Chapter 232 "Voldemorts Return"

Afterward, guided by Dumbledore, a group of individuals emerged from the dense jungle.

At that moment, Harry couldn't hold back his curiosity and inquired, "Professor Dumbledore, I need to know who that mysterious cloaked figure is. Why does my head ache incessantly when I see him?"

Draco, equally intrigued, fixed his gaze on Dumbledore while Wentworth maintained a composed demeanor.

However, this tranquility was short-lived.

Dumbledore's eyes traversed the trio and settled on Wentworth. He remarked, "It seems Wentworth may have an inkling about the identity of that person, isn't that right, Wentworth?"

Harry and Draco, surprised by Dumbledore's statement, turned their attention to Wentworth.

Suppressing the urge to roll his eyes, Wentworth thought, Why is it always me? Can't you explain it yourself? This is an affair of yours, which was already planned meticulously in your head; I'm just an onlooker, a passerby! Do you really have the need to include me in this drama of yours, old man?

Despite his internal complaints, Wentworth managed a slight smile and posed a question, "Harry, Draco, do you remember what that person was doing when we first saw him?"

Upon hearing Wentworth's inquiry, Harry and Draco were momentarily surprised. Draco swiftly responded, "He seems to be drinking unicorn blood!"

Wentworth nodded in agreement before elaborating, "Indeed, the consumption of unicorn blood can extend one's life, providing temporary reprieve even in life-threatening situations. However, unicorns are sacred creatures, and the moment your lips touch their blood, you are cursed indefinitely."

After a brief pause, Wentworth stared intently at Harry and continued, "As for the reason behind your headache—it's because the cloaked figure who was afraid to reveal his true identity failed to take your life when you were a kid. There was no time to heal the curse he was currently suffering, and well, right now, he needed to use every single drop of the unicorn blood just to sustain his life. Do you have any idea of who you think he is?" He asked with the corner of his lips lifted a bit.

As Wentworth unveiled the narrative, the mysterious figure's identity grew clearer.

However, this revelation left both Harry and Draco completely stunned.

After a brief moment, Draco suddenly let out a scream, startling Wentworth, "Ah, ah! So my suspicion from before was all true? Wentworth? Is it really him? You are not lying, right? He Who Must Not Be Named? Is it... Volde... mort?"

Confronted with Draco's almost frenzied demeanor, Wentworth nodded with assurance.

Draco went into a frenzied state, attempting to articulate something but struggling to find the right words leaving his mouth.

While Harry who was standing beside him, remained frozen in place.

Meanwhile, there arose a sudden noise from the Forbidden Forest, accompanied by the echoing cadence of numerous footsteps and the appearance of colossal figures.

Observing this, Wentworth hastened to offer a piece of advice, "A word of caution: it's best not to disclose Voldemort's return to others. It's for your safety and the safety of those around you!"

Upon hearing this counsel, Dumbledore's eyes on the sidelines brimmed with admiration, and Harry and Draco nodded emphatically. The two were now firmly convinced of Wentworth's wisdom.

At that moment, Hagrid's reassuring voice resonated from the front:

"Thank goodness Professor Dumbledore found you in time. It's great that you're all right!"

Hagrid strode over, with Ron and Hermione trailing behind him.

As Hagrid reached Harry and the others, he carefully examined them to ensure they were unharmed. A sigh of relief escaped him when he noticed that their clothes were only slightly messy, with no signs of injury.

Just then, more footsteps approached from behind Hagrid. It was Professor McGonagall, Professor Snape, and others.

"Are you all fine?!" Professor McGonagall asked; obvious signs of worry could be seen on her face.

Seeing Wentworth's presence, Professor Snape nodded at him before he looked at Harry, "Potter, why is it always you when trouble arises?" He scolded.

Following a conversation with Dumbledore, the group escorted Wentworth, Harry, and the rest back to Hogwarts Castle.

Within the castle, Filch could be seen engaged in his routine night patrol. He felt a fleeting sensation behind him.

Yet, upon turning back, he found nothing amiss.

Intent on resuming his patrol, Filch had taken only a few steps when he noticed his cat lingering in front of a nearby door, seemingly drawn to something behind it.

Filch squinted his eyes and called out as he walked back along the corridor, "Which one of you mischievous souls is still awake and sneaking about? Who's there? Show yourself; don't try running away; I've caught you!"

Filch's excitement surged, and he quickened his pace, eager to catch the naughty student red-handed.

He had already devised a plan for the impending punishment. Yet, as he approached the door, his expression shifted to one of disappointment.

To his surprise, this was the room of the new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor at Hogwarts for the current academic year.

Expressing his displeasure, Filch kicked his cat in frustration and continued his patrol.

Unbeknownst to him, behind the door, Professor Quirrell, clutching his abdomen with one hand and wielding his wand with the other, breathed a sigh of relief as the footsteps receded.

Suddenly, an angry voice resonated behind Quirrell's head:

"You fool, you've committed a blunder once more!"

The unexpected reprimand jolted Quirrell, who was brought back to alertness in his weakened state from the loss of blood. While trembling, he replied, "I apologize, my master. I... I didn't anticipate that an ordinary second-year student possessed such potent dark magic. I..."

Quirrell's words were cut short as the voice from the back of his head echoed once more, this time with increased anger, "Fool! You're a complete fool! An ordinary sophomore? Are you still under the delusion that he's just an ordinary sophomore until now?!"

Upon hearing this stern reprimand, Quirrell swiftly corrected himself, saying, "My apologies, my master. I misspoke. He is an extraordinary second-year student!"

However, as Quirrell finished his response, the voice behind his head sighed audibly, "What a fool you are!" A prolonged silence ensued.

This unexpected pause left Quirrell, accustomed to relentless scolding, feeling uneasy.

After waiting for what seemed like an eternity, Quirrell tentatively called out, "Master?"

After a while, the voice behind Quirrell's head again said, "Did you genuinely graduate from Ravenclaw? That tattered hat of yours is becoming old and muddled."

The tone of the voice now carried a sense of weariness.