic temperament, and most importantly, Grindelwald despised him.

Still, Newt found this person before him very familiar and dangerous.

Feeling a bit awkward, Newt turned his head, his gaze worriedly focusing on the dark wizards he had been tailing.

"Don't worry, they can't see us here right now," Cyrus said softly.

Before approaching, he had cast a protective spell, creating a shield invisible from the other side, much like how Muggles couldn't see the Leaky Cauldron.

This spell was effective even against wizards.

"Sorry, but who are you?"

Cyrus hadn't answered yet when Tina's brow furrowed. She gripped her wand tightly, ready for a fight at any moment.

"Aren't you Tom Riddle?! The criminal wanted by the Ministry of Magic!"

Cyrus's "crimes" were indeed notorious: creating the Chamber of Secrets incident, breaking out of Azkaban, bombing the Scottish coast, robbing Gringotts...

With such a dangerous person, Tina naturally recognized the name.

Hearing the name, Newt instinctively reached for his suitcase.

"You're too tense, Mr. Scamander," Cyrus said, pressing his palm downward. Newt's suitcase suddenly slipped from his grasp and, with a gesture from Cyrus, slid a bit farther away.

"I mean no harm," Cyrus said sincerely.

"Yes, I can see that," Newt replied, staring at the suitcase that Cyrus had pushed away.

This display of wandless magic brought back memories Newt had tried hard to forget.

He didn't need to think twice; without his suitcase, he and Tina together probably weren't a match for this young-looking wizard.

"So, Mr. Riddle, what do you need from me?"

Newt asked, showing the composure of someone who had seen many storms.

He didn't know that the name "Tom Riddle" belonged to the Dark Lord, and even if he did, he wouldn't necessarily be afraid.

"For the sake of your animal friends," Cyrus replied, as straightforward as ever.

Lies are a weak man's disguise. When a person lies, no matter how strong or high-ranking he is, he is in a weak position, needing lies to achieve his goal.

Cyrus didn't need any of that now.

Hearing Cyrus's words, Newt's expression didn't change much, but there was already a hint of detachment and disdain in his eyes.

Newt had always regarded the magical creatures he raised as family and friends.

However, most wizards in this world only saw them as tools or magical materials.

Of course, Newt didn't oppose using parts of magical creatures to brew potions or for other purposes.

Making full use of resources is essential; even wizards use their own body parts, like blood and hair, in potion-making.

But too many dark wizards do not care about the creatures' lives when extracting magical materials, drawing large amounts of blood, removing hearts, or even conducting magical experiments that result in the creatures' deaths—

He clearly saw Cyrus as one of those people.

However, in reality, Cyrus took good care of the two dragons he kept in his box. He almost never used them for magical experiments, except for occasionally cutting a palm-sized piece of dragon hide, which would heal within an hour for the dragon.

Unfortunately, the dragon in the Gringotts underground vault was already old and had endured a dangerous battle, now it was almost at the end of its life.

"Magical creatures are not your property, sir. I will not allow you to harm them!" Newt's attitude was very firm. Although he knew he might not be a match for Cyrus, he never considered surrendering.

Moreover, while he might not be able to fight, his animal friends were not to be underestimated!

Cyrus glanced at the inconspicuous suitcase. It was filled with countless 5X-rated magical creatures.

If they all went berserk, unless he used large-scale destructive spells directly, even Cyrus might have trouble handling them all at once.

Just this suitcase alone probably had enough power to bring down a country's Ministry of Magic.

Who knew how many dragons or thunderbirds were inside?

"It seems there's a bit of a misunderstanding between us, but let's explain that later." Cyrus pushed the suitcase back, then looked behind Newt. "Those poachers have started moving."

Newt took the suitcase, turned his head, and indeed saw a wizard with a veiled face approaching.

This person was likely one of the buyers for the smuggled magical creatures.

"Let's hope he leads us to where the poachers are holding the magical creatures." Newt didn't bother to continue talking to Cyrus, instinctively crouching down to hide.

However, he was frustrated that both groups of wizards were very cautious, speaking so quietly that he couldn't hear their conversation at all.

"Let's hear them, shall we?~"

Cyrus cast a spell, and a raspy voice came through.

"Where's my stuff?!" This voice was deliberately lowered; the buyer didn't want to reveal his identity.

"You want a Graphorn, and I can't just carry it in my hand. It's all on the ship, and docking isn't safe." The poacher chuckled lightly.

"Take me there!" The wizard was eager and impatient.

"Don't rush. Three thousand Galleons, I need fifteen hundred first," the poacher grinned, noticing the wizard's reluctance.

He didn't care and continued, "Catching that big guy isn't easy. Its skin is tougher than a dragon's, and its horn pierced one of our team members' stomachs. If it weren't for the essence of dittany... Of course, these losses won't be on you."

"Hmph, here's two thousand Galleons!"

The dark wizard unhappily tossed a bag over. The poacher took it without showing any trust and immediately threw it to his subordinate for inspection.

They not only had to verify the amount but also check if the Galleons were genuine. They had encountered cases where people used counterfeit currency to cheat them.

"They're all real."

After confirming the authenticity, the poacher didn't raise the price. They had been in this business long enough to maintain some rules, unlike some who were unruly.

"Come on." He gestured, leading the dark wizard into the crowd, and they vanished instantly.

Cyrus watched them, seeing clearly how they kept changing their appearances, likely passing by someone as one person and emerging as someone entirely different the next moment. 

After about ten minutes, Newt stepped out. He was about to take out some tracking powder to trace their movements when Cyrus simply waved his wand.

"Traceless Tracking?" Tina muttered.

Golden footprints appeared and disappeared before their eyes, stretching towards a secluded path.

"Let's go, Mr. Scamander."

Without waiting for Newt and Tina's reactions, Cyrus followed the footprints directly.

The footprints extended all the way to a desolate, elevated sea cliff before disappearing. Cyrus, Newt, and Tina stood at the cliff's edge, where the view was excellent but there was no sign of the poachers.

"Apparition?"

"No, it should be a Portkey." Cyrus could sense the difference in the magical residue left in the air compared to Apparition.

While both are forms of transportation spells, Portkeys are much more strictly regulated due to their stability and ability to cover greater distances, even across continents.

"Smuggling magical creatures and illegally creating Portkeys... I think even their lives wouldn't be enough to pay for such crimes," Tina shook her head helplessly.

In reality, it's common for poachers to make Portkeys; you can't expect them to travel properly via the Floo Network.

She suddenly remembered something and looked at Newt. "How did you get to America back then?"

"Ehm, I bought a ship ticket," Newt said a bit awkwardly.

He had committed his share of illegal acts, nearly being sentenced to death by the American wizarding authorities. These memories were embarrassing. "It looks like their cargo ship might be far away."

Portkeys, unlike Apparition, are more challenging to trace. However, for Cyrus, this wasn't a problem.

Cyrus closed his eyes and sensed the spatial distortions. In the next moment, he had pinpointed the location.

"They must have made several jumps in between. Hold onto me."

Without waiting for Newt's reaction, Cyrus grabbed his arm. Tina quickly grabbed Newt's shoulder, her voice trembling, "You're going to Apparate directly—"

Before she could finish, the three of them were stretched into a long line, twisted like a rubber band being pulled tight!

Pop!

The space closed.

...

Albania, it was quite a place.

Voldemort had almost made it his personal stronghold, but that was out of necessity. Besides here, he had nowhere else to go for the time being.

At this moment, he was filled with hatred, cursing Cyrus and Dumbledore.

But soon, he calmed down again.

The situation wasn't so dire. At least his current state proved that Cyrus hadn't destroyed all his Horcruxes.

At least one remained, and he had preemptively moved Riddle's bones. The potion for his resurrection was also being prepared, and he was just one step away from being reborn.

Now, he needed an assistant!

"Lucius?" A figure popped into Voldemort's mind, but he quickly shook his head. Lucius had once been a trusted subordinate; otherwise, Voldemort wouldn't have entrusted him with his diary.

But Lucius had disappointed him too much.

"He only clings to me when I'm in power. How could he possibly obey me when things are tough?"

"Barty, Bella..." Voldemort muttered the names of these two servants, feeling helpless.

Even among the filthy and despicable Death Eaters, there were those truly loyal to him.

Bella was a given, and Voldemort had once opened up to Barty Crouch Jr.

Barty Crouch Jr. even knew Voldemort's mixed-blood heritage and that Voldemort inherited the ignoble name of his Muggle father. They shared many similarities, and Barty's talent was astounding.

If Voldemort hadn't unexpectedly "died" and failed to create the final Horcrux, he might have entrusted it to Barty.

But now, those truly loyal to him were all imprisoned in Azkaban, and Barty was "dead."

Should he continue to wait?

Voldemort felt a deep sorrow. If his only enemy were Dumbledore, he wouldn't be so anxious because he knew Dumbledore would calmly accept his own death. Voldemort just needed to wait; one day, he would have a chance to return.

But Cyrus was clearly different from Dumbledore.

Voldemort worried that if he resurrected too late or too slowly, Cyrus would have fully gained the power of ancient magic. By then, killing Cyrus would not be so easy.

But now, Voldemort was out of options.

He could only possess rats or snakes, waiting for an opportunity.

"Pity, Wormtail was a useless fool, but at least he was a help..." He sighed. Just then, a voice sounded behind him.

"I think you might need a bit of my insignificant help, Dark Lord."

A handsome young man, stepping lightly on branches, approached Voldemort's voice with a joyful expression.

At that moment, Voldemort, who was possessing the body of a runespoor snake, widened his eyes in shock.

A thick black mist rose, forming a human face in the air. Seeing the young man walking towards him, Voldemort was more shocked than ever.

"I thought you were dead, Barty?"

"No, the one who died in prison was my mother. She saved me."

Barty Crouch Jr. didn't show any sadness when talking about his mother. His eyes flashed with excitement, and he couldn't help but quickly lick his dry lips.

"Since then, my father has kept me confined at home. But sometimes I could still get some news." He trembled as he held up a newspaper, featuring the wanted notice for "Tom Riddle."

"You told me about your past, about your name, didn't you? Since then, I've been trying to escape!" Barty exclaimed.

"Is this person a fraud?! You're still here!" His eyes shone with madness.

"Yes, but he revived before me."

"You can use my body; it would be my honor!"

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12 Advance Chapters—