EFB Chapter 98 Nick Lemaitre's Appointment
Chapter 98 Nick Lemaitre's Appointment
Chapter 98 Nick Lemaitre's Appointment
"Master is wise!" Quirrell forced out flattering words, enduring the pain. "Quirok—I'll go write the letter right away!"
His eyes gleamed with a longing for power, for freedom from pain, and for his master's approval.
Voldemort was silent for a moment, his blurry face seemingly assessing something.
Quirrell's physical condition clearly conveyed to him a sense of weakness and pain, like a candle flickering in the wind.
"No..." Voldemort finally hissed, "We need to—wait a little longer..."
"Wait?" Quirrell was stunned, and asked urgently, "Master—why? This is a rare opportunity!"
"Can your broken body withstand another failure?!" Voldemort's voice was filled with impatience and coldness. "We only have one chance! You need to recover to a better state!"
With the Philosopher's Stone within reach, he could not afford any mishap.
Thinking of this, Voldemort stopped draining Quirrell's life force and instead began to consume his already limited stored energy, which he had already used up most of the night before in order to escape from Lynch's watchful eye.
Voldemort silently calculated how many days his remaining energy would sustain him: "I will put myself into a deep sleep to reduce energy consumption... You have one week to recover by any means necessary! Potions, forbidden arts—I don't care what you use! You must act in one week! Otherwise—I will show you what pain worse than death is!!"
As Quirrell sensed the force that had been relentlessly devouring his life force finally cease, an unbelievable, almost absurd, surge of emotion welled up within him.
Ever since the Dark Lord possessed him, he has been constantly draining his life force to fuel his activities. This behavior has never stopped, only varying in intensity.
But at this moment, in order to recover from his injuries as quickly as possible, the Dark Lord actually stopped drawing life force from him!
This unprecedented gift even made him overlook the threat in the Dark Lord's words.
He excitedly pledged his loyalty: "Quirk—I will definitely get the Philosopher's Stone! I will present it to you!"
"I look forward to it..." Voldemort's voice faded as he fell asleep.
Quirrell let out a sigh of relief and wrapped his large headscarf around his neck.
After wrapping his head in a headscarf, he unbuttoned his clothes, revealing a gruesome wound on his abdomen, and then took out another bottle of white sage essence and poured it onto the wound.
Dictamnus dasycarpus extract is a highly precious purified extract of the dictamnus plant, possessing potent and immediate healing properties. It can instantly stop bleeding and repair deep wounds such as lacerations and dissections; timely use can even prevent scarring.
But strangely, this time, its healing ability was challenged.
At the edge of the wound, under the influence of the medicine, newly formed granulation tissue twisted and spread towards the center, but the process was unusually slow.
The lingering magical energy on the wound, like invisible thorns, relentlessly hindered the healing process, turning it into a torturous ordeal.
A wave of excruciating pain washed over him, and Quirrell's body arched violently as an uncontrollable whimper of agony escaped his throat.
Rewind a bit, after Thortz served the two Aurors at the door with chairs, tea, and snacks, Lynch sent Thortz back to the castle to prepare lunch.
He returned inside and sat calmly on the sofa.
He raised his finger and tapped it lightly in the air: "Silence."
The invisible power of the curse occupied all the space inside the stone house, eliminating the possibility of the two Aurors at the door eavesdropping.
The flames in the fireplace turned from orange-red to eerie green, and Regina's figure, shrouded in a gray robe, became clearly visible.
Good morning, Reggie.
Reggie's hoarse, flat voice came from the fireplace: "What is it?"
The flames flickered, illuminating Lynch's calm face: "All information regarding the six dead Vagado wizards, and the African wizards currently at the Ministry of Magic demanding justice, should be delivered to the office of the Director of the Department of Law Enforcement at the Ministry of Magic before noon."
"No problem," Reggie replied succinctly.
Then he asked, "You changed your mind?"
"No." Lynch picked up the still-warm teacup from the table. "But Dumbledore decided to bring him to the front lines against Voldemort. He probably thinks that Mr. Crouch's blood feud with Voldemort is enough to make him an unbreakable ally, so he has already told the Chief Inspector about Voldemort's return."
"But you still don't trust him?"
"Yes." Lynch took a sip of tea, his eyes sharpening like knives. "Mr. Crouch's reaction when I offered to send the intelligence to his residence was quite interesting."
"His pupils contracted sharply, followed by an abnormally rapid refusal, almost a reflexive resistance."
O
"A director like him, known for his iron fist and discipline, wouldn't panic so much when others mentioned his family; the constriction in his pupils was a sign of his nervousness."
"The news of Voldemort's return was certainly a huge shock, but the panic only erupted the moment I uttered the word 'residence'—that was the trigger."
"That urgency, that deep-seated panic, was not merely a bureaucratic act of separating public and private matters. He was afraid—afraid that someone would approach his home."
"His house," Lynch's voice was low and resolute, "holds a secret. A secret he instinctively wants to cover up. A secret that makes me feel uncertain about him."
"Do you want me to send someone to infiltrate his house and find out?" Reggie asked.
"No, let's not go any deeper for now." Lynch shook his head slightly. "After all, Crouch is the Director of the Department of Law Enforcement. His residence must be full of sophisticated anti-intrusion magic. It would be too risky to explore rashly and we might alert him."
"Furthermore, we cannot afford to be discovered breaking into the residence of a high-ranking official in the Ministry of Magic."
"Send someone to monitor from a distance, 24 hours a day."
"Record all personnel entering and exiting, and pay attention to any unusual magical fluctuations or emotional reactions."
"The key is to keep your distance and not get caught. It's a long-term project, but we'll eventually figure out what his hidden secret is."
"Understood." Reggie's voice was flat. "The surveillance begins today."
Lin Qi nodded and asked about something else: "Any progress on your end?"
"Yes," Reggie's voice rang out again, "that's exactly what I was planning to report to you today—Mr. Carter, or rather, Mr. Nicolas Flamel, wants to meet with you after hearing about our ideals and plans."
Lin Qi raised an eyebrow, seemingly unsurprised: "What was his reason?"
"Mr. Lemaître believed that our ideals were too... grandiose, and he needed to meet with the leaders in person to determine whether the plan was feasible before deciding whether to join us."
Lynch pondered for a moment, the firelight from the fireplace flickering in his deep black eyes: "Reply to him that the meeting place should be Hogsmeade Village. Mr. Lemaître can decide the time and more specific location himself; I will make sure to appear on time."
"Okay," Reggie replied. "I'll pass it on."
The fireplace flames returned to their normal orange-red color, and Reggie's phantom disappeared.
Only the crackling sound of burning firewood remained inside the stone house.
Lynch leaned back on the sofa and canceled the "silence" spell.
Outside the door, the two Aurors were enjoying their snacks, completely unaware of the conversation that had just taken place inside.
>