Chapter 527: Reward (Edited)

"Tea, coffee, or hot chocolate?" Tom carried a tray in one hand and a jug of hot water in the other as he entered the tent. The place was bustling with activity as everyone heatedly discussed the previous match. Charlie and Mr. Weasley were engaged in an intense argument, while others divided into two groups, supporting one side or the other.

"Let me tell you, Ireland's team victory was dishonorable, it was a robbery!" Charlie repeatedly pounded the table with his hand.

"Ha! A robbery, you say? On what basis do you think the Bulgarian team would've scored that goal?" Mr. Weasley turned an unusual shade of red and shouted loudly, "And besides, why was the referee distracted?!"

Charlie was left speechless instantly.

Fred took the opportunity to chime in, "It was the Bulgarian national team's mascot who ignited Mr. Mustafa's broom, preventing him from concentrating; that's self-inflicted sabotage."

The point of contention between both sides was the goal scored by the Irish team. Charlie believed that if the penalty shot had been awarded, it would have reduced the point difference between Bulgaria and Ireland to 150 points, and most importantly, it would have halted Ireland's overwhelming momentum. A constant exchange of goals might have allowed Bulgaria to win. Therefore, Ireland's team victory was dishonorable.

On the other hand, Mr. Weasley thought that was absurd. Regardless of whether the penalty had been scored or not, it would've only reduced the point difference to 150, and it was only a matter of time before Bulgaria widened the gap again.

Such was the state of the tent when Tom entered.

"Oh, Tom!" Mr. Weasley spotted Tom and the jug of hot water he carried. "Great, I need a cup of tea to moisten my throat!"

Suddenly, tensions dissipated, and everyone approached Tom for a mid-break: to have something to moisten their throats, regain their energy, and then continue "fighting."

"No coffee for you lot! You're going to sleep!" Mr. Weasley firmly stopped Fred, who wanted an espresso, and switched his drink to hot chocolate.

It didn't take long before each person had their favorite beverage in hand.

"I'm going to roast some sausages." Tom wasn't interested in the post-match discussions; he just wanted to enjoy a serving of roasted sausages before going to sleep.

After placing the sausages in the Finnish stove, Hermione also came out and sat beside Tom, crossing her legs. They watched the Finnish wood stove glowing with a reddish light and enjoyed the aroma of the roasted sausage fat.

The camp on their side gradually fell into tranquility. Most of the people there were neutral fans and didn't celebrate as enthusiastically as the Irish. As for the Irish section, songs and cheers could still be heard.

That night would be a sleepless one for the members of the Ministry of Magic. Just as Tom was leaving the tent, he saw Dawlish hurrying in one direction. He would be very busy that night.

"Are you hungry?" Tom asked the girl sitting next to him.

"A little, but... I better not eat. Eating at night makes you gain weight." Hermione looked longingly at the roasted sausages in the Finnish stove and, with a voice that didn't match her words, said.

"Meat is good; I like girls with some meat." Tom didn't mind. No matter how Hermione transformed, she would always be the white moon in his heart. Yes, he would definitely find Nicolas Flamel in the future and learn how to make the Philosopher's Stone so that Hermione could always have this beautiful appearance.

Since Tom had given her a chance, Hermione went along and nodded, indicating she could have a small sausage.

Just one sausage!

"Has Mr. Granger and the others gone to rest?". Tom shifted his hips to get closer to Hermione.

"Yes, they don't know much about Quidditch, but they had a lot of fun today." Hermione spoke in a low voice.

"Oh, I see..." Tom seized the opportunity to embrace Hermione, but to his surprise, the girl wriggled in his arms and changed her position, lying directly on the ground with her legs resting on Tom's thighs.

"I'm very satisfied with your performance... so here's your reward." Hermione told Tom calmly as she gathered her courage.

Tom looked at the "reward" in his lap and chuckled.

"Is this a reward?"

"Yes, I allow you... to give me a little massage." Hermione spoke even more quietly, fearing someone might overhear.

Tom scratched his head: 'Damn, was I being so obvious?!'

Well, if Hermione put it that way, he didn't have to pretend to be a gentleman.

Tom gently removed Hermione's shoes, revealing her adorable feet clad in black cotton socks. He set Hermione's shoes aside and began to gently massage the soles of her feet.

Tom was skilled at this; his hands moved with dexterity, applying light pressure and then releasing. The massage relieved tension throughout Hermione's body. After a day of walking, her feet were tired. Tom's massage was perfect, relieving her fatigue.

Hermione felt her arch being cradled by Tom's warm palm, and the tingling sensation almost made her doze off.

"I'm airing them out," Tom rolled up the socks into a ball and tucked them into Hermione's jeans pocket. "It's not good to keep your feet covered all the time."

The shy girl closed her eyes and pretended to be asleep, but her blushing cheeks betrayed her act.

Tom didn't expose her and simply held the soft, white feet in his hands, lost in thought.

Tonight won't be peaceful, will it? The Death Eater followers, stimulated by alcohol, probably won't be able to contain themselves for long. But this time, there won't be a young Barty Crouch Jr. to scare them away. It's quite funny that those who call themselves Death Eaters run faster than the Ministry of Magic itself when they see the Dark Mark.

No one knows at what stage Tom and Dumbledore's plan is. Since in this plan Tom only provides ideas and execution is entirely Dumbledore's responsibility, there's a small disadvantage: if Dumbledore wants to hide progress, Tom can't do anything about it.

Tom had sent a few letters earlier to check on the plan's progress, but Dumbledore had ignored them. The responses were always a series of nonsense followed by the phrase "everything is proceeding smoothly." It really irked Tom! It can only be said that Dumbledore has a strong sense of confidentiality and understands what "one-way communication" means.

Perhaps that's Dumbledore's discretion!

Boom!

The sausages' skins split from the hot fat and burst with a crunch, pulling Tom out of his fantasy world. Tom saw that the sausages were ready and quickly removed them from the fire.

"Come on, Hermione, try these freshly made sausages."

"Alright, just wait a moment, Tom Yodel, go wash your hands first!"

...

"In our student days, we called ourselves the 'Knights of Walpurgis'." Alcohol filled the tent as a group of wizards gathered around the fire, all of them dressed in entirely black wizard robes with hoods.

The Knights of Walpurgis were the predecessors of the Death Eaters.

"We all come from ancient and noble families, gathered together for a noble ideal," the leader wizard tied up his silky blond hair and tucked it into the hood, "Although times have changed, that has never changed. Even if we are forced to hide due to circumstances, our ideals never change."

The people around nodded, showing that their aspirations had never changed.

"In my eyes, there is no dark magic. That magic is only an art twisted by vulgar laws," the hooded leader continued, guiding everyone's emotions.

"Unfortunately, after our Master left, these arts were relegated to oblivion and trampled upon by the filth. They're afraid, they're afraid that we'll rise to power again..."

When they mentioned the Master, a burly man by the fire growled softly, "There's only one sun in my sky, and that's my Master."

After uttering these words, the atmosphere cooled for a moment, then everyone responded with a louder voice, "Right! Our Master is the only sun in our hearts."

As for why that sun has been wandering in the Albanian forests for over a decade without anyone paying him any attention, that's another story.

Although the burly man had opened a delicate topic, everyone expressed their discontent loudly and clearly.

This man criticized that in the Ministry of Magic, half-bloods and mudbloods could hold important positions, and that his own family's income had decreased, which increased his dissatisfaction as the wine in his cup diminished.

The hooded leader listened for a while and felt it was the right time. He interrupted everyone's discussions, saying, "The Knights of Walpurgis are very simple. We were born for the greater interests of wizards, yet we have always been misunderstood, slandered... We have kept silent for too long, and now... it's time to show those Muggles how powerful we are!"

"Yes!"

"Well said!"

Everyone agreed in unison.

This masked leader who set the pace was Lucius Malfoy. Although he seemed like a loyal servant of Voldemort, in reality, this guy only talked about ideology but was only interested in business. No matter how grand his speeches were, they couldn't change one fact: the very fact that he was sitting here already meant betrayal to Voldemort. The true followers of Voldemort, those loyal Death Eaters, whether they died in battle against the Order of the Phoenix or were imprisoned in Azkaban, the few who remained to this day, all had committed acts of treason.

Lucius convened this meeting, taking advantage of the Quidditch World Cup final, both to vent his dissatisfaction and to leave an outlet for himself in case Voldemort returned someday, so that he could also prove that his aspiration had never changed.

The others present had thoughts similar to Lucius's. And they dared to do this because they were backed by a lack of accountability. After all, in this tent alone, more than ten people had gathered. Once they started acting, more people would join them. You must know that when the Death Eaters were at their peak, they also had influence abroad. There are Muggle haters everywhere, and as long as you hate Muggles and uphold blood purity, you are very likely to become a Death Eater.

Like Karkaroff, he is the representative of foreigners who joined the Death Eaters. However, after betraying his colleagues to absolve himself of charges, he was expelled by Voldemort's followers.

"Perfect, I've been disgusted with the camp administrator for a long time, why not...?" Once they made the decision to act, they also had to determine the content of their action. Mr. Roberts, the camp administrator, as a pure Muggle, was a perfect target to vent their frustration.

A group of Death Eaters wanted to cause trouble, and they undoubtedly had to bother the Muggles. However, in addition to the Roberts family, there were also the Grangers, another pair of genuine Muggles. But no one mentioned anything about bothering the Grangers because they knew that these two had a fundamental difference with the Roberts family: they had powerful backing!

The idea of the girl and Tom Yodel conjuring a Patronus together made the hooded individuals not consider dealing with the Grangers; they had to mess with the soft ones! If they really angered that Yodel, he could attack them.

What? Don't I have evidence that they were involved in the attack? Do I have to give you proof even when I beat you up? It'll be your own misfortune.

Not worth it.

Finally, the target of the attack was established in this way.

"Let's go!" Lucius laughed hysterically and set his own tent on fire with a wave of his hand.

The flames rose, engulfing the tent and igniting the ambitions of everyone present. They tossed their bottles and liquor glasses to the ground and drew their wands.

The flames illuminated the camp shrouded in darkness, followed by chilling screams, laughter, and mocking voices of the Death Eaters.

"Avada Kedavra!" Someone cast a killing curse into the air, prompting unrestrained laughter.

The Death Eaters gathered and headed toward the camp's exit. Since the members of the Ministry of Magic were busy tending to the celebrating Irish, the Death Eaters advanced unhindered until they reached the door of Mr. Roberts's house.

The poor camp administrator had already been awakened by the external noises. He got out of bed and left his cabin to find out what was happening.

Then he saw a scene that he would never forget in his life: a group of hooded and masked individuals appeared at his doorstep.

Before Mr. Roberts could react, he felt himself levitated in the air, and instantly, his wife and children were also dragged alongside him.

The masked individuals laughed as they held the Roberts family in the air through magic, watching their desperate attempts to escape.

"Come on, let's show the people from the Ministry!" Someone shouted and was followed by a chorus of approval.

The parade began.

Tom slept lightly and woke up as soon as the commotion began. He changed his clothes and left the tent, witnessing the atrocities committed by the Death Eaters.

He stood silently at the tent's entrance, like a marble statue.