"Master," Yaxley hurriedly added, "Master, please don't worry just yet. Could the problem lie with Scrimgeour?
Perhaps he hid some of the material?"
At Yaxley's words, Voldemort's eyes flickered—there really was a possibility.
Putting himself in Scrimgeour's shoes, he had to admit that if he possessed something as powerful as [Origin Spells], he would never share it.
These spells could turn the formerly unremarkable Scrimgeour into someone capable of fighting him.
Something like that was a priceless treasure. How could anyone publicize it so widely and distribute it for free?
Unless they had a countermeasure—such as holding something back.
Voldemort's eyes gleamed. That was indeed very possible.
Scrimgeour could release some of the material that would improve the Aurors' abilities while keeping the most essential parts for himself. That would strengthen the Aurors without leaving him afraid that others could threaten him with Origin Spells.
Scrimgeour wasn't entirely brainless after all.
With that thought, Voldemort lost some of his interest. These so-called [Origin Spells] amounted to nothing more than this. There was no need to study them in depth; a cursory look would suffice.
The other two Deathly Hallows were far more important.
Those were what would decide the outcome of his future battle with Dumbledore and the others, not this watered-down version of some [Origin Spells].
"Tell Will to be careful, all the same. At this final stage, I don't want anything happening to someone who has done so much for me," Voldemort instructed Yaxley. "As for everything else, proceed as usual. Speed up the selection and training of the Death Eaters I asked you to handle."
For Will, the past few days had been exhausting. There were all his classes and schoolwork, as well as his work with Professor Flitwick to develop the potion-making method based on