Only the sound of hoarse breathing echoed through the basement.
Wormtail huddled in a corner, his whole body trembling slightly from the lingering effects of the Cruciatus Curse.
Clearly, that remark had earned him another bout of inhuman torture.
His small, watery eyes were fixed on the blanket-wrapped shadow of his master, filled with fear.
"Master..." But for the sake of his safety from then on, he forced down his fear and asked, "What... what should we do?"
Voldemort did not answer immediately.
His scarlet eyes moved slowly in the darkness, betraying a morbid pensiveness.
Only after a long while did he speak, his low voice seeming to come from the depths of a grave. "Barty was right."
Wormtail froze for a moment.
"What?"
"I said, Barty Crouch was right."
For the first time, Voldemort's voice carried a trace of... restrained, rational calm.
"Reckless, direct action... will only send us straight into their trap. That damned Holmes, and that golden Skynet..."
He paused, a deep, almost imperceptible wariness flickering through his voice.
"I underestimated them."
Wormtail's eyes widened.
Master... Master actually admitted it?
Wait, why?
I made the same suggestions, but every suggestion earned me another round of torture.
Why did the other man, who wasn't even here...
Voldemort seemed to see through his thoughts and hissed:
"Stupidity is nothing to be ashamed of, Wormtail. What is truly shameful is failing to reflect after a defeat. Albus... he never makes the same mistake twice."
His small, pale hand emerged from the blanket and pointed at the scattered pile of materials before Wormtail.
"You did well. These materials... you put a great deal of care into them! In that respect, you're better than Barty!"
"Master... what else do you need?"
Wormtail suddenly felt a little happy. At last, he had received