After Newt Disapparated, the Albanian forest seemed to sink back into undisturbed silence.
About a hundred metres away from the tree hollow, deep within the dense canopy, a lead-grey viper lay silently coiled around a thick horizontal branch.
Its triangular head protruded slightly from the cover of the leaves, its slit pupils fixed on the spot where Newt had just been standing before he vanished. Its tongue flicked out from time to time.
This was highly unusual.
It was winter. Under normal circumstances, snakes should have been hibernating long ago.
Suddenly, wisps of dense black mist seeped out from between the viper's fine scales.
Its body stiffened abruptly. The cold gleam in its eyes quickly faded, leaving them dull and lifeless like dust-covered glass beads.
"Thud."
As though it had lost whatever had been sustaining it, the snake went limp and fell straight from the branch, striking the cold, hard ground below. It bounced slightly before lying completely still.
On the branch where the viper had been perched, a pitch-black soul with constantly shifting, distorted edges slowly materialised.
It had no fixed shape, resembling a mass of shadow so dense that it refused to disperse. Where its eyes should have been, two faintly pulsing clusters of crimson mist floated.
It was Voldemort.
Ever since the body of his unfortunate servant Quirrell had been destroyed at Hogwarts the previous year, this weak and miserable remnant of a soul had fled in panic, eventually drifting back to this remote forest in Albania.
His two crimson "eyes" stared fixedly at the clearing where Newt had vanished. His entire soul trembled violently with rage and frustration, causing the surrounding temperature to drop sharply.
Damn it! Newt Scamander! Why was he here?!
Voldemort had a basic understanding of the more famous figures in the wizarding world, especially those who had not openly sided with him during the previous war or who possessed unusual talents that might pose a threat.
The wizard from earlier, carrying that distinctive suitcase and constantly surrounded by animals, was easy enough to identify with a little observation.
How had Newt encountered Nagini? And how had he taken her away?!
At the thought, the black mist forming Voldemort's soul churned even more violently.
Even after losing his physical body and being reduced to the most wretched kind of wandering spirit, his ability to speak Parseltongue had never disappeared.
He firmly believed that this was proof of the blood he had inherited from his great ancestor, Salazar Slytherin, a symbol of both lineage and power.
During the time he had spent wandering through this forest, Voldemort had used that ability to establish a connection with the enormous, unusually intelligent dark green serpent known as Nagini.
That snake was far too unusual.
She was neither an ordinary animal nor a magical creature.
Whenever Voldemort communicated with her, he could clearly sense an intelligence and awareness far beyond that of an ordinary snake. She could even understand his complicated thoughts and emotions.
During those years of weakness and loneliness, when he could only survive by possessing lesser animals, this intelligent and powerful venomous snake had become almost the only being Voldemort could regard as a "conversational partner."
She had provided him with a small measure of twisted comfort, almost like a special... "friend."
A subtle but stable magical connection had already formed between them.
Voldemort had planned everything out. Once he had recovered enough strength, he would find an opportunity to kill someone, tear off a fragment of his soul, and place it within Nagini, turning her into a Horcrux. In that way, they would share immortality and remain together forever.
But now, all of it had been ruined.
Why had Newt Scamander appeared in this wilderness?!
Rage and confusion burned through his weakened soul.
Earlier, when he sensed Newt approaching and confronting Nagini from afar, he had tried to use their special connection to order Nagini to attack.
Nagini had clearly responded at first, so why had the attack suddenly failed? How had Scamander managed to evade it?
The distance between them had been too great. Combined with the extreme weakness of Voldemort's soul and the limitations of possessing an ordinary viper, he had been unable to clearly see the magical light flickering around Newt's wrists and waist.
All he had seen was Nagini lunging forward, only to be inexplicably subdued and taken away.
Years of studying the Dark Arts and their corruption of the soul, together with the pain and frustration caused by repeated failures, further agitated Voldemort's already unstable remnant soul.
The churning black mist spread outward, adding a bone-deep chill to the already freezing air around him.
At Hogwarts the previous year, aside from the expected Harry Potter, a detestable boy named Lucien had somehow appeared out of nowhere. After fighting him, Voldemort's soul had become even weaker and more unstable than before.
Now, he could only survive by possessing small animals in the forest. Even snakes, which were the most compatible with him, could not endure his soul filled with dark magic for long. Their fragile bodies usually collapsed and died within a few days.
Voldemort had to find a way to gather enough life force to nourish and strengthen his soul as soon as possible. His goal remained unchanged. He needed to seize a proper human body or find some way to restore his physical form.
Nagini had originally been part of that plan, a powerful helper already within his grasp.
And now?
How had Newt Scamander suddenly appeared out of nowhere?!
Violent killing intent spread like venom through every corner of Voldemort's soul.
Just wait.
Once the great Dark Lord possessed a body that allowed him to move freely again, he would find Newt Scamander, kill him in the most painful way imaginable, and take Nagini back.
And that boy named Lucien...
The mist forming Voldemort's soul flickered violently.
Everyone who stood in his way, everyone who had subjected him to the humiliation of failure, deserved to die.
They all deserved to die...
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