Hogwarts: I am the White Demon King

Snape's task had been arranged, and Voldemort's gaze turned to Barty Crouch Jr., who stood to one side.

This most loyal follower stood quietly, awaiting his master's instructions. His eyes gleamed with fanaticism, as if he would carry out any command without hesitation.

Silence fell upon the room once more. Voldemort did not speak immediately, but looked at Barty Jr., lost in a difficult decision.

Half a minute later, he spoke slowly, "Since my return to the wizarding world, many things have been different from what I remembered. Old enemies still exist, and new variables have quietly emerged."

His gaze was profound, his tone laced with a hint of amusement: "Sebastian... I had only vaguely heard of this name more than a decade ago, knowing him as a smooth, elite Auror. But now, he has grown to the point where I must take him seriously."

Voldemort's tone was unhurried, as if he were merely evaluating a researchable specimen: "Of course, he is only relying on Slytherin's legacy, depending on the convenient dragon-human form, to barely hold his own against me."

"Dragon-human form..." Voldemort narrowed his crimson eyes slightly, his tone low and沉沉, "I must admit, this form does have its unique aspects. I was once quite intrigued by it, and even perused a large number of ancient magical texts, even having Severus try to find its secrets near Sebastian."

He shook his head slightly, a hint of regret in his tone: "Unfortunately, the final result was minimal. The only thing that can be confirmed is that the dragon-human form requires a unique wand to match it in order to unleash its true power."

"Without a suitable wand, the so-called dragon-human form cannot exert its true power at all. Because of this, I ultimately gave up on this path, because that is not a power that belongs to me."

Voldemort paused, a mocking glint flashing in his eyes: "Sebastian is indeed lucky to have obtained a legacy left by Gryffindor to Slytherin. Tsk... how ironic."

As his voice fell, Barty Jr. took a step forward and said without hesitation, "Master! The dragon-human form is just a trivial skill, not worth your time! That kind of deformed power is not worthy of your greatness!"

His eyes burned with absolute adoration, his voice incomparably firm: "No matter how much Sebastian relies on the dragon-human form, he will never be your match. Before your true power, he is just a clown favored by luck."

The corners of Voldemort's mouth turned up slightly, his gaze profound: "The dragon-human form is just a convenient method. We are wizards, and true power always comes from within ourselves."

"After giving up the dragon-human form, I turned my attention to something more essential—the wand! Only a powerful enough wand can greatly increase my combat power in a short period of time, allowing me to truly stand invincible."

With that, he turned and walked to one side of the drawing room, pushing open a window.

Under the night, the Riddle House backyard was immersed in a quiet stillness, with only a tall snakewood tree standing in the darkness, its bark gnarled, its branches and leaves swaying slightly in the wind, like a dormant giant snake, quietly lurking, waiting for its master's call.

"Barty," Voldemort said softly, gazing at the giant tree in the yard, "Do you remember this tree?"

Barty Jr. then stepped forward, his gaze also falling on the tree, his tone tinged with awe: "Of course, I remember, Master. This is from your snakewood wand. At that time, you used Parseltongue to guide its growth. It grew from a wand into a towering tree in just a few minutes. I still remember how shocking that scene was."

Voldemort nodded slightly: "The Snakewood Wand—Slytherin himself's wand. Unlike those legendary wands, it is not out of reach, but a powerful weapon that truly exists in the world."

He slowly reached out his hand, his fingertips brushing past the windowsill, as if touching a past memory: "Its power is very strong. I once thought it was the most suitable wand for me. It wasn't until that confrontation at the Ministry of Magic that I witnessed Dumbledore's power with my own eyes, personally experiencing the unparalleled power of that wand—"

"At that moment, I realized that the so-called legends are not all falsehoods."

Voldemort turned around and praised Barty Jr.: "With your help, I obtained Dumbledore's wand—the legendary Elder Wand. Only such a wand can help me defeat powerful enemies."

"Master, this is what I should do!"

"Tonight, I will do everything in my power to kill Sebastian, but..." He paused, and said softly, "I have encountered a problem, Barty."

"Master?"

Voldemort gently raised the Elder Wand, his slender fingers elegantly pinching the wand's body, like manipulating an exquisite baton. Under the lamplight, the wand's surface glowed with a faint shimmer, like a work of art full of historical significance.

"The Elder Wand, the Deathstick, the Wand of Destiny," he murmured, his voice ethereal and deep, "Each name proclaims its power, and there are countless legends about it. But Barty, do you know, it is useless to me?"

Barty Jr. was slightly stunned, a hint of confusion appearing on his face: "M-Master? I don't understand. You have used this wand to cast superb magic, haven't you? A few days ago, at Gringotts, you used it to fight Sebastian. I saw with my own eyes that your spells were incredibly powerful."

"No." Voldemort shook his head gently, his voice tinged with indifference, "That was just my own power. I just cast the magic I usually cast. It is I who am powerful, not it."

He lowered his head, his gaze falling on the Elder Wand between his fingers: "This wand, it has not shown the miracle it should have, just like when it was in Dumbledore's hands."

"Strictly speaking, the Elder Wand is only slightly stronger than the yew wand I bought from Ollivander many years ago. Compared to the Snakewood Wand... it is even inferior."

As he spoke, he began to pace back and forth in the room, thinking, pondering, the corner of his robe slightly brushing the ground, drawing a low friction sound in the quietness of the room.

"I kept asking myself, why? Why is the Elder Wand unwilling to exert its true power? Why doesn't it create miracles for its master, as the legends say?"

"Until I read a large number of ancient books and traced its history. Finally, I finally understood the key."

Voldemort stopped pacing, his deep gaze falling on Barty Jr.'s body.

"Barty, the Elder Wand is unwilling to serve me because I am not its true master. It only obeys the wizard who killed its previous master, and you..." He paused, his crimson eyes flickering slightly under the light, "are the one who killed Dumbledore."

"M-Master," Barty Jr.'s pupils suddenly contracted, as if he had instantly lost focus, and he froze. His lips trembled slightly, his voice slightly hoarse, "Do you mean... as long as I am still alive, the Elder Wand will not truly submit to you?"

"That's right." Voldemort was expressionless, his voice cold and calm, "I must completely conquer this wand. I need its power to kill Sebastian, to fight Grindelwald, to conquer the entire wizarding world."

Barty Jr.'s face instantly turned pale, and his fingertips trembled slightly. But in the next second, his eyes suddenly became fanatical, and a kind of extreme piety appeared on his face.

He suddenly knelt on the ground, raised his head, his eyes flashing with fiery light, almost shouting excitedly.

"Master! If my life can contribute to your great cause, then please take it away!"

He took a deep breath, a wild smile rising at the corner of his mouth: "I belong to you! Everything I have is yours. It was you who gave me new life, allowing me to break free from my father's control, allowing me to become your most loyal servant. Now, if my death can be exchanged for your true invincibility, then that will be my greatest honor!"

His eyes were full of fanatical light, without any fear, even with a hint of pride. He straightened his back, as if waiting for the final coronation.

Voldemort silently stared at the other party, a complex emotion welling up in his heart. He had always prided himself on being cold and ruthless, but at this moment, his fingers curled slightly, almost without him even noticing.

Barty Jr. was his most loyal subordinate, the first Death Eater to welcome him back, the Death Eater who was willing to wait for him for more than ten years, risking infiltrating Hogwarts, and even sacrificing his father's life to help him resurrect. Voldemort had always been ungrateful, but it would be false to say that he had no feelings for Barty Jr.

He had long known the Elder Wand's rules of ownership, but he had been procrastinating, not taking action, but now, he had no choice.

Barty Jr. looked at Voldemort, a pious smile on his face, his hands open, as if welcoming the arrival of fate.

"Master, please allow me to offer my final loyalty to your great cause."

Looking directly into Barty Jr.'s eyes, Voldemort slowly raised the Elder Wand in his hand, as if performing a sacred ritual.

"Barty, I will bury you in the backyard of Riddle House, and let you witness my great cause."

"Avada Kedavra!"

A green light suddenly flashed in the dim room, Barty Jr.'s figure jolted, and he slowly fell to the ground with a pious smile.

Voldemort lowered his head and stared at him, silent for a long time, then waved his wand and used Transfiguration to create a coffin and put Barty Jr. into it.

"Barty, after the victory, I will hold a grand funeral for you."

With that, he strode out of the room and came to the courtyard in front of Riddle House, and ordered the neatly arranged Death Eaters.

"Depart, to Hogsmeade..."