Rain poured outside. A fire burned in the old manor's hall, where a male wizard spoke respectfully to the figure in the armchair.
"Have you found that Mudblood's hiding place?"
There was a trace of surprise in Voldemort's hoarse voice. He was clearly astonished by his capable subordinate's efficiency.
"I used the Imperius Curse on Diggory." Yaxley respectfully handed the letter to Voldemort. "But I cannot be certain it is not a trap. That Mudblood is cunning. Lucius and the Lestrange family both fell into his hands. This could also be a trap meant to lure us in."
"You intend to use that old woman to determine whether it is a trap?"
After glancing through the letter's contents, Voldemort tossed it into the fireplace and watched it burn to ashes in the flames.
"Yes, my lord."
"Go and bring her here." Voldemort paused. "Oh, and I presume you have captured her family as well."
"They have already been taken. Dementors are guarding them," Yaxley said.
"Very good. I would like to see whether that old woman can still refuse so stubbornly." Voldemort sneered.
Before long, Yaxley wheeled someone into the hall. Sitting in the wheelchair was none other than Cassandra Vablatsky, the Master of Prophecy who had vanished from St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries some time ago.
"Do as I told you."
Yaxley placed a Crystal Ball before the elderly Master of Prophecy.
The old woman shakily reached out. The instant her fingers touched the Crystal Ball, the thick mist within it began to whirl like a vortex.
But when the mist stopped spinning, all that remained before their eyes was dense fog.
"It failed?"
Yaxley stared at the Crystal Ball, frowning slightly.
"It failed. Divination and prophecy were never particularly accurate. Otherwise, the Hall of Prophecy