Lucius's breathing grew increasingly rapid. He already understood just how enormous the wealth behind such a future could be—more clearly than anyone else in the world.
But the problem was—
"Many people have had the same idea as you, yet they're either dead or rotting in prison."
"How can you guarantee you'll succeed?"
He was tempted—deeply tempted—by the future Tver described. Though harder to achieve than Voldemort's path, it would be far more acceptable to the masses. Yet his solid grasp of magical history meant that the failures of Grindelwald and Voldemort hovered constantly in his mind. If it were truly so easy, two generations of Dark Lords wouldn't have been defeated.
Tver laughed softly, stepping out of the sunlight and stopping beside Marvolio.
"A guarantee? No one has ever dared guarantee the success of their cause."
"But I can tell you this: two Dark Lords have already agreed to support me…"
"Allow me to formally introduce myself—Tver Fawley, currently the sole student of Grindelwald."
Under the stunned stares of Lucius and Burke, he patted Marvolio's shoulder.
"And as for this man, Lucius—you're very familiar with him."
Marvolio, already in silent sync with Tver, let out a cold laugh. His face twisted again, becoming wilder, more vicious. Beneath the transformation, faint traces of his original features still lingered. But now, Burke finally understood why that eerie familiarity had struck him when he first saw Marvolio.
This was Voldemort—the shop's former employee.
It was a past Burke preferred not to revisit, one neither side of the war would want him speaking of. But that didn't mean he had ever forgotten this man. Lucius, meanwhile, was trembling so hard that his pale lips quivered uncontrollably.
"This… th–this is…"
"Remember the diary you lost?" Tver said. "Voldemort created several Horcruxes. This is one of them."
"Younger, more progressive in thought, and…" Tver studied Marvolio's unsettling Voldemort face, "...a slightly friendlier version of Voldemort."
Marvolio forced a helpless smile, though paired with Voldemort's features, it looked grotesquely wrong.
Lucius was so terrified he nearly fell to his knees. Even the original Voldemort hadn't frightened him this deeply.
"M–Master," he managed with a stiff smile, "I didn't know it was you… any earlier disrespect was purely ignorance…"
His feet felt as heavy as lead, unable to move.
"Don't worry, Lucius. He goes by Marvolio now. He's very agreeable. Come on—change back and smile."
Marvolio shot Tver an expressionless glance, shifted back into his original face, and the corner of his mouth twitched.
Lucius felt even more horrified.
"Uncle Lucius."
Tver stepped forward, straightening the collar Lucius had disheveled in his panic.
"No need to be afraid."
"This time, you stand on the side of justice. You'll gain the wealth you deserve, and no one will insult or spit on you."
"On the contrary—many will thank you. Thank you for bringing them wealth they could never earn in a lifetime."
"The Malfoy family will return to how it was a thousand years ago—thriving in both the wizarding and Muggle worlds."
"And we will protect you. Protect you from harm, whether it comes from wizards or Muggles."
"So. What is your choice?"
Lucius's eyes flickered for a long moment before he clenched his teeth and said:
"The Malfoy family will follow your will, my master!"
After all, even if Voldemort (the original one) returned, he would still have to serve him. He might as well choose the master who seemed more promising—and wealthier.
And besides, they had a Voldemort here as well.
With that thought, his confidence grew. At least his status was now comparable to Voldemort's—that was progress, he told himself.
"Stop with the 'master' business—it sounds downright weird," said Tver with disdain.
"We're equals, Uncle Lucius. Just call me Tver."
"No, no, no. I'd rather call you Professor. Draco still relies on your guidance at school."
Lucius hastily tried to ingratiate himself with Tver, having already grasped who held the real authority here.
Though merely a Horcrux, Tver commanded such absolute obedience from Voldemort—proof his power was not to be underestimated. Add in the mention of Dumbledore earlier, and he finally understood why Tver had executed his earlier actions with such practiced ease. That was the signature move of a Dark Lord!
Yet human joys and sorrows rarely align. Beside them, Burke was now squirming uncomfortably. Hearing such monumental news, learning of the schemes between the former Dark Lord and the new generation, he was utterly flustered. In the magical world, overhearing what one shouldn't hear usually meant either death or being tortured into madness!
Take the case of Lockhart, who'd been all over the newspapers—permanently damaging someone's memory was considered a lenient punishment among dark wizards!
The more Burke thought about it, the more terrified he became, his mind replaying countless agonizing tortures. His feet inched toward the counter, where numerous priceless life-saving artifacts lay. He no longer cared about Galleon's suffering—survival was his sole focus!
"Where might you be headed, Mr. Burke?" Tver inquired with a smile.
Hearing that voice, Burke's heart skipped a beat, freezing him in place.
In that instant, his thoughts turned to—
The house where two generations of Dark Lords had plotted their uprisings—surely it would be worth a fortune someday? Perhaps it would even be mentioned in A History of Magic? Could he leave a name for this master of his? Then he could die without regret...
His mind, reeling from fear, began to wander wildly—one moment fixated on torture, the next wondering if the property deed was still valid.
"—You haven't gone completely mad, have you?" Marvolio's voice suddenly filled Burke's ears.
"I didn't even say anything. I was just trying to win him over," Tver sighed, spreading his hands helplessly.
"Since he's already acting foolish, we might as well make him a proper fool. Pin a crime on him and toss him into Azkaban. That way, we avoid trouble and get rid of him through the Dementors."
Lucius swiftly slipped into character, playing along with Tver and the others.
Only then did Burke's mind slowly return to normal. He stared incredulously at the trio teasing him.
"What... if I'm not actually mad?"
"Then it depends on how clever you really are," Tver said with a smile.
Burke instantly breathed a sigh of relief. As long as he remained useful, as long as they still needed his skills, he wouldn't just avoid trouble—he might even score some benefits!
The thought instantly brought his merchant instincts to the fore.
"Gentlemen, I'm actually quite discreet. Very few people know I once had the privilege of recruiting Lord Voldemort. You should ever need anything in the future, feel free to come to me. I'll definitely give you a preferential rate."
Tver and his two companions simultaneously offered friendly smiles, silently observing him.
"..."
Burke swallowed hard. "Cost price?"
"Don't worry," Tver stepped in front of Burke, meeting his gaze. "I know business isn't easy. We'll pay you well. Just keep this matter confidential, and never refuse any of our requests. Otherwise, everything you fear will come to pass."
He leaned close and murmured into Burke's ear.
With his mastery of alchemy, Burke was already counted among the elite few in Britain's magical circles. Unlike the Dervish and Banges brothers, he had delved deeper into certain niche branches of alchemy. In a sense, he was truly one of a kind in British alchemy.
So recruiting him was well worth the effort. This was precisely why Tver had chosen to confess to Lucius here. He had come today specifically for these two men!
Mr. Burke nodded frantically. He dared not, nor did he wish to refuse.
Finally, a chance to latch onto a powerful patron!
...
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