Harry Potter’s Natural Villain

In the gorgeous underground palace, countless bricks made of gold are placed in piles, perhaps the tomb of a certain king, or the remains of a wizard.

At the end of the ruins, dozens of luxurious crystals shone with intoxicating brilliance under the illumination of the lights, and the beautiful halo refracted made people intoxicated.

However, these exquisite ornaments were like the bombs inside were detonated in a blink of an eye. Suddenly, a series of explosions exploded, and the fragments did not splash. It was like a building collapsed, and the fragments were scattered like sand.

In front of the group of treasures stood a black-robed man.

The facial features on his face are extremely strange, his eyes are extremely scarlet, his nose is almost invisible, there are only two gaps left, and his skull is extremely prominent, and the direction of his head bones can almost be clearly seen.

It was none other than the Dark Lord.

Voldemort vented his emotions violently. .

It seems that someone can always guess his actions, one step ahead of him, or what he wants to pursue and can't get what he wants. Now the underground palace he is in is the relic left by the twelfth ancient wizard he has explored. .

Muggle wealth and ordinary magic items didn't appeal to him at all.

He wasted nearly half a year on this.

The only Ilvermorny school of magic associated with his ancestors with a definite legend, went to the same school and returned empty-handed.

Snake wood did not recognize him, and when he tried to forcibly pull it out, it quickly withered.

In addition, there are many more, no need to repeat them.

At this time, in the face of everything in front of him, Voldemort waved his wand at will, and a few beams of flames rose up in front of him, and a fire that was a hundred times brighter than the beaded light rose up, burning out the carefully crafted coffin.

The cloud pattern star map carefully drawn next to the coffin seemed to flow like life, and then it was cut off and burned.

Those in power couldn't think of the many measures that they made to rest in peace, and they still couldn't let themselves sleep peacefully after death.

"All right."

He made a choice irritably, and he let the nasty reptiles at Hogwarts live for a while longer,

He originally planned to settle accounts first, and then explore slowly.

A person's power is limited.

After he has mastered the resources of the entire wizarding world, it may be easier to find it.

After flashing this thought, his mood seemed to have improved a lot.

He made a decision, just a thought time, this man disappeared into the tomb, as if he had never been in the future.

A powerful sense of oppression suddenly crept into Malfoy's heart.

At this time, he was lying on the armchair, with a desk in front of him. He unconsciously flipped through the Muggle dictionary, looked at the words on it, read it mechanically, and used this method to relieve the problems caused by some reasons. discomfort.

When he saw the term "batudigua spider"

Because of this palpitating feeling, he suddenly closed the dictionary with a slap.

The man finally came back.

Unexpectedly, without any warning.

Of course, the behavior of the superiors does not require any explanation to the lower layers, nor does it require a trace of rehearsal.

In the spacious reception room, the Dark Lord sat on the elaborately crafted throne, reflecting a faint cold light all over his body.

Looking around the room, the flames in the marble fireplace have been extinguished for a long time, hanging on one side of the wall, the crystal lighting on the ceiling in the center of the hall is dim, the only useful thing is the silver candlesticks hanging by chains on several sides, the candles above emit a faint glow. of light.

The house that used to be bright became so dim for a while.

However, in terms of cleanliness, it is well maintained, and he has not been neglected because of his long absence.

Every once in a while, there are house-elves to keep it clean.

The Malfoy family now lives a rather "luxurious" life.

There is Kreacher in the old house, and there is Dobby here. Crouch's Wink completely lost his sense of self and was brought back here.

Although her wit has disappeared due to excessive self-blame and some mental blows, it is still no problem to do some simple mechanical work.

Suddenly, Voldemort frowned, irritated by the noise outside the courtyard.

Those growls and roars are really annoying.

The door was suddenly pushed open by an invisible force, revealing a gap. At the same time, some natural light was thrown in, and a faint green light penetrated through the open gap between the two werewolves biting each other.

"I'm not here, you seem to have forgotten the rules." Voldemort said coldly.

For werewolves, death may be the norm.

In other words, in their bloodthirsty brains, they had no definition and understanding of the profound philosophical proposition of death, but it still triggered his fear.

For a time, according to the distance from Voldemort, all the Death Eaters with the Dark Mark on their arms felt different degrees of burns.

Many Death Eaters rushed here.

The long table in front of the Dark Lord was filled with all kinds of wizards in a blink of an eye.

He looked around.

"If I don't come back, maybe you're all dead, in ridiculous cannibalism."

"Draco, I've read your information, it's pretty good." He glanced sideways and said approvingly.

"Where's Severus? Hmm... on the way there."

The thin sheet of paper floated upright in front of his eyes, and Voldemort narrowed his eyes slightly. Every time he skipped a sheet, the paper would automatically burn out into a blue flame.

Malfoy bowed his head and accepted the review of the Dark Lord, but out of the corner of the eye, he swept secretly from under the throne.

Nagini is not there.

"Aren't you looking very good?" Voldemort was keenly aware.

However, just as the capitalist "cares" about the physical condition of the laborer, just wondering if they can continue to create value for him.

So did Voldemort.

"It's okay, Master." Malfoy bowed slightly, accepting the Dark Lord's "concern" calmly.

Then, Voldemort tapped on the table with his long, pale fingers, and blood oozes from the table in front of all the werewolves.

"Stop thirsting for the blood of your own kind."

"There are endless opportunities in the future."

"The only advantage of Muggles is that there are many people, and inferior creatures always hope to rely on numbers for some inexplicable comfort."

A series of words is not implied, but explicit.

The Dark Lord would soon start a war, from the wizarding world to Muggle society.

Voldemort scrutinized the group of serviles, not daring to look directly at his subordinates.

"I don't want to see any more ridiculous cannibalism by my subordinates."

"Vampire, fugitive wizard of South America... I hope you can change." Voldemort rubbed his wand in his hand.

Under the steps, the wizard who was hiding in his cloak, and the man in the well-dressed uniform, whose complexion was paler than the Dark Lord, shuddered involuntarily.

"I also hope that, as a slave, there is a sense of slavery."

"In addition, as a guest of this manor, you must also have the self-consciousness of the guest." I hope you understand.

"At least, don't mess with other people's homes, do you, Draco."

Malfoy could only nod his head slightly, neither showing hesitation nor showing he didn't care.

The Dark Lord's move was obviously to play on the topic, just to establish his prestige.

"In the future, I will bring you fresh and delicious food." Voldemort knocked on the table, and the blood-filled fresh meat and the blood in the wine glass flashed on the table.

There were frantic screaming cheers from the long table.

The werewolf raised his sharp claws, leaving a few bloodstains on his chest.

Their self-healing ability is very strong, the scars on their chests are quickly scabbed, and then fall off, and maintain a roaring state, venting their desires.