The brief weekend had ended, and overnight, Gringotts, the goblins' stronghold, had been utterly demolished by the Death Eaters!
What remained was Gringotts, now solely under the control of wizards.
One can only imagine the unease of the wizards who rushed to Diagon Alley that morning to retrieve their money from Gringotts.
The battle-scarred Gringotts, thanks to a well-placed Repair Charm, was returned to its pristine state overnight.
In fact, it looked even newer than before.
Of course, certain distinctly goblin features had been completely removed. The opulent gold favored by the goblins was replaced with silver, a preference of Tom Riddle's.
The wizards living in Diagon Alley hadn't slept a wink. The stark contrast between the unsettling tranquility within their homes and the bloodshed outside left them deeply disturbed.
However, their concern was only for themselves; they cared nothing for the plight of those goblins.
No one liked goblins; not even a "human" could like such greedy, treacherous, and revolting creatures.
The goblins of Gringotts had been purged, and Gringotts was now in the hands of wizards—this was seen as a positive development.
At least, most wizards were pleased when they entered Gringotts the next day and saw wizards in smart suits sitting at the desks.
...
At Hogwarts, however, the atmosphere was different.
Unlike the Diagon Alley wizards, who rejoiced that the annoying goblins had finally been taught a lesson, Cassandra Volle was deeply frustrated.
Not because of the goblins, of course, but because of the situation she found herself in.
Cassandra sat in Nagini's office, glaring at the smirking woman with a dark expression that belied her inner turmoil.
To make matters worse, Cassandra knew she was in the wrong!
She couldn't bring herself to break the "contract with her allies," and even if she wanted to be angry, she was too embarrassed to show it.
I can't blame anyone else for running away first, and besides, I succeeded...
"Cassandra..."
Taking a sip of her red tea, Nagini smiled smugly, "I'm the one who lost out, really."
"Tch, no need to say it so many times! I know!"
A frustrated Cassandra crossed her arms, her right hand tapping impatiently on her left elbow.
Nagini saw the storm brewing in Cassandra's heart. She knew she couldn't push too hard; reeling Cassandra in required finesse. Forcing the issue would only make her struggle more.
So, Nagini held her tongue, giving Cassandra ample time to consider.
"..."
The surrounding silence only heightened Cassandra's agitation.
But when she met Nagini's gentle, patient gaze, she couldn't bring herself to be angry, and her eyes began to wander.
"Alright, alright! I get it!"
Gritting her teeth, Cassandra seemed recklessly determined to be done with it, completely ignoring her inner turmoil and only wanting to be rid of this frustrating feeling as quickly as possible.
"Okay, what do you want me to do?"
Relieved that Cassandra had finally relented, Nagini appeared resigned.
"Heh..."
Seeing Cassandra finally give in, Nagini couldn't help but smile slightly. "It's simple, you just need to go find Tom Riddle and tell him..."
...
The night sky was not dark; the light of the stars illuminated their path.
Outside the castle, two figures walked toward the Black Lake, one following the other.
The Forbidden Forest loomed nearby.
"So…"
Tom Riddle walked ahead, chatting casually with Nagini behind him. "Harry Potter and the others said those goblins built something dangerous, but the Death Eaters were too late to secure it, is that right?"
"I am sorry, Tom Riddle."
Nagini's eyes drooped, looking somewhat guilty. "It was my oversight; I didn't even consider that they had the ability to teleport something that huge."
"No, it's alright."
Tom Riddle, a few steps behind, expertly placed his hand on Nagini's dark hair, smoothing it and gently pinching her cheek, which felt nice. "It's not your fault; no one could have foreseen that."
Unless it was a premonition.
Whether it was the slight sting of the pinch or something else, Nagini's face flushed slightly, and she softly replied, "Mmm."
If you listened closely, you could hear a hint of joy in her voice, though it was unclear whether it was because Tom Riddle wasn't angry with her or something else entirely.
…
They arrived at the familiar Black Lake.
Thin clouds couldn't obscure the jade-like, crystalline moon. A breeze stirred the calm lake, casting a silvery sheen of moonlight on the shimmering waves, making them appear dreamlike.
Standing on the bank under a tree, looking at the scene before him and the individuals around him, Tom Riddle suddenly felt a sense of déjà vu.
It was here, on the night of the ball, that he had danced with his little snake.
"Where's Cassandra? She summoned us here, and now she's late. It seems I shall have to give her a serious talking to."
Tom Riddle wasn't stupid; he certainly sensed that something was amiss, so his words were somewhat deliberate.
But they didn't sound angry; more like teasing.
"I don't know, maybe she's busy with something?"
Nagini was also a master of deception; her feigned confusion was unconvincing. "Shall we wait a little longer?"
Tom Riddle didn't speak, but Nagini knew he agreed.
Meanwhile, Cassandra, watching from behind a tree not far away as the situation unfolded, gripped the tree so tightly her fingers were almost embedded in the bark.
The Bowtruckles on the tree, terrified by the pervasive murderous aura, scattered in all directions.
"A bull? I'm supposed to be an accomplice?"
"Heh heh heh..."
Cassandra wore a cold smile, but she didn't resort to any underhanded tactics; the young lady disdained such things.
Nagini dared to enlist her help precisely because she knew Cassandra's character.
And at that moment, the plant she had previously hastened with a potion had already climbed up the branches above Tom Riddle and Nagini's heads at precisely the right moment.
Hearing the slight rustling sound overhead, Tom Riddle "instinctively" looked up. "Mistletoe?"
Turning back to look at Nagini, the blush on her face deepened. Unlike her usual mature and intellectual demeanor, the shyness and anticipation in her eyes were clearly visible, like pure and crystalline morning dew.
"Do you know what I am thinking?"
A slightly trembling voice reached her ears. Tom Riddle didn't speak, his ever-present smile making it impossible to discern whether it was genuine or feigned.
Nagini deliberately pursed her lips. "After raising this pet snake for so long, how can you not see? You're a terrible owner."
Hearing this, Tom Riddle smiled and couldn't help but tease, "Since when has my pet snake liked to crawl all over me?"
"Oh? But I heard from others..."
Nagini looked thoughtful. "Snake owners really like to drape their snakes on their owners' bodies. They say it's one of the great joys of snake ownership. If you haven't experienced it, you've wasted your time. Don't you want to try?"
"Is that so?"
Tom Riddle gently stroked his little snake's pale pink earlobe, his fingers sliding down to lightly pinch Nagini's chin, tilting it slightly. "Then I cannot miss out on this opportunity, can I?"
"Is this your answer?"
"Yes, is this the answer you want?"
"..."
Nagini didn't speak, but simply wrapped her arms around the back of Tom Riddle's neck, gently rising on her tiptoes, answering Tom Riddle's question with her actions.
No rejection, just a deep and affectionate acceptance.
Tom Riddle's thoughts had never changed; his obsession had never diminished.
But he had feelings. Perhaps he wasn't the one who understood love most deeply in Dumbledore's eyes, but he knew what he liked and disliked.
He liked what he liked. His proud apprentice and the obedient little snake—their long-term interaction had brought about a perfect harmony. These two gave him different feelings; so ever since Tom Riddle realized this last time, this was his answer.
He wasn't someone whose heart was solely filled with unwavering pursuits. Life, besides the goal of immortality, always needs some lubrication, like his past learning of magic.
He, the Dark Lord, didn't need to pretend like those pretentious types. He didn't need to reject those he liked, nor would he. Once he decided to accept, he had no intention of letting go.
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