HP: Hogwarts Snake

Chapter 461 The Magic Wand and a Series of Coincidences

Della calmly watched Maggie fall. She looked at his hands, which were braced against the ground and had veins bulging, and suddenly realized that she and Voldemort had something in common, such as their dislike for Maggie.

She didn't help him up, firstly because she felt Maggie deserved it, and secondly because she didn't want to get herself into trouble.

Della didn't want to suffer two excruciating pains, and it wouldn't be worth it for Maggie to suffer two excruciating pains for her sake.

But Voldemort had no intention of letting her go.

After glancing disgustedly at Sirius Black and Dobby, who were already unconscious from torture on the ground, Voldemort examined the wand in his hand that shimmered with a heavy golden light, and then glanced at Della out of the corner of his eye. "Your wand is quite nice, Della."

“I’m happy with what you’re using,” Della nodded slightly, her demeanor elegant yet revealing her eagerness to get her wand back. “Is there anything else you need? Can I have it back now, my dear father?”

Voldemort didn't respond to Della's question. He looked with satisfaction at the rings of golden light dancing on the wand and asked, "Where did you get this wand?"

"Is there a problem?" Della asked, without giving a direct answer.

“It’s nothing, I just realized I’ve been forgetting to check on you. After all, my dear daughter was away on the run for a year,” Voldemort’s snake-like face twisted into a smile. “How did you spend that year, and where did you spend it, Della?”

"Just wandering around randomly, nothing special to mention." Della calmly brushed off the topic, revealing no useful information.

"You went to France for a month last time to see your former roommate who just had a baby. Considering you also studied in Europe for a year, you probably have a strong attachment to Europe, right?" Voldemort said meaningfully, twirling his wand.

Della frowned slightly. Mentioning Europe meant nothing to her; she just didn't want to mention Bellinda, not wanting others to know Bellinda's true residence and disturb the family of three's life. She had previously secretly gone to the East to see her little goddaughter under the guise of going to France.

“Who can forget the places they’ve lived in?” Della replied dismissively, deliberately ignoring the person and only mentioning the place, trying to completely erase Bellinda’s presence from the conversation.

“It seems you have a good impression of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang. This reminds me of my own student days,” Voldemort’s smile widened, and his voice became unusually amiable. “Oh, you may not know, but I also went to Durmstrang when I was young and received some good guidance there.”

“Lytia,” Voldemort suddenly called out the name, “I heard you’ve been at Durmstrang. Is Professor Kirkrell still teaching there?”

“Yes, yes,” Lydia stammered, flustered by being called upon. Wearing her uninspired Death Eater robes, she answered in a slightly trembling voice, “Professor Kirkrell is still teaching and is very much loved—”

As she spoke, Lydia cautiously looked up and noticed that Voldemort's eyes, which were looking at her, slid across Della. She understood immediately, and having been warned earlier when she chatted with Grindelwald, she quickly continued, "Miss Riddle should know this as well; she was Professor Kirkrell's prized student back then."

"Oh? Is that so?" Voldemort smiled with satisfaction, his gaze refocusing on Della. "That's quite a coincidence, Della. We've both been taught by the same teacher. Show me your learning progress, shall we?"

What are the most important takeaways from Professor Cockerell's teachings?

It is manifestation, and Della and Maggie's almost unchanged appearances make it almost immediately clear that they are following the path of limiting dark magic.

The topic had become too suggestive, and it was no longer appropriate to play dumb. Della sighed softly, opened her now-blue eye, and said modestly, "I don't think it's necessary to boast about this level of learning in front of you, Father."

“Beautiful, very beautiful, you did a good job, Della,” Voldemort praised her, his arrogance deepening. He was proud that he was the only one who resolutely pursued ultimate power, as he did not set any limits on dark magic. “By the way, are you still in contact with Professor Kirkrell?”

“We don’t have much time to keep in touch,” Della blinked, her eyes turning dark again, her reply still calm. “Would you like to catch up, Father? I can go to Europe to protest Professor Cockerell’s restrictions on his behalf.”

“No need for that. I’m just a little worried about him. As a well-known remnant of the sorcerers, I wonder what his thoughts are on the passing of Nurmengardli.” Voldemort leaned forward slightly, staring intently at Della’s expression.

The Grindelwald dummy left in prison has been dead for some time.

Della pondered the timeline and realized that Voldemort, who had been searching for a powerful wand, had already traced it back to Grindelwald's line of inquiry.

“I didn’t care about the news,” Della said, looking down. “If Professor Cockerell is saddened by this, I will go to great lengths to offer him my sincerest condolences.”

“Didn’t you notice? I have some other news you might not have heard of,” Voldemort’s slender fingers traced the wand in his hand, creating a golden ripple. “I sent a few men to Nurmengard to check things out. They told me that an alarm went off last October. Nothing happened, but it was still unusual, wasn’t it?”

Last October, before Della's return, she returned with her new wand.

“Yes, it is very unusual, but I think there are many reasons for it,” Della smiled and looked at the wand that had been in her hand not long ago. “I wonder what information Father saw in this anomaly?”

“Coincidence, an extreme coincidence, because the other group I was investigating about the Death Stick also traced it back to Grindelwald,” Voldemort met Della’s gaze. “I was still feeling sorry that old Grindelwald died too early, but now it seems that some information has not been buried as I expected.”

“This is a powerful wand, Della,” Voldemort smiled, “a wand as powerful as the Death Wand I wanted.”

Having said all that, the Death Eaters, who had been holding their breath, gasped and stared at Della in astonishment.

"This is just my wand, and also a wand that admires strength. If you insist on having it, then I'm afraid I'll have to duel you, Father."

Della finally showed a tough stance, which was the stepping stone she had built for Voldemort's plunder.