Hogwarts Blood Curse Martial Arts

In the village of Little Hanglinton, a grand building is located on a hill. It used to be a luxurious manor, but now it is an uninhabited ruin. After a bizarre murder occurred here, the manor changed hands twice. However, the new owner felt uncomfortable after moving in and chose to move out, leaving the manor to fall into disrepair.

Frank, a war veteran, became the gardener here. He was seventy-six years old, blind, deaf, and lame in one leg. In the past, if children broke in, he would come in to check. That night, he seemed to have discovered the movement of the intruder, so he used crutches to enter the mansion where he had not been for a long time.

He passed through the empty kitchen, which was dark and filled with the smell of decay, then passed the hall, and finally climbed the stairs step by step with difficulty. Outside the half-open door at the end of the corridor, he saw a fire burning in the fireplace in the room, and the flames were shining on the profile of a man.

The man sat on the rocking chair and whispered to himself. Sometimes the voice was sonorous and powerful, and sometimes it was low and weak.

Frank shuddered at this moment and did not dare to approach the man. He wondered if the intruder might be mentally ill. Facing the able-bodied mentally ill, Frank believed that it was impossible to defeat him, so he planned to stay here and wait and see what happens.

"How long are you going to stay here?" the sonorous voice asked with annoyance.

"A week." The deep voice replied coldly: "Maybe it will be longer. This place is still comfortable, but the plan cannot go forward. It would be stupid and ridiculous to act before the World Cup is over."

Frank checked his ears, not sure if he heard the word "Qi low Qi" correctly.

"Dark Lord, do you still want to wait until the end of the Qidaoqi World Cup?"

"I find that you lack basic respect for me, and now you are questioning my judgment. Inspections during the World Cup are very strict, so we have to be careful."

Frank is already sure that this man is mentally ill and even imagined the Dark Lord. Is this a fairy tale?

The sonorous voice said disdainfully: "Don't forget, your appeal is no longer what it was before. Without my help, can you still regain your dominance?"

"Are you threatening me?" a weak voice roared.

"I'm just stating a fact. Without me, you are nothing. If you ask for this or that, I will do it for you one by one.

But what did you give me?

No, nothing, just empty talk!

Do I care about your black magic?

I want you to give us support, but you still want me to make you a temporary body? Don’t you British people understand what equivalent exchange is? Is your bargaining chip just an army of words? "

The angry rant ended for a moment and the room fell into a brief silence.

Just when Frank thought that the mental patient had fallen asleep, a low and weak voice said: "You look down on me now? It doesn't matter, but your only hope is also me. Without my help, you will just be a lost dog, and you will never be able to survive." Overthrow the powerful enemies in your eyes. However, you also know that these so-called strong enemies are actually very weak in my eyes. After I regain my strength, I think that if we want to increase mutual trust, why not calm down and talk in detail? ?”

After this well-intentioned conciliatory suggestion, the room fell silent again. Then, low and weak voices and originally angry voices began to discuss something in a low voice.

Frank's ears were not working well and he could no longer hear what he was saying to himself. However, two voices will accidentally speak at the same time, and then one voice will politely give the other voice a chance to continue. Frank was guessing that this man was not mentally ill, but was practicing ventriloquism lines here.

Since this man was not in danger and had no evil intentions, Frank planned to go back to sleep.

The moment he turned around to leave, he was paralyzed with shock and unable to move. A large snake at least twelve feet long had already been lying on the floor beside him, spitting out long snake messages at him. The snake's body was undulating like waves, leaving a wide and curved gray groove in the thick dust.

Frank knows that he can't deal with the monster-like snake, and the only person who can help him is the "ventriloquist" who should be driven away.

Just as he was about to call for help, a hissing sound came from the room, and in a blink of an eye, the giant snake with a diamond-shaped tail was driven back to the gray ditch and disappeared instantly.

Frank's forehead was covered with sweat, the hand holding the stick began to tremble, and the cold and low voice in the room was still hissing. A strange thought suddenly occurred to him. Could it be that the person in the room was talking to the snake just now?

At this moment, a low voice came from the room again: "Nagini gave me some interesting news just now. There was an old guy in the room who heard every word we said."

"Oh, I didn't expect that someone would dare to eavesdrop on our conversation." The sonorous voice replied.

Frank had no chance to hide. There was a sound of footsteps coming from the room, then the door suddenly opened, and there was a snake on the hearth-rug.

The tall and powerful figure lifted Frank up with one hand.

Frank confirmed that he did not know this burly middle-aged man, and he should have no grudges against him. Is this man really mentally ill? But the light here was too dark, and he couldn't see the man's face clearly.

The deep voice spoke. "Did you hear everything, Muggle?"

"What are you calling me?" Frank said challengingly. He felt brave, as he always did on the battlefield.

"I'm calling you a Muggle." The deep voice said coldly: "That means you are not a wizard!"

"I don't understand what you mean by the word 'wizard', and I've shown kindness that I didn't drive you away. You shouldn't treat me like this." Frank's voice became more and more steady, but he felt that it sounded like It came from behind this person.

He couldn't think about it anymore, and suddenly he got inspiration from nowhere and said forcefully: "My wife knows that I came up, if I don't go back..."

"You don't have a wife," the deep voice said quietly, "No one knows you are here. You didn't tell anyone you were here."

"Really?" Frank said roughly, "I don't care about you so much. Why can't you face me like a man? I can't see you clearly at all."

"Do you want to turn around?" a sonorous male voice suddenly asked.

Frank didn't know what he was talking about, but he heard a deep voice coming from behind the man. "good."

Then, the man suddenly turned his back to him and lowered the hood of his robe. A bloodless, dead face appeared on the back of the man's head.

Frank then saw what looked like a baton extending from his anti-articulated arm.

The moment he opened his mouth to scream, a green light flashed and a roaring sound came out.

Frank immediately collapsed.

It should be said that he was already dead before he fell to the ground.

Two hundred miles away, at 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey, there is a protagonist named Harry Potter. He suddenly woke up from his sleep.

Harry was lying on his back, breathing hard, as if he had done some strenuous exercise that would cause Sage Time.

A vivid dream woke him, and he covered his face with his hands. An old thunderbolt-shaped scar on his forehead burned under his fingers, as if red-hot iron wire was pressed against his skin.

He sat up and pressed the scar with one hand. He put on his glasses and looked in the mirror, but it still hurt when his fingers touched the scar. Harry tried hard to recall what happened in his dream before he woke up. It all seemed so real... but he didn't recognize the person in the dream.

He concentrated hard and tried to remember...

The dim image of the dark room approached him, a snake on the hearth-rug, a clanking voice, a deep voice. The deep voice was Voldemort's. Thinking of this, he felt as if he had swallowed a large piece of ice...

He closed his eyes tightly and tried hard to think of Voldemort, but he couldn't. Was it the fear and convulsions that woke him up, or the pain from the scar?

Who is that old man? Harry saw him fall to the ground. It all became blurry, and when he tried to remember the details, they all slipped away...

Harry took his hands away, opened his eyes, and looked around the room, as if he saw something unusual.

Yes, he had changed rooms, certainly more unusual than the original one.

On his first day back at No. 4 Privet Drive, he still came to a chaotic room. It wasn't that he didn't like cleanliness, but his cousin Dudley had made trouble in the room before he came back.

He tidied the room as usual, was ordered around by the family as usual, and ate poor food as usual.

However, this all changed on the second day of summer vacation.

Uncle Vernon came back from work in the evening and immediately pulled his wife to the bedroom with a sullen face. The two argued for a long time inside, and even when Dudley knocked on the door, Uncle Vernon scolded him back.

The noise lasted for five minutes, and there was only the sound of a man and a woman crying. Another half hour later, it was still quiet inside.

Harry may have been influenced by Chen Bin and began to think that Vernon might have killed his wife, or that Aunt Petunia had reached the stage of sucking dirt and made Vernon vomit white jam and die.

However, Harry didn't understand why he had to absorb dirt while sitting? Why spit out white jam instead of hazelnut jam? Does spitting out jam mean you are poisoned?

Even if he didn't quite understand Chen Bin's joke, the image of his aunt sitting sucking dirt and his uncle vomiting in his mind could make Harry laugh all day long.

Suddenly, the bedroom door opened, scaring Harry away from his smile.

Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia seemed to be completely different people. They greeted Harry with smiles, asked for help, and were amiable. In short, they had a better attitude than taking care of their own sons.

Not only that, Dudley needed to go on a diet during dinner, and the whole family had to eat less than him to be considered normal.

But from that day on, Harry could open the refrigerator and eat anything he wanted. When he was hungry, he could ask his aunt to cook or buy him food at any time. Dudley also asked Dudley to exchange bedrooms with him, and also gave him a computer and a computer. Cell phones, etc., etc.