Hogwarts: I will not become the Dark Lord

Three days later, in the early morning, as the dawn gently covered the manor's garden like a veil, Jerry found Andre Albert there.

“Your Excellency, what are your orders?” Andre Albert's voice carried its usual respect and humility.

“Andre, there should be a basement in the manor, right?”

Andre Albert nodded vigorously, not expecting someone so young to have such a perverted hobby! Requesting death row inmates, in the basement, with such unique tastes.

Andre didn't dare to ask too much. Knowing too many secrets of your superiors isn't safe, as long as Jerry doesn't ask him to find men!

As he stepped out of the garden, Catherine quickly walked in.

“Your Excellency, urgent news! Intelligence just received indicates that the Third Bishop has left New York and returned to headquarters!” Catherine rushed into the garden, her expression hurried, clutching a freshly received intelligence report in her hand.

“Left?” Hearing this news, Jerry frowned, his voice revealing confusion and doubt. “Did Ezekiel just leave like that? He wouldn't be willing to end things like this without finding out what happened in New York, would he?” He paused, continuing to ask, “What about Aldrich Mamon? Is he still alive?”

“Yes, Your Excellency. After the Third Bishop went crazy in the Muggle streets, causing the deaths of many Muggles, although the Magical Congress of the United States found a scapegoat to quell the public opinion, a large number of Aurors are still searching for his whereabouts. Last night, he destroyed traces of the past in the flames of his burning manor and then hurriedly left New York,” Catherine nodded, continuing, “However, Aldrich Mamon is still in New York, but as far as we know, his mental state seems to have become abnormal since he accidentally killed Mier Mamon a few days ago. He's become crazy now.”

“What a pity, I thought there would be a ‘fatherly love and filial piety’ show!” Jerry sighed softly, a hint of regret and pity on his face.

“Your Excellency, now that the Third Bishop has left New York, isn't this the best time to find Aldrich Mamon?” Catherine urged anxiously.

“Don't rush, wait a little longer.” Hearing this, Jerry stood up unhurriedly, stretched his body gently, and then shook his head with a smile. What if it's a trap? It's better to be cautious and wait a few more days for definite news.

Late one night a week later, a faint flapping sound suddenly came from the silent night sky. An owl stood on the windowsill, tapping on the bedroom window. Jerry woke up from his sleep, yawned, and after waving his hand to open the window, the owl flew in and landed steadily on his bedside table.

Jerry got up and sat on the bedside, gently taking the envelope from the owl's beak. Having completed its mission, the owl then gently flapped its wings and quietly flew out of the room through the window.

“Why would an owl deliver a letter so late?” Catherine was awakened by the slight noise. She rubbed her eyes groggily, then sat up, gently pressed against Jerry's waist, rested her chin lightly on his shoulder, and asked softly.

“A letter from Sophia Mamon!” Jerry said softly to Catherine behind him, “A thank-you letter, thanking me for helping her husband return to his family, and also thanking me for solving the problem of that mistress and illegitimate child for her.”

Hearing Jerry's words, Catherine woke up completely, looking at the letter in Jerry's hand by the faint light in the room. The letter mentioned that the Third Bishop had returned to his family headquarters and was having his family and subordinates fully investigate what happened in New York.

“I knew the Third Bishop wouldn't leave so willingly!” Catherine murmured softly in Jerry's ear.

“Sophia Mamon is really a good wife, the Third Bishop is blessed to have her!” Jerry smiled.

“But this still doesn't change the fact that Sophia Mamon is also a fool!” Catherine sneered, her tone full of undisguised mockery. “She thinks she's very clever, using Your Excellency to get rid of Mier Mamon and Aldrich Mamon, and then everything will be fine. How naive and ridiculous! Does she think she still has a choice now!”

“You are quite smart!” Jerry smiled slightly, giving Catherine an admiring look. “But you're right, isn't she very fond of the Third Bishop Ezekiel? We can make good use of that!”

Early the next morning, just as Jerry and Catherine got up, finished breakfast, and were about to go find Aldrich Mamon and stroll around the streets of New York, they were intercepted by Canterbury, who had rushed over.

Canterbury's eyes carefully scrutinized Jerry, and he couldn't help but feel doubtful.

He didn't know if she had listened to everything he had said to Catherine alone last time. But at this moment, he keenly noticed that the atmosphere between Jerry and Catherine seemed more harmonious, and their relationship was even closer.

“Your Excellency, are you and Miss Feres about to go find Aldrich Mamon?” Canterbury suddenly asked, his expression serious. “If so, I advise you not to go.”

Jerry frowned, looking at Canterbury in confusion. “What does this mean?”

“Aldrich Mamon has been murdered.” Canterbury's words carried a hint of heaviness.

“What?!” Jerry suddenly stood up from the long table, his face instantly turning ugly. He turned to Andre Albert and questioned sternly, “Who did it? Didn't I tell you to take good care of him and not let anything happen to him?”

“Your Excellency, I… I…” Andre Albert was stunned by Jerry's sudden questioning, stammering to explain. He really didn't expect such a thing to happen, that Aldrich Mamon would suddenly die.

“Aldrich Mamon's body, no, what about his soul?” Jerry turned to Canterbury anxiously and asked.

“He had already been killed when I went!” Canterbury handed a small transparent bottle to Jerry. “Only this little bit of his soul is left!”

Jerry quickly took the soul bottle, its size only comparable to Jerry's thumb. The bottle was clear and transparent, and the silver-white lines were like fine cracks, slowly extending upwards from the bottom of the bottle until they touched the mouth of the bottle. The gray-white ink-like liquid inside occasionally emitted a strange red glow.

"Enough!" Jerry looked at the soul points in the bottle and nodded, secretly relieved.

"Who is the murderer?" Jerry asked Canterbury.

"Your Grace, are you sure it's not...?" Canterbury hesitated, his hawk-like eyes fixed on Jerry.

"It's not me!" Jerry shook his head firmly, his voice resolute and calm. "Since the Third Bishop didn't act, I wouldn't do such a stupid thing. Even if I really needed Aldrich's soul, I would never choose this method."

"There are many ways to obtain souls. I only need a portion of the fragments. Mier Mamen is dead, so right now, he is more valuable to me alive than dead."

This was Jerry's honest thought. Although Aldrich was just a bastard, he was still the son of the Third Bishop. If used properly, he could become a pawn to restrain the Third Bishop and threaten Sophia Mamen.

Jerry would never do such a foolish thing as killing the goose that lays the golden eggs!

"Then, who exactly is the murderer?" Jerry's brain worked rapidly, trying to find the answer from the complex clues. The letter from last night suddenly appeared in his mind, and a name gradually became clear in his heart.

"It's her!" A sharp glint flashed in Jerry's eyes.

The only one so eager for Aldrich to die was Sophia Mamen, Jerry thought to himself.

Catherine grabbed Jerry's hand, she also thought of Sophia Mamen.

"Your Grace, have you and Miss Catherine already identified the murderer?" Canterbury asked tentatively.

"Hmph!" Jerry snorted coldly, staring at Canterbury with sharp eyes, "Canterbury, why do you think I am the murderer? Even if I killed Aldrich, so what? Are you planning to arrest me and hand me over to the Third Bishop?"

"The Apostles are forever loyal to Your Grace..." Canterbury explained in a deep voice. How could he not suspect! How could the things you did against Aldrich before not raise suspicion!

"It seems that the abilities of your Law Enforcement Team are not as outstanding as Catherine said," Jerry said with extreme sarcasm. "I ask you, as a bastard, who would want Aldrich dead the most?"

Jerry's words silenced Canterbury. His silence was not due to anger at Jerry's sarcasm, but because Jerry's words had sparked a different possibility in his mind.

He began to recall the previous schemes against the Third Bishop, and a question arose in his mind: Did his wife, Sophia Mamen, participate in the previous plan against the Third Bishop? This thought exploded in his mind like a bombshell, forcing him to re-examine Jerry Green before him.

...

As night fell, Jerry gently pulled Catherine to the bedside. The figures of the two were elongated in the faint light, creating a subtle and tense atmosphere.

"Your Grace..." Catherine's voice carried a hint of nervousness and excitement, which then turned into confusion.

Jerry's left hand tightly grasped the transparent bottle, and the broken soul of Aldrich Mamen inside the bottle seemed like solidified night, quietly emitting a faint light. Jerry's right hand gently wrapped Catherine's hand, pressing the back of her hand against his forehead.

"As expected..." Jerry muttered to himself, his brow furrowed, his eyes fixed on the bottle. He slowly released Catherine's hand, as if letting go of a heavy burden, but his mood became even heavier.

A strange chill surged in Jerry's heart. He felt that he was standing in front of a huge conspiracy, and the truth was still hidden in the deep darkness.

"Catherine," Jerry raised his head, looking at Catherine with a serious expression, his tone carrying unprecedented seriousness, "I hope you can answer the following question honestly, and promise me to keep the following conversation a secret!"

Seeing Jerry suddenly become serious, the smile on Catherine's face disappeared, and she returned to her usual cold and glamorous appearance.

"Your Grace, please ask. As long as I know, I will answer truthfully."

"Okay," Jerry took a deep breath and slowly voiced the question in his heart, "Regarding Voldemort's soul, what are you going to do with him?"

Ever since Jerry sensed the unusual soul fluctuations in Catherine, he had been suspicious. Although Catherine's soul was completely different from Voldemort's evil soul, they both had one thing in common, that is, they both had an irresistible attraction to Jerry.

Just now, Jerry once again felt the same attraction from the fragmented soul of Aldrich Mamen. The soul fragment was neither as unique as Catherine's, nor as evil as Voldemort's, but it still aroused the strong devouring, restlessness, and desire in Jerry's heart, as if facing Voldemort's soul fragment, full of irresistible temptation.

Although Jerry had not yet met the Second Bishop, he had a vague guess in his heart as to why the Apostles were controlled by the First, Second, and Third Bishops, or rather, by three families.

Voldemort, that poor wretch, might just be a substitute created!

"This is naturally for the advancement ceremony. This most evil and sinister soul is the sacrifice for the ceremony," Catherine looked directly at Jerry, her eyes revealing confusion, as if she didn't understand why he would ask this question.

"Are you sure?" Jerry pressed on, continuing to question.

"Your Grace, I swear to you, everything I just said is the truth?"

"No need," Jerry frowned, but then relaxed, "I believe your words!"

He changed the subject and continued to ask: "Then, regarding this sacrifice, besides Voldemort's soul, are there any other things needed?"

"Your Grace, I... I don't know!" Catherine shook her head upon hearing this, a blank expression on her face, "After obtaining your exact birth date through divination, the previous generation of the Second and Third Bishops and my grandfather began to select and prepare sacrifices for you in accordance with the millennial tradition and rules of the Apostles. So, I don't know whether there are other sacrifices besides Voldemort's soul, and I have never heard of any other sacrifices."

Jerry nodded slightly, then sighed and fell into deep thought. He was not sure if his guess was correct, but if Voldemort was really created by the three bishops as a substitute for their soul sacrifice, then it would be interesting.

Of course, this was not the most worrying thing for him. An even bolder idea sprouted in his heart, that is, could Voldemort have been created as a substitute for someone else? This thought, once it emerged, was like a prairie fire that was difficult to suppress, making Jerry's mood even heavier.

If his guess was correct, and Catherine was also telling the truth, then it meant that someone had tampered with the Apostles' content regarding the three bishops and concealed it from everyone!