"Why did you choose him, Dark Lord?"
As they left the White Castle and headed toward their next destination, Malfoy asked him.
"Because he's suitable, Lucius."
Voldemort spoke calmly. "We need someone who can preside fairly and clear our names."
"How will we clear our names?" Old Nott asked curiously. "What we did before wasn't exactly kind."
He said it with a broad grin, reminding Voldemort of their school days.
Back then, he and Old Nott would often exchange the same grins after doing something bad.
"There are two sides to every story. I mean, it's just a matter of framing it differently."
Voldemort had used Chinese for the first part, so he had to explain. "Throwing the Wizarding World into chaos and a failed revolution, Geraint—they seem like opposite things, but they lead to the same end."
Old Nott pursed his lips, looking as if to say:
Yeah, right.
"Hahaha."
Voldemort laughed heartily, unbothered by his old friend's heckling.
"Why not choose one of our own?" Lucius asked again, curious.
"Because no one will believe we're good people, Lucius. Before the waters become muddied, black is just black. If you want to whitewash it, you have to make the water black."
Voldemort shrugged. "That's more or less how you turn black into white, but it takes careful planning."
Lucius nodded, pretending to mull it over.
"Where are we going next?" Old Nott asked.
Voldemort took out his pocket watch and checked the time. "Convincing Crouch took a little longer than I expected, so let's find somewhere to sit for a while."
The others reached out and touched him. At his guidance, they instantly appeared in his office at the Riddle Building.
There was no helping it. The places where wizards gathered weren't suitable for Voldemort to show his face,