HP: The Duelist of Hogwarts - 442

Chapter 442: The Ouroboros Pentagram

“You called me what? Master…?”

Sean’s voice was utterly flat. For some reason, though, Avery felt as if the sound of it overlapped with Voldemort’s own, even though, objectively, they did not sound alike at all.

He pressed his head even lower and said in a cringing mumble, “Yes. Yes, you… you are the master’s other half. No, you are a part of the master himself, so you are also the master…”

Listening to Avery’s rambling, Sean more or less pieced the gist together.

But that alone should not have been enough to make these Death Eaters behave like this.

“What exactly have you learned?”

“We…” Avery glanced at Yaxley, lips tightening. “We know that the giant tribe was destroyed. And we know the rough outline of how it happened.”

“From the Death Eaters who escaped last time?”

Avery nodded. “Yes. Goyle and Crabbe told us. They were the only two who made it out alive.”

Back in the giants’ camp, the Death Eaters had fallen under Sean’s Boggart’s Shadow just like the giants, and the two sides had slaughtered each other. In the end, only the stronger Old Goyle and Old Crabbe survived.

“So you have heard about that. Fair enough.”

Sean had barely finished speaking when he flicked his wand casually backward. The two Death Eaters creeping up behind him were sliced cleanly in half where they stood.

The sight left Avery and Yaxley chalk‑white. Yaxley, who had been standing at Avery’s side, felt his legs give out and dropped to his knees as well.

Sean turned his head and looked at them both. “Well?” he said mildly. “How do you want to die?”

At that, Avery began to shake all over. His breath came in short, scraping gasps, but no words emerged.

“If Avery cannot speak, then let us start with you, Yaxley,” Sean went on. “If memory serves, this is not the first time we have met, is it?”

Yaxley’s hand trembled around his wand. He wanted to raise it, to fight back, but for some reason it felt as heavy as lead. He could not get it to lift at all.

After a long silence, he finally let out a low sigh. “Whatever you want me to do,” he said hoarsely, “just say the word.”

Sean’s lips curled faintly. He regarded Yaxley with evident satisfaction. “Good. You are a bit more sensible than he is.”

“You will sign a contract and swear absolute loyalty to me,” Sean said. “From that moment on, your life and death will be mine to command. You will be my eyes and ears among the Death Eaters. In return, I may be willing to spare you both. For now.”

“And… and if we refuse?” Yaxley asked.

“Then you die.”

Yaxley’s jaw clenched. At last, he raised his eyes to Sean. “But the Dark Mark,” he stammered. “Master… the Dark Lord has laid spells into it. If we sign anything, he will know at once. The Dark Mark looks like a way for him to contact us, but in truth, it is his leash around our necks.

“And his Legilimency is not something we can possibly deceive.”

“You do not need to worry about either of those,” Sean replied. “As Avery said, I am the Dark Lord’s other half. Do you really think I cannot see through the tricks he has left behind?”

After Sean had taken Voldemort’s magic related to marks and sigils, he had studied it in depth, blending it with ancient runes and alchemy. The work had borne real fruit. As for fooling Voldemort’s Legilimency, with Sean’s current command of memory magic, he had little reason to fear it.

“Show me where your Dark Mark is.”

Yaxley hesitated, but the situation was stronger than he was. He did not want to die. That left obedience as his only option.

He tugged up his right sleeve, revealing the Dark Mark burned into the inner side of his forearm. Sean took hold of his wrist; the strength in his grip was far beyond anything Yaxley could shake off. Then Sean raised his wand and drove the tip straight into the Mark. He stabbed with such force that it felt as though he meant to pierce the skin, the wood sinking deep enough to grind against flesh.

“Mm…”

Yaxley could not quite hold back a grunt of pain, but he bit down and swallowed the rest of it.

From the point of Sean’s wand, something like black ink began to spread, seeping out in thin lines. They crept over the Dark Mark, weaving themselves into a net that wrapped tightly around it and completely smothered it. The pattern resolved into an inverted pentagram, a five‑pointed star bound in the coils of a serpent biting its own tail. The new sigil glowed faintly white, then sank out of sight beneath the Dark Mark.

“The Ouroboros Pentagram,” Sean said. “It will cut off the Dark Lord’s surveillance through your Mark, and he will not detect it. It is my own sigil. As for your worries about Legilimency…”

He snapped his wand upward. A point of white light bloomed at the tip. Filaments of pale radiance spilled out, sliding along Yaxley’s features and burrowing in through his eyes, ears, and mouth, diving straight into his mind and rearranging his memories.

When Sean lowered his wand, Yaxley slumped over and collapsed into a dead faint.

Before Sean could speak again, Avery thrust out his arm of his own accord. He yanked back his sleeve to reveal the Dark Mark etched into the outer side of his left forearm.

Even Sean was briefly taken aback by Avery’s eagerness, but after a beat, he still extended his wand and repeated the process, branding his Ouroboros Pentagram over the Mark and then altering Avery’s memories in turn. Like Yaxley, Avery dropped unconscious to the floor.

Sean holstered his wand and looked down at him, beginning to understand why the man was so… fawning.

Back in Voldemort’s service, Avery had followed him purely because of his strength, the kind of power that stood so far beyond ordinary wizards. Ever since Voldemort had declared Sean his other half, Avery had been watching him from the shadows. At first, Sean had not shown strength on Voldemort’s level, nor done anything Avery found truly astonishing, so Avery’s attitude had remained lukewarm.

But then Sean had revealed his power again and again.

Facing the Dark Lord head‑on.

Crushing Barty Crouch Jr.

Annihilating an entire giant tribe and butchering every last member.

Now, standing in front of Avery, he radiated a presence that felt on par with Voldemort’s—perhaps even faintly beyond it. Under that pressure, Avery had become his bootlicker in an instant.

Leaving the two unconscious Death Eaters sprawled on the floor, Sean stepped out of the house. He hunted down and killed the rest of the Death Eaters outside, then returned to the orphanage, where he found Aldrich waiting anxiously for his return.