I became Voldemort

Chapter 240: Wand Inspection

Cyrus wasn't particularly excited about the difficulty of the Triwizard Tournament.

To be honest, unless the tournament involved a direct confrontation between him, Dumbledore, and Grindelwald, what challenge in this world could possibly stop them?

Their magical power was so immense that other wizards couldn't even fathom its limits.

For Cyrus, a dragon that normally required seven or eight trained wizards to `subdue was no more than a pet dog. The trials that the International Confederation of Wizards had decided on might seem like nothing but a blatant joke to them.

Moreover, the confederation had to consider the other contestants besides just the three of them. With that in mind, the difficulty of the tournament was unlikely to be too great.

But Cyrus didn't really care about that.

The process and outcome of the first two tasks weren't important. What truly mattered was the third task—or even after the tournament concluded. As long as he could defeat Dumbledore in a direct fight under the watchful eyes of the entire world, that would be enough.

Before the official tournament began, there was a series of complicated preparations.

For example, the champions had to participate in an exclusive interview with The Daily Prophet.

This time, the Prophet had teamed up with several renowned wizarding newspapers from around the world, making it a global opportunity.

With Cyrus's guidance, Rita Skeeter didn't focus on trivial gossip but instead dedicated most of her ink to Dumbledore and Grindelwald.

The woman repeatedly hinted to Cyrus that she knew some hidden secrets about Dumbledore and Grindelwald, wearing a mischievous smile as she spoke. It was clear she was referring to their private, scandalous affairs.

"If you're willing, I could publish these stories. This isn't something I made up..." Rita Skeeter spoke in her sickly sweet tone, clasping her gold- and silver-adorned hands together tightly. "This would be a huge scoop!"

"I didn't spend all those Galleons to bail you out of Azkaban just so you could report gossip, Ms. Skeeter," Cyrus leaned back on the sofa, casually observing the overly adorned woman before him.

He needed a loudspeaker, someone to amplify the discussion about the Triwizard Tournament and make it a hotter topic in the wizarding world.

A bit of light gossip as decoration wouldn't hurt, but if Dumbledore and Grindelwald's personal history were exposed, the world's attention would likely shift away from the tournament itself.

Cyrus did plan to defeat Dumbledore, but not like that.

The higher Dumbledore's international reputation, the more valuable it would be to defeat him.

"Are you sure? But gossip is often what attracts the most interest," Rita Skeeter persisted, still not giving up. "People love to learn about the hidden, ugly secrets behind those who seem to be above everyone else...

"Sometimes, they don't even care about the truth..."

"Not necessary." Cyrus's golden eyes swept across her, his authoritative gaze piercing through Rita Skeeter's flamboyant exterior, as if seeing straight into her soul.

"All you need to do is prepare for after the tournament—make sure the whole world knows that in 1995, Cyrus defeated the greatest wizard, Albus Dumbledore!"

Rita Skeeter felt as if she were a vampire standing under the scorching sun, suffering.

"A-Alright, if you insist..." she squirmed uncomfortably in her chair, her brightly painted nails tapping on the teacup before setting it down again. She glanced at Cyrus several times, looking a bit hesitant.

"What's the matter?" Cyrus lightly frowned.

He wasn't particularly fond of Rita Skeeter.

His dislike for her was almost on par with his feelings toward Lockhart, if not worse, but he was polite. Now that Rita Skeeter was working for him, he could afford to show some tolerance.

"I was just thinking..." Rita Skeeter fidgeted with the teacup in her hands, casting a sickeningly flirtatious glance, "perhaps you could do me the honor of sharing a drink with me?"

Cyrus: ???

Cyrus was stunned. He couldn't fathom that someone as unattractive as Rita Skeeter could have such lofty thoughts, even daring to suggest having a drink with him.

Then again, with his looks, he could attract most women.

Even Cedric couldn't compare to him.

But... Rita Skeeter?

No, thank you.

Fortunately, at that moment, Cassandra, with her golden hair, walked in.

She strode past Rita Skeeter with an air of arrogance, casting a disdainful glance at the woman who dared to daydream before promptly ignoring her.

"Professor, the wand inspection has started. Madam Bellatrix asked me to bring you over."

"I understand." Cyrus stood up from his chair, showing no sign of apology as he said to Rita, "My apologies, Ms. Skeeter. It seems we'll have to postpone that to another time."

After Cyrus finished speaking, he and Cassandra left together.

The wand inspection was being held in an empty classroom where no lessons were taking place. By the time Cyrus and Cassandra arrived, all the other champions had already prepared themselves.

The judges sat upright behind a table draped with black velvet.

Grindelwald, with his legs crossed, leaned back in a chair, looking more like an inspector than a participant.

Ollivander was examining Harry's wand. He took his time but didn't offer much commentary, merely confirming that the wand was in good condition.

"Very well, all the champions' wands have been checked, except for... you three," Babajide turned his head, looking at Dumbledore, Grindelwald, and the newly arrived Cyrus.

"I'll go first," Grindelwald volunteered. His sharp, predatory gaze swept over everyone like a seabird hunting its prey, and then he smiled. "My wand is the most ordinary one here, nothing as legendary as yours."

He handed over his wand, and Cyrus glanced at it. As Grindelwald had said, it was an unremarkable wand. There were no intricate carvings, and unlike some wands, it wasn't bent. It looked like a simple dried twig, so plain that it seemed almost unworthy of someone like Grindelwald.

"Pinewood," Ollivander conjured a glass of red wine with his wand, "Dragon heartstring core. The wand is in fine condition."

He handed the wand back to Grindelwald, then turned his attention to Dumbledore and Cyrus. Grindelwald's previous comment had drawn much attention.

Harry, for instance, had quietly made his way over to Cyrus.

Nudging Cyrus with his elbow, he whispered, "What did he mean by that? What 'legend'?"

Harry wasn't the only one curious.

Fleur from Beauxbatons and Krum from Durmstrang, along with everyone else, had their ears perked up, eager to hear if Cyrus would provide an answer to satisfy their curiosity.

"You'll find out soon enough, Harry," Cyrus replied, not revealing anything immediately. In just a few seconds, Dumbledore had already handed over his wand, which looked thin and knobbly, almost like a skeletal finger.

The moment Ollivander saw the wand, he froze.

His eyes widened dramatically, as if they might tear at the corners.

He took the wand carefully, holding both ends delicately, as though afraid it might crumble at the slightest touch.

"There's no need to be so cautious, Garrick. It's not as fragile as it looks," Dumbledore said with a touch of humor.

But Ollivander took a deep breath, looking up with a gleam in his eyes. "Is it really... Dumbledore? The legendary one? The Elder Wand!"

Everyone was stunned by Ollivander's question.

The judges were dumbfounded.

Bellatrix, in particular, looked incredulous.

"No wonder even Voldemort couldn't defeat you all those years ago. The legend of the Elder Wand is true?"

Her comment stung Barty Crouch Jr., but he didn't have time to be offended on his master's behalf. His gaze was now fixed on the Elder Wand, filled with pure greed.

If he could get his hands on that wand, would the Dark Lord still fear that imposter, Cyrus?

"What's the Elder Wand?" Harry whispered, his voice low.

"This is a very popular legend in the wizarding world, Harry," Cyrus explained. "Almost every child born into the wizarding world has heard the tale of the Deathly Hallows and the three brothers. It's about as well-known as 'Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs' is among Muggles. The difference is that Muggle fairy tales are just stories, while wizarding tales may be based in reality.

"In short, it's a wand that makes its wielder unbeatable. The wizard who possesses the Elder Wand will never lose a duel, not even against Death itself! Or that's what the legend says."

Cyrus's amber-gold eyes flickered with thought. He had once wielded a fake version of the Elder Wand during Fitzgerald's trial, and the experience had been overwhelming. It felt as if the wand contained an endless reservoir of power, making all enemies seem insignificant before him.

As for the real Elder Wand, even he wasn't entirely sure how powerful it truly was.

According to the ancient legend that had been passed down for thousands of years, very few owners of the Elder Wand ever passed it on through honorable duels. Most of the time, it changed hands through assassination or ambush.

Perhaps the only exception was the famous duel between Dumbledore and Grindelwald. But whether that truly counted as a legitimate transfer of ownership, Cyrus couldn't say—he hadn't witnessed the duel himself.

Dumbledore had only ever admitted that he was more skilled in certain "techniques" than Grindelwald, not that he possessed far superior magical power.

"Ahh—" Ollivander sighed as he ran his hands over the Elder Wand, caressing every intricate groove as if it were a masterpiece. His voice was filled with awe, completely captivated by the exquisite craftsmanship of the wand.

He had always believed that the wand chooses the wizard, and this principle was never more evident than with the Elder Wand. It seemed almost alive, able to discern its true master.

Despite Ollivander recognizing its extraordinary nature, he knew he couldn't tap into its full power.

After several minutes, Ollivander reluctantly handed the wand back to Dumbledore.

The last person to undergo the wand inspection was Cyrus.

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