Given Barty Crouch Jr.'s understanding of Voldemort, anything he said at this moment would only worsen Voldemort's mood...
He knew this kind of oppressive silence all too well.
Back when he was still studying at Hogwarts and had not yet regarded Voldemort as his master, he had experienced something similar with his father, Barty Crouch Sr.
Whenever an Auror was killed or a Muggle settlement was destroyed, Barty Crouch Sr. would return home wearing that same expression, solemnly pondering matters and never explaining anything to him.
If he asked about it, Barty Crouch Sr. would only send him away and tell him to focus on his studies.
Yet no matter how outstanding his grades were, Barty Crouch Sr. remained just as businesslike. If something had anything to do with work, he would not reveal a single word to him.
Just as Barty Crouch Jr. had thought, Voldemort was indeed in a terrible mood.
As the little boat gradually approached the island at the center of the lake, every possibility that had still held even a trace of hope for him was swiftly denied by cold reality.
He swept his gaze across the island and saw no signs of struggle, nor any corpses. There was only a stone pillar standing at the island's center, supporting a stone basin.
Although the best possibilities had already been denied, Voldemort still let out a long breath and placed his final hope in the stone basin.
Even though he knew the hope was slim, he still wanted to see it for himself and confirm whether that Horcrux was still inside.
In any case, he would not be the one drinking the potion. His loyal servant, Barty Crouch Jr., would drink the potion in the stone basin for him.
The boat reached the shore, and he