In the darkness, Wormtail sobbed intermittently.
But the aftereffects of the Cruciatus Curse still pulsed through every nerve ending in his body, like countless invisible, hungry Fire Crabs gnawing at his sanity.
The air in the basement, with its mingled dampness, decay, and rank snake odor.
Seemed to have seeped into his marrow and become part of his soul.
Every breath felt like inhaling despair.
Voldemort's weak but icy voice echoed over and over in his mind, like an inscription on a gravestone.
"Useless..."
"What can you bring me besides failure?"
"I need a potion to stabilize this body, Wormtail! Fail once more, and you will have no reason to exist."
"Nagini... is very hungry."
Even now, the giant snake's cold, slit pupils still seemed fixed on him, like two searchlights from hell.
Wormtail curled up on the cold, damp stone floor, his small, thin body shaking violently with utter terror.
He knew his master was not bluffing.
If he failed again, he would certainly die.
Not possibly. Certainly.
But what else could he do?
All the usual channels had been blocked.
Knockturn Alley's black market was now cleaner than Diagon Alley.
Those damned Aurors had been equipped with the Marauders Power Company's new detectors.
Like a pack of keen-nosed hounds, they left no unregistered Dark Magic materials anywhere to hide.
The smugglers who had once been willing to risk their necks for a few Galleons had all vanished after the Greengrass family's warehouse was rooted out, as though they had disappeared off the face of the earth.
The entire underworld of the United Kingdom's wizarding world lay beneath that invisible "golden net," purged as thoroughly as if it had been soaked in bleach.
Fear, like an icy venomous snake, slowly coiled around his heart, tightening until it nearly squeezed