Harry's heart suddenly leaped, and the whole world seemed to tremble.
He gazed at the white sphere of light as if it were the last glimmer of freedom. In this moment, he recalled the torment, the torture, and the Cruciatus Curse he had endured, pain that still haunted him today. And even earlier, those cruel commands... Fear cast its shadow over his soul, making his breath quick and irregular.
His heart felt like it was drowning, desperately grasping at something that eluded him. He wanted to escape, to disappear where they couldn't find him... But he quickly dismissed that thought.
He had to go back. Reason prevailed, and he knew what would happen if he defied the Dark Lord. Everyone he cared about would suffer, and sooner or later, he'd have to face his past. Running away would solve nothing.
With determination, Harry forced himself to return to the familiar castle, where dimly lit torches burned with eerie silver and green hues, mirroring the darkness of his past. He still had the authority of the castle's master, a reminder that he was still the Dark Prince.
Simultaneously, the castle's dark ambiance served as a stark reminder, bringing back memories of the Dark Lord's punishments and the horrors he had witnessed. They sliced through his mind like knives.
His heart raced, and he knocked on the door to his father's study, his hand trembling. The person inside responded and opened the door.
Harry bowed his head, concealing his anxious expression. He spoke in Parseltongue, the language he and his father always used: "Father." He offered a slight bow, a gesture of respect—Dark Princes didn't kneel to the Dark Lord.
"My dear Harry, are you getting accustomed to the Muggle world?" The voice was calm, neither angry nor pleased. It was like an ordinary conversation between father and son.
Harry inhaled sharply. He guessed that the Death Eaters had informed the Dark Lord of his contact with Dumbledore. Voldemort must be furious. "I... It was purely coincidental that I encountered the Order of the Phoenix today... If you doubt me, you can use Legilimency," Harry stammered, nervously trying to defend himself. He raised his head, and his emerald eyes met those dark red ones. He also removed the Occlumency shields, an act of utmost submission, for powerful wizards like them.
Voldemort's slender fingers touched his teacup handle, paused for three seconds. But Harry didn't feel the invasive gaze of Legilimency.
"You don't need to do that," Voldemort said calmly. He leaned back in his chair, appearing relaxed. "You're too tense, Harry. Don't forget, this is your home."
"I'm sorry, I..." Harry started, still nervous, but Voldemort interrupted.
"When they tortured you before, it wasn't my order," Voldemort said slowly, and mentioning the torture made Harry's body tense up. "I understand if you have some resentment about that... I should tell you that I never wanted them to torture you like that. It was a grave error on the part of the Death Eaters; they acted on their own."
Voldemort's gaze was fixed on Harry. "I've killed all those involved to avenge you... To make it right," he said, his voice soothing. "You don't need to apologize. Come closer. We haven't seen each other for so long; let me have a good look at you."
Harry hesitated for a moment but ultimately took a step closer, despite the heavy weight in his chest.
"Good boy," Voldemort said in an encouraging tone. "You see, it's safe here. I won't harm you anymore. You've always made me proud, Harry. You've been an exceptional child. I'll treat you better from now on."
Harry felt a bit puzzled. He blinked, not understanding why his father was suddenly saying these things. His father had never spoken like this before. But the nervousness and unease that had been gripping him had indeed dissipated, replaced by a complex swirl of emotions that bubbled up and burst like bubbles in water.
"Harry, why so silent? Tell me about what you've been up to these past six months," Voldemort continued to play the role of a caring father.
"Ah... these past six months... I've been attending a Muggle high school," Harry replied.
"I imagine you must be doing well. My wild child, always out there in the Muggle world, never returning to see his father," Voldemort's voice was soft, icy, like a serpent's.
"I..." Harry began to feel guilty. Why hadn't he contacted his father in these six months? He had been trying to escape his past, but objectively, he hadn't run away from home. His father had let him go. His father had saved him, and he seemed to have misunderstood. "I'm sorry, it's my fault. I should have kept in touch with you."
"I can forgive you, Harry," Voldemort said with each word perfectly placed. "But let me ask you this: in these six months, have you ever thought about your father, your master?"
"Not really... I mean, I've always thought about you," Harry couldn't lie, especially with Jess reminding him every day about the news. How could he not think about the Dark Lord? "For example, what happened with Dumbledore, and how there's so much support for the wizarding world over Muggles with the Scrimgeour Wizard Supremacy Act... I wondered what you would say."
"What do you think I would say?" Voldemort asked, intrigued.
"You would probably say that people are foolish, cruel, and greedy... that they're not worth saving," Harry replied.
"And today, when I saw my classmates fighting each other... I thought they were different," Harry's recounting of the brutal scene he witnessed that day was impactful, and he couldn't help but be shaken. "I've seen so much of people's true nature these past months. It's been haunting me. Also, someone I used to help turned against me, saying it's because I didn't look like a troublemaker. Would they treat me better if I were worse?"
"Indeed, what you've seen, the contradictions and betrayals, is a reflection of human nature. Don't be surprised or confused by it. Humans are inherently this way," Voldemort said. His hand rested on Harry's shoulder, and he was pleased to see Harry didn't recoil. His voice was like a melodious cello. "But... I want to tell you, Dumbledore was merely involved in a forbidden romance. It no longer meets their standards, and only saints are qualified to save the world. As for you, how many people have you killed? If they discover your dark history, they'll treat you even more harshly. You'll die at their hands, and your wish won't come true. You can't save the world. I don't want to see that. I would feel sorry for you."
"Father..." Harry was stunned. It was as if his secret had been laid bare. He had never liked hurting others and always wanted to help people, but he never dared to tell his father. Saving the world? He had never seriously considered it, but now his father had nonchalantly and incisively exposed it.
"Oh, my dear Harry, did you think I didn't understand you?" Voldemort's eyes held a hint of amusement.
Harry's gaze wandered. He felt a strange contradiction in his heart. His secret, which he had tried to hide, had been revealed, making him uncomfortable. But at the same time, he was happy that his father understood him.
"I never really thought about these things," Harry admitted. He shook his head. He had never considered how the world would treat him.
"But you've always acted on instinct, haven't you? You help people because you can't bear to see them suffer. But you've never thought deeper or further. You should, Harry," Voldemort said, cunningly coaxing him.
"Yes... I..." Harry began, cautiously nodding.
"Oh, it's alright, children are like this. But you should grow. You need to learn to think about the bigger picture, plan, and consider how to achieve your grand goals. No matter what you want, you should stop your weakness. Sacrifices are necessary for the greater good, even if they hurt you in the short term. You need to be strong for the sake of the bigger and deeper picture, don't you think?"
Harry nodded cautiously.
"Having seen so much, you should understand the complexities of human nature. You can use it to serve your goals. You can follow me; I'll give you power and a platform to do more of what you want to achieve. You see, the Order of the Phoenix might want to use you, but they can never truly accept you. A person like you, with blood on your hands," Voldemort's voice was soft and seductive.
"I know they won't accept me," Harry said softly.
"Only I will be proud of you," Voldemort concluded.
"I know," Harry replied.
"Harry, can you do one more thing for me?" Voldemort asked in a gentle tone.
"What task?" Harry couldn't help but feel nervous. No matter how convincing his father's words were, he still didn't want to hurt others. "I remember you promised that I could remain neutral..."
"Of course, Harry, no need to be so tense. Relax. It's just that this third-party force has created Psycomplier, and it's a nuisance. I need you to take care of this," Voldemort explained.
"About that? Of course, I'll do it!" Harry sighed in relief, even feeling a bit excited. This was something he had already planned to do, and it coincided with Dumbledore's request. He also remembered the rules; thus, he bowed again, obediently, and said, "Yes, my Lord." Then he took a few steps back and left.
Voldemort always appreciated how Harry accepted his orders and left. The boy seemed to be the same as before, bowing obediently, accepting orders, and then leaving. Like a bullet with sharp, cold lethality, he shot out, enough to pierce through the superficial facade of the world.
Voldemort continued to watch his retreating figure, his gaze no longer hiding the calculation within.
Psycompliers obeyed their master's command. The connection between them and their master was a form of magical bond linked to ownership. Harry designed a magical ritual to seize ownership.
The magical ritual consisted of many spells forming a whole. If individual spells were musical notes, the magical ritual was a symphony. Under precise arrangements, many magical elements had to work together to produce complex effects that individual spells couldn't achieve.
It was like programming, combining many magical effects together, designing an arrangement that would make the whole ritual work best. A ritual with flawed parameters could be completely ineffective or even backfire severely, causing magical accidents that could kill the wizard. Dark magic was like this, extremely dangerous. Throughout history, many dark wizards had died in magical accidents, and the list included famous dark wizards who had left their mark on history.
Harry, with pen in hand, sketched and plotted, outlining the general idea on the drafting paper. This was his old profession. When he worked for his father, he did this every day. He couldn't be more familiar with it. With the framework in place, he needed to calculate precise parameters.
How could he calculate the optimal solution? In the past, it often required racking his brains to come up with clever methods and a lot of hard work. But now, he suddenly had an idea.
On the other side, for the bewildered Muggles who had just experienced the Death Eaters' manipulation of their emotions, many of their relationships and mindsets could never return to what they were before. Jess and the other students remained deeply despondent. Romance had ended on the spot for Lily and Oscar.
Under the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy, the Muggles' memories were supposed to be wiped clean. This might help them return to normal life. However, Dumbledore had a reason to speak with these students, so James decided to delay the memory-erasing spells by his Ministry colleagues for a while.
Using a portkey, Dumbledore led the students back to their usual classroom. Lily and Hermione were also present.
Seeing that the students were still feeling down, the white-bearded old man tried to console them, "Facing the game set by the Death Eaters, your reactions are all quite normal. Although you may not be particularly brave, it's not particularly wicked either. This is how people are. Voldemort is simply the master of manipulating people's hearts, and he's sure to enjoy this 'game'."
He waved his wand, and the injuries on many students' bodies disappeared within seconds.
The words of the old man seemed to encourage everyone. The pains they had felt moments ago also dissipated, allowing these young people to relax. Thanks to Jess, there was no need for further introductions; the students were already aware of Dumbledore, and they were very curious about this old man and the magical world. The atmosphere soon thawed, and everyone started chatting animatedly.
And Dumbledore took the opportunity to inquire about Harry.
He had just learned from Lily that the Dark Prince had left the wizarding world and attended a Muggle high school for the past six months. This news shocked him. Even with his Death Eater infiltrators, it was challenging to gather information about this mysterious second-in-command of the Dark side. Now, with this group of students, wasn't this the perfect opportunity to learn more about Harry? He came here today precisely to get to the bottom of things.