Chapter 331: A Different Dark Lord

After Snape left, Sirius did not speak much more to Harry about the Dark Lord. He did not want Harry to be drawn into danger, but neither did he wish to force Harry to change his mind. So he decided to send Harry back to school to do his homework instead.

After returning to school from Sirius's office, Harry seemed less certain than before. Especially when faced with a mountain of homework and occasionally encountering unfamiliar content, even the young Savior found himself doubting whether he could truly perform well as the Dark Lord in magical ability.

On Sunday night, Harry spent the entire evening lively and cheerful, chatting about gossip in the Torchwood, which left him feeling relaxed and at ease. Afterward, he walked toward Gryffindor Tower, smiling broadly, with Ginny and Ivy.

"Harry, I'm feeling worried," Ginny suddenly said.

"What?" Harry was surprised.

"I'm not sure who's playing against Hufflepuff," she looked uneasy.

"Who's playing? Oh, right." Harry hesitated too. "You do lack experience, but I've also been neglecting training lately."

"Yes, that's why Ginny's been anxious," Ivy said. "She can't sleep well after every practice."

"I don't have confidence I can beat him," Ginny lowered her brows. "I'm also afraid you'll lose to him—Ernie told me Sharby has been training extremely hard."

"Think about it this way, Ginny," Harry took a breath. "The key is whether you want to play."

"Me? But—"

"No buts. Just say it: do you want to be the starting Seeker for the Gryffindor Quidditch team?" Harry looked earnestly into her eyes.

"I…," Ginny took a deep breath. "I do."

"Then that's settled. You don't need so many worries—even if you lose, it won't be the end," Harry said. "We're ahead in overall points; we can make it up when we play Ravenclaw."

"No, it's not just that," Ivy suddenly said. "You have to consider your reputation. If Ginny loses, the whole house will ask: why wasn't Harry playing?"

"Huh?" Harry frowned—he hadn't thought of that.

"Besides, we're worried that if you play and lose because of lack of training, it would be completely disastrous," Ivy continued. "Letting Ginny play is also to protect your reputation."

"Ivy, you're not a player—you can't understand," Harry explained. "No player doesn't want to start. That's undeniable."

"True, but it's just one of many factors, and not the most important one," Ginny turned her head, watching him cautiously.

"But it's decisive," Harry said seriously. "If you're afraid of failing, then I'll play. I'll train hard during the remaining time—I don't think Sharby has even seventy percent of Cedric's level—maybe not even Cedric himself would be hard to beat."

"I'm not afraid of failing—I—" Ginny's eyes suddenly sparkled with a different light. "I want to try."

"All right. I believe in you," Harry smiled.

"Like you said, confidence is the first lesson for a Seeker," Ginny's demeanor changed instantly. "I can beat Sharby. Let me play—then you can focus on more important things."

"There's been some talk around the house," Ivy whispered. "Some don't trust Ginny."

"That doesn't matter. What matters is that Ginny believes in herself," Harry patted her shoulder. "Go for it."

After watching the two enter the girls' dormitory, Harry returned to his own room.

Ron invited him to sit on his bed and quietly asked about the meeting. Harry gave a brief summary, including the Dark Lord election.

"That's awesome," Ron's eyes lit up. "Do you want to try?"

Suddenly, Harry remembered his own words to Ginny.

"I do," Harry said seriously. "This isn't just about playing a grand game—it's also a major step in my personal growth. Most importantly, anyone aiming to benefit the people won't turn down the chance to seize power."

"You said that well," Ron admired. "But I'm a little worried—you won't have enough time?"

"In the magical world, power doesn't mean sitting in a meeting room, handling documents, and pointing fingers at your subordinates," Harry had developed a different understanding. "It means possessing profound magical ability."

"If I become the Dark Lord, I'll require all major families to copy and share their private collections," Harry began imagining his policies. "I can even offer Grindelwald's notes as a starting point."

"That would strengthen the Death Eaters, and most of what they hoard is Dark Magic," Ron said, puzzled. "I don't see the benefit."

"Studying and understanding Dark Magic is essential to becoming a great wizard," Harry mused. "And we can also share the final compiled materials with the Order of the Phoenix. Tonks still has the Ministry of Magic's decades of research on temporal theory—we can build a database to boost the Order's strength."

"I don't think that's a good idea," Ron shook his head. "Even if you really collect and compile all the theories, only Hermione will read them."

"Look, even at Hogwarts, with so much knowledge and strict professors, many still refuse to study—let alone you setting up a database. Who in their right mind flips through books for fun?" Ron complained.

"Hmm, you've got a point," Harry rubbed his chin. "But it doesn't matter—copying materials isn't hard. Let's build the library first. Even if only I use it, that's fine—after all, there's still Hermione."

After chatting until they were sleepy, Harry fell asleep with a beautiful blueprint in mind. The next morning, as he sat in History of Magic class, idea after idea began popping into his head—mostly about how the Dark Lord should establish rules for the Death Eaters, prevent them from harming innocents, and gradually guide them toward the right path. Having seen Sirius's cannery, Harry felt his thinking had broadened considerably.

On Tuesday, Harry continued his Occlumency lessons with Snape, putting great effort into his studies. Unfortunately, the memory-weaving aspect of Occlumency didn't seem to be something one could quickly master through diligence alone. Though progress was slow, Snape at least recognized Harry's determination, and at the end of the tutoring session, the taciturn professor reluctantly offered a few words of encouragement.

"At least there's some progress," Snape said coldly. "That means you've developed some ideas… So we'll skip tutoring on Thursday."

"Huh?"

"Nagini has been sent to Black's place. You'd better use Thursday afternoon to talk with her," Snape's tone was more like an announcement. "I've already arranged the leave with Professor McGonagall."

"All right," Harry automatically agreed. "After all, she's the key to the whole plan."

After lunch on Thursday, Harry followed Snape to Sirius's rural office in Northern Ireland, where he was led into a vast underground chamber.

"I knew Lucius wouldn't be easy to deal with," Sirius complained. "He made me leave the locket as collateral."

"Did you give it to him?" Harry asked.

"Of course I did—it's not something important," Sirius sounded weary but slightly relieved. After all, he knew Voldemort could never return.

"For us, each has a base beyond our Death Eater identities," Snape commented. "But for Lucius, without the special status granted by the Dark Lord, he can't command respect."

"That's why he values the Horcruxes so much… Here we are." Sirius opened a lightweight aluminum alloy door.

Before them stretched a large expanse of artificial turf, with several logs arranged haphazardly around the perimeter. A large white snake lazily coiled in a water pit on the left. When it noticed Harry among the group, it lifted its head.

"Harry Potter?" A cold female voice echoed in Harry's ear. "Why are you here?"

"Uh, do you know me?" Harry answered naturally in Parseltongue.

"Of course. The Master has said many times how significant you are to him," Nagini said. "But you're Dumbledore's man—why are you here?"

"You might not know yet, but Dumbledore and the Dark Lord… died together," Harry chose the simpler explanation.

"Oh?" Nagini lowered her head again. "So human relationships have shifted again, allowing you to coexist peacefully with these two? How interesting."

"Do you feel nothing about the Dark Lord's… death?" Harry asked curiously.

"I'm saddened, but powerless to change it," the snake spoke with startling clarity. "Let it be this way. After you leave, let me grieve alone."

"Actually, I came to discuss something with you. If you've just learned this news, perhaps I should come back another day?" Harry felt awkward.

"No, speak now," Nagini lifted her neck again.

"Do you think," Harry tried to ease into it gently, "that we should now elect a new Dark Lord?"

"Whatever. I have no opinion," Nagini replied coldly. "But I won't serve him. I serve only Lord Voldemort."

"I understand completely," Harry organized his words. "If you were to choose, who would you pick as the new Dark Lord?"

"Anyone?" Nagini asked.

"Pick one—maybe you can?" Harry probed.

"I choose Credence Barebone." Its serpent mouth uttered a name both familiar and strange to Harry.