A Meeting in the Headmaster's Office

Wes's voice shattered the silence, his words like a cold, piercing winter wind:

"Mr. Malfoy, we all know who you are."

His movements were slow and methodical. With a light flick of his wand, he pulled back the long sleeve covering Lucius's left arm.

As the sleeve slipped down, the Dark Mark that had once terrified countless people was exposed to the air.

Almost instinctively, Lucius covered it with his palm. A tangle of emotions—anger, fear, and a trace of embarrassment at having his secret exposed—flashed across his face. He stared at Wes as though he wanted to burn a hole through him with his gaze.

"You're afraid, Mr. Death Eater." Wes's voice was calm, yet filled with pressure. "What are you afraid of?"

He raised an eyebrow slightly. "Your master is about to return. Why should you be afraid?"

There was a hint of amusement in his voice, as if he were enjoying this psychological contest.

"It must not have been pleasant staying by that temperamental man's side, worrying every day that you might be the next one to die."

Wes's words were like sharp arrows, piercing straight into Lucius's heart and making it clench.

Lucius stared wide-eyed at Wes, unable to understand how he had guessed his thoughts so accurately.

"It was actually easy to guess." Wes picked up the diary and gently stroked its cover, the tenderness of the gesture standing in stark contrast to his words. "This Horcrux was made by Voldemort when he was sixteen. With his character and ambition, he certainly made more than just one Horcrux."

Wes looked Lucius directly in the eye, radiating an unquestionable confidence.

"Mr. Malfoy, do you know how Horcruxes are made?"

Lucius shook his head like a rattle drum, like an animal driven into a corner.

"Kill someone, split your soul, and attach a fragment of that divided soul to any object." Wes spoke blandly, as if he were describing something utterly insignificant.

"Sounds simple, doesn't it?" The corner of his mouth lifted into a faintly mocking smile.

Lucius did not dare respond. He was terrified now.

"Countless Dark Wizards throughout history have known how to make Horcruxes, but do you know why so few actually did it?"

Wes's gaze sharpened as he posed the pointed question.

Lucius did not dare answer and could only keep shaking his head.

Dumbledore, meanwhile, looked intrigued. He wanted to hear Wes's views on Horcruxes.

"Have either of you heard of schizophrenia?" Without waiting for them to answer, Wes continued:

"Simply put, it means there is something wrong with a person's mind, causing it to split into different personalities. Some are old people, some are children..."

After Wes's explanation, neither of them fully understood, but they roughly got the idea. Wasn't that just madness?

"If a divided mind has such severe consequences, then what about a soul?" Wes's voice suddenly rose. "Does splitting one's own soul not come at a price?"

As he spoke, every word seemed to exert pressure. "Didn't Voldemort become increasingly irritable in his later years? Increasingly unable to control his emotions? Increasingly extreme?"

Though Wes appeared to be questioning Lucius, his words carried an authority that allowed no rebuttal.

Lucius nodded. Just as Wes had said, Voldemort had changed from a wise and brilliant leader into a tyrant who was constantly suspicious and unpredictably temperamental.

Every day by his side had been filled with unease and fear. Everyone chose their words with utmost care, terrified that one careless sentence would bring fatal disaster upon them.

"Voldemort split his soul too many times." Wes curled his lip disdainfully. "What a foolish thing to do. Only a complete soul can go further on the path of magic. Voldemort's path has already been cut off—he will never advance another step in this life."

Dumbledore nodded in agreement. "Even the most vicious Dark Wizards would not lightly divide their own souls."

"I think Voldemort was too young at the time. He had yet to encounter deeper magical knowledge, so the moment he discovered how to make Horcruxes, he eagerly created this diary. As a result, he could only continue down the dark path."

There was a trace of regret in Wes's voice.

"Young wizards often stray onto the wrong path for all kinds of reasons." Dumbledore also showed a hint of sorrow. "If I had not been prejudiced back then, if I had guided him properly, perhaps he might have become an outstanding Defence Against the Dark Arts master. It would not even have been impossible for him to become the next Headmaster."

"Oh, come on. He could kill people at sixteen without being discovered. A mind like that can't be changed through education."

Wes said dismissively.

As Wes and Dumbledore freely discussed and criticized Voldemort, Lucius sat beside them as though on pins and needles, wishing he were deaf.

"Oh, sorry." Wes seemed to have only just noticed Lucius's discomfort. "You don't mind us talking about your master like this, do you?" Wes looked at Lucius teasingly.

What could Lucius say?

He did want to fire off an Avada Kedavra, but he only dared think it.

All he could do was respond with a bitter smile.

"To sum it up, Voldemort has become a madman because he split his soul—and a cruel madman at that. Mr. Malfoy, you gave that madman's most important Horcrux to his mortal enemy. Tell me, how do you think he'll deal with you?"

Wes continued threatening Lucius in an uncompromising tone.

Lucius was nearly in tears, yet he still stubbornly retorted, "I believe he'll listen to my explanation..."

The more he spoke, the quieter his voice became. Clearly, he did not believe his own words.

"All right, you now have three paths to choose from." Wes held up three fingers.

"The first is to admit that you are the owner of this diary. The natural consequence is a stay in Azkaban. Perhaps when your master returns, he'll rescue you from Azkaban. Let's hope you haven't gone mad by then."

Wes's expression was cold.

At the thought of those evil creatures, the Dementors, Lucius hurriedly shook his head. In less than a month, the Dementors would torment him into insanity.

"Second, you deny that the Diary is yours. With the Malfoy family's influence, there's nothing we can do to you. But we can spread rumors that you lost something important belonging to Voldemort."

Lucius still shook his head.

"Then there's only one option left: turn from darkness to the light."

The moment Wes finished speaking, Lucius sprang to his feet and retorted furiously, "You're asking me to die!!"

Wes appeared to be offering him a choice, but he was actually forcing Lucius to betray Voldemort.

"He won't spare me or my family if he finds out!"

Lucius had seen how Voldemort treated those who betrayed him. He had no desire to suffer the same fate.

"He won't find out."

"You want me to be an undercover agent?" Lucius backed away repeatedly. "Impossible. Don't even think about it!" His emotions ran high, both hands clenched into fists.

"Calm down, Mr. Malfoy." Wes soothed him gently. "Only by staying calm can you make the right choice."

Dumbledore thoughtfully brought Lucius a cup of tea as well, trying to ease the tense atmosphere. But in Lucius's eyes, that cup of tea was more terrifying than deadly poison.

After a long internal struggle, Lucius finally took the teacup and drained it in one gulp, as though he had already prepared himself for the worst.