When Fred, George, and Lee Jordan were busy running about for Albert's wedding, the Death Eaters began making plans of their own.
If they did not want the Ministry of Magic interfering with the murders on the twelfth, they had better cause the Ministry some trouble now, leaving it too distracted to care about that Mudblood's wedding.
Many Death Eaters had realized that the Dark Lord wanted Albert Anderson, that Mudblood, dead. They could also see just how wary Voldemort was of him.
Prophecy Master?
Super genius?
Duelling Champion?
No, none of those were the point.
The point was that the Mudblood had only been exposed to the magical world for seven years.
In just seven years, he had achieved things that left wizards all over the world dumbfounded. Give him another ten years—five years, no, two years. Just two years, and who knew how far he would grow?
He would probably become another figure like Dumbledore.
But without question, that Mudblood was more dangerous than Dumbledore.
Not only Voldemort—even they had realized it. They simply did not want to admit it.
That was why, after Fudge refused to join him, Voldemort had not immediately sent his Death Eaters to massacre Muggles. Instead, he had patiently waited until now to make his move.
If the Death Eaters led the giants in an attack on Somerset, they could not only take revenge on the Ministry of Magic but also accomplish their own objective.
Once Somerset suffered heavy Muggle casualties, the Ministry would need to commit a great deal of manpower to concealing the truth, tying up most of its attention.
When Lucius Malfoy led the Death Eaters to attack Albert's wedding, the Ministry would react much more slowly. By the time reinforcements arrived, everything would already be over.
It could not