The Dark Lord's Diary
The next day, the Department of Magical Law Enforcement of the British Ministry of Magic received an anonymous letter of complaint.
The letter mentioned that there were a large number of illegal items related to dark magic hidden in Malfoy Manor. These items were reportedly stored in a secret warehouse beneath the fountain in the center of the courtyard.
Amelia Bones, Director of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, took the report from her assistant, her initially disinterested expression gradually shifting to one of extreme surprise.
"Rufus, take a look at this report," she called out, waving to Rufus Scrimgeour, the Director of the Auror Office.
A man with gold-rimmed glasses and brown hair walked over. His gait was slightly off, a limp in his left leg, but he carried himself with the grace of a seasoned Auror.
"What's the matter, Amelia?" Scrimgeour glanced at the letter in Bones' hand and said casually, "Another letter about Malfoy Manor? The Malfoys are reported frequently, but we never find anything concrete."
"No, Rufus, this letter is different this time." Bones shook her head and handed the letter to him. "Look at this."
Scrimgeour took the letter with suspicion, and his eyes widened in alarm.
"This letter includes a detailed layout of Malfoy Manor? Only someone with an intimate knowledge of the Malfoy family could have drawn this so precisely," he murmured, his brow furrowing. "Who wrote this? And what's their intention?"
"No matter who wrote it, we can't afford to ignore this opportunity," Bones replied, determination in her voice. "Arthur Weasley and Lucius Malfoy have always been enemies. He knows Malfoy's manor well. You two will lead the operation. Bring two teams of elite Aurors, and I'll authorize a full search."
Scrimgeour nodded sharply. "Understood." He turned and walked towards the Office for the Prohibition of Misuse of Muggle Items, intent on notifying Arthur Weasley of the mission.
Once Scrimgeour had left, Amelia Bones retrieved a document from her drawer and began filling out a search warrant for Malfoy Manor.
At that moment, a tall man with long, light blond hair braided neatly into a tight plait appeared at her desk.
"Yaxley, what is it?" Bones asked, her brow furrowing as she noticed the wizard's opulent robes, which seemed out of place in the Ministry's austere halls.
Yaxley flashed a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Director Bones, I have a document here that requires your signature."
Bones signed the document without hesitation, handing it back to him, then turned her attention back to the warrant. "You can go now."
But what she didn't know was that Yaxley had no intention of following her instructions. As soon as he left her office, he slipped into a deserted corridor. Pulling a quill from his pocket, he began to write furiously on a piece of parchment, his eyes darting over his shoulder as if expecting someone to appear at any moment.
The letter was addressed in bold, unmistakable handwriting:
To: Malfoy
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Malfoy Manor, Wiltshire, England, a cold weekend night.
A figure cloaked in black stood in the shadows of the street, his eyes fixed on the grandeur of Malfoy Manor ahead. The extravagant estate glimmered eerily under the dim moonlight.
"Master, what if Malfoy doesn't follow through and dispose of what you asked for?" Quirrell's voice trembled from the shadows beside him.
"Don't worry, I've already accounted for that." Voldemort's voice was low and foreboding, laced with certainty. "If Lucius doesn't hand over what I want, it might actually work in our favor. At least it would show that he still holds some shred of loyalty to me."
He paused for a moment, letting the cold wind sweep through the silence. "If that loyalty hasn't completely withered, we'll use the Dark Mark to reach him. If not... we'll simply take it from him ourselves, according to the original plan."
"Everything that belongs to me will be mine. No one can prevent it."
Voldemort's voice echoed ominously through the still night, adding to the unnerving silence that hung over the manor.
Hours passed, and the snowfall grew more persistent. Yet, there was still no sign of movement from Malfoy Manor.
Quirrell, unable to mask his growing anxiety, whispered, "Master, it seems Malfoy is still loyal to you. He hasn't acted yet—perhaps he intends to hold on to the items for now."
"I hope that's the case." Voldemort's voice shifted, a trace of satisfaction creeping into his tone. "Get ready. I will teach you how to use the Dark Mark."
Just as Voldemort prepared to guide Quirrell in using the Dark Mark, the door to Malfoy Manor creaked open.
A tall figure cloaked in expensive robes and a silk scarf sneaked out into the night. It was Lucius Malfoy, carrying the precious items Voldemort had requested, his movements cautious.
"You're the black market contact from Knockturn Alley, aren't you?" Lucius' voice was clipped and haughty as he handed over a bag. "This took me six hours to gather. I hope you appreciate the quality of the goods."
"If I hadn't been in such a rush, two thousand galleons wouldn't have even gotten me a fraction of it."
Quirrell's eyes widened, shivering as he took in the sight of Lucius. He could feel Voldemort's fury building inside his mind.
'The Malfoys... such fools,' Voldemort's voice seethed, laced with disdain.
Suppressing his unease, Quirrell took the bag—charmed with the Traceless Stretch Charm—and began to sift through the assortment of illegal items, searching for what Voldemort needed.
"Yes, this is what I was looking for." Voldemort's voice was cold, but triumphant.
Quirrell let out a quiet breath of relief, handing Lucius the two thousand galleons he had just unearthed, and without a word, turned to leave.
In the cold darkness of Wiltshire, far from the manor, Quirrell opened the bag once more. Guided by Voldemort, he retrieved a blank diary with a black cover, its contents still a mystery.
Voldemort's anger had dissipated, replaced by a quiet sense of victory, and with it, a growing anticipation for what was to come.
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