"Dumbledore..."

Lucius struggled with his nearly bursting belly, his face briefly pale, and then his eyes filled with deep resentment.

"I have to start from what happened on the night of the World Cup Final... Dumbledore, you’ll never guess who I met..."

He said with a slightly distorted expression: "Barty Crouch Jr — you must remember that person — he’s still alive! It was he who cast this curse on me."

Dumbledore was not surprised at this, but he leaned forward slightly, showing a very interested look.

Lucius clenched his left arm tightly, his knuckles turning white, and said sharply: "I never imagined that the Dark Lord even abandoned that crazy woman Bellatrix back then but kept Barty Crouch Jr by his side, even...even truly intending to hand over his position to him!"

Now Dumbledore was truly surprised. He raised an eyebrow, a hint of doubt crossing his eyes.

Not doubting that Lucius Malfoy was lying, but suspecting that the person before him had probably received incorrect information —

A man like Voldemort, how could he possibly prepare a successor for himself? Even if he’s dying, he would tightly grasp power till the very last second, absolutely unwilling to let go.

Yet Lucius Malfoy was deeply convinced of his conclusion. In the months after his transformation, apart from striving to survive, the only thing he could do was think.

That night, Barty’s expression, tone, and the spell he used played repeatedly in Lucius’ mind. As the images grew more specific, his thoughts deepened.

He even rolled up his sleeve, pointing to the Dark Mark above, narrating from more than a year ago —

"At that time, the Dark Mark became increasingly distinct, and we all noticed... Everyone thought it was because the Dark Lord was coming back."

"To test this idea, and to... to demonstrate our loyalty when he returned, we decided to cause a stir in the World Cup camp."

Seeing Dumbledore’s expression suddenly turn cold, Lucius Malfoy hurriedly added:

"The changes to the forest and mascots weren’t caused by us; we didn’t make such a big decision. At most... we wanted to find a few Muggles... well..."

Under the headmaster’s cold, disdainful gaze, Lucius quickly abandoned his explanation, sped up his recounting of the events, and then described being chased by Sirius, seeing Sirius transform into a squirrel, and subsequently experiencing the process of his own Transformation Curse.

Next came the results of his thoughts during this period.

"You don’t understand, Dumbledore!"

Lucius Malfoy couldn’t help but stand up and pace back and forth in the office, the pale face flushed with a sickly hue.

"That method of enchanting countless trees in the forest, and driving the Leprechauns and Veela insane, and forcibly turning me into a frog... Such magic, Crouch, that bastard, never had this level before? This must be the Dark Lord personally teaching him the techniques!"

Dumbledore sat in his chair, fingers interlocked, with the gaze behind his half-moon glasses intent and unmoving, only occasionally flickering to indicate he was pondering.

On the perch, the originally sleeping Fox was awakened, uneasily shaking its tail feathers.

"Dumbledore, has Snape ever told you that during that time the Dark Mark on our arms became very dim? Even less than..."

He suddenly choked up, his Adam’s apple rolling up and down for a while before he still lacked the courage to utter Voldemort’s name.

"Less than... less than the time that person last lost power!"

At that time, because of Harry Potter, the whole world thought Voldemort was already dead, and yet the Dark Mark hadn’t faded to that extent.

"At first, I thought... thought it was because of the Transfiguration Spell, but later... I don’t know how long it took... one day the Dark Mark suddenly became clear again! It even started burning!"

Lucius’ pupils suddenly contracted, he sat down panting, staring at the swaying teacup on the table as if there was some horrifying answer hidden within.

Dumbledore had long known of these changes from Snape, even knowing the specific timing clearly, and understood that although the mark was burning, it had not yet reached the level of a personal summons by the Dark Lord.

Snape believed that this was the Dark Lord rapidly recovering once again.

As to why it was "once again"... why the last time it faded...

The bewildered Professor of Potions was unsure, worried he might be suspected by Voldemort, and had been excluded from the core circle of Death Eaters.

Perhaps one day, when Voldemort summoned him again, and Snape traveled, he might find it a prepared execution ground for the Death Eaters for him.

Regarding this guess, Dumbledore and Professor of Potions had discussed and argued over.

And now, Dumbledore heard another version from Lucius Malfoy —

"This must be inheritance! Utterly complete inheritance!"

Malfoy stared at the darkening color on his arm with the Dark Mark, his gaze filled with complex emotions: loathing, resentment, jealousy, doubt...

He closed his eyes, calming himself before continuing: "The Mysterious Man taught Barty Crouch Jr powerful magic only he could master and gave him the authority to punish me at will. Even that Golden Ring that nearly trapped me to death was made by him personally..."

His facial muscles twitched slightly, faint grinding sounds seemed to echo.

"Though I find it hard to believe, that person gave the power to control the Death Eaters, along with everything he had, to Barty Crouch Jr for inheritance!"

"Actually, thinking carefully, there were forewarnings for this matter. Even back then, Barty Crouch Jr treated that person as his father, and the Dark Lord... I mean the Mysterious Man, was very close and trusted Barty, even calling him ’my child.’"

— At that time thought to be words to win hearts, turned out to be true?

"Dumbledore, you should have heard, Grindelwald cultivated a successor for himself... Maybe it was his inspiration that led that person to consider making Barty Crouch Jr his successor... After all, his condition might be worse than anyone imagined!"

Dumbledore’s eye twitched slightly, he calmly pushed the teacup towards Malfoy again.

"Thank you..."

Such a small gesture instantly shattered Malfoy’s forced calm facade. His eyes reddened, he picked up the teacup and took a sip.

Hot chocolate slid down his throat, bringing warmth and sweetness.

Lucius Malfoy made up his mind and raised his head:

"I have another secret to tell you, Dumbledore — are you familiar with Hufflepuff’s Golden Cup?"