"Jerry, as far as I know, the Apostles have always been controlled by the four Archbishops and their families. Not one of those families is named Green. I don't believe you're content to bow to those four names!"
Voldemort stood in the shadows. The Fiendfyre Jerry had used against the Basilisk last time still haunted him. He knew better than anyone that extraordinary talent came with enormous ambition, even in a second-year student like Jerry.
His voice brimmed with confidence, as though he were using magic to tempt Jerry. It was low and beguiling, almost impossible to resist.
Well, well. Jerry listened to Voldemort's clownish pitch with his head lowered against a stone pillar. He put on a thoughtful expression, as if Voldemort's words had stirred the ambition buried deep inside him.
But Voldemort's actions showed that he did not expect to win Jerry over so easily. He kept his distance, wary of coming too close, and watched for any move Jerry made toward Ginny Weasley.
Jerry stared at him, speechless. Seriously? Whatever happened to basic trust?
Still, Voldemort had reminded Jerry of something. The four Archbishops' families had controlled the Apostles for far too long.
The other three Archbishops could wait, but Jerry had no intention of letting the Third Bishop or his family off the hook!
Jerry gave a cold snort and walked toward Ginny Weasley at an unhurried pace.
Up close, he examined her carefully. Ginny's eyes were vacant, fixed on the space ahead. Her face was deathly pale, and even her breathing was so faint it seemed it might stop at any moment.
She clearly had no will of her own left. She was like a puppet.
"Aren't you afraid I'll take the Diary from her? It's your Horcrux!" Jerry asked, glancing back at Voldemort in