cycle

Mr. Fusco seemed to be confused by Bellatrix's strange behavior. He just fell heavily and slowly got up from the wall without making a sound.Bellatrix conjured a roll of parchment out of thin air to spread on my lap, and even thoughtfully conjured a bright oil lamp in the dungeon.

"Why don't you write?" Bellatrix acted as if she couldn't feel the pain. With her wide open thick lips, she let out a nervous laugh, and blood continued to slowly ooze from the wound on her cheek. She shed, "Didn't those old antiques in school make disobedient students copy sentences, oh-our little baby is well protected by daddy, and may never have been punished like this, then let me teach you , and just write sentences on paper. Well... just write 'I am the daughter of a mudblood'."

"Don't know how to spell 'Mudblood'?" She looked at my exasperated face viciously, "It's okay, students at Hogwarts now have a compulsory Muggle Studies course to teach them How to write words, I’m here today to help you make up your lessons.”

"You hide and hide like this, which makes me want to torture you even more." She smiled and said creepy words, "It's a pity that the master said he wanted to save your life. Poor Sissy is afraid that I will kill you." You played it too far, and reminded me over and over again-be honest, baby, look, I almost hit the unconscious old man over there again."

"Stay away from Mr. Ollivander!" I watched in horror as the green light from the tip of her wand brushed Mr. Ollivander's gray hair and shattered a stone brick above him.

"Then kneel here and finish copying the sentence I asked you to copy." Bellatrix dropped the sharp quill on my stiff knee, and now I have only one hand free to move. "Here, here's a special quill I got from a woman at the Ministry of Magic—who was your teacher too, Dolores Umbridge, remember? "

She didn't give me ink in the first place, and now that she says Umbridge's name, I'm even more sure of the quill's purpose.I dropped the tip of the quill on the blank parchment, and it quivered slightly in the air with my right hand.If I don't write, she will hurt Mr. Ollivander and Mr. Fusco. I remind myself over and over again that Voldemort never said that he wanted to save the lives of the two of them. In the face of life, dignity can be temporarily—

I let out a sound because of the sudden sharp pain in my cheek - Bellatrix didn't give me any time to hesitate, and now my hands are copying line by line on the parchment in front of me uncontrollably The words "I am the daughter of the Mudblood" looked as if they were written in bright red ink.At the same time, I felt like the skin on my right cheek was being repeatedly cut open by a thin, sharp knife. I reflexively stroked my cheek with my left hand, which aroused Bellatrix's satisfaction. Laughing, the last pain has not stopped and is covered by the next pain. Gradually, this perception becomes numb because it is too frequent.

I don't know how long I have been copying, the pain delayed my perception of time, the parchment was quickly filled, and my hand mechanically folded the next line at the beginning and continued to copy, densely packed with blood characters Covered every corner of the parchment.The soreness in my wrist is really not worth mentioning. If it weren't for the wound on my cheek and the burning sensation, I would even feel like a puppet whose soul has been emptied at this moment.

Gradually, I could feel that the wounds that healed before would no longer heal immediately as before, and the burning sensation no longer stayed on the surface of the skin, as if an invisible person was using a sharp red hot knife The iron nail hit the cheekbone closest to the cheek little by little.Bellatrix was staring greedily at my face like a poisonous snake, and all I could do was bite my lip to deny her the perception of my weakness—but the act of tightening my skin definitely intensified the pain.

"You have to thank me for letting out a little more of the dirty blood that belongs to Mudblood on your body." She stretched out a finger and tapped the wound that was already bleeding down, put it in her mouth and sucked it Gagging exaggeratedly after a moment, "Well, better than your Mudblood mom, but not much better."

The quill in my hand finally fell on the parchment that could not find any white as she murmured. Just now, the blood on my face dripped down my chin on the paper, but the parchment seemed to have disappeared. It was soaked in blood, so that those blood drops could no longer soak in, and could only slowly flow down the slanted paper to the ground, and then condensed a raised trace halfway.

"You are much prettier than before, baby." I didn't even feel anything when her sharp nails scratched the right side of my face. A fierce burning flame.When I struggled to break free from her shackles, she let out a series of nervous laughter. I could only comfort myself that she should have completely forgotten that she had come to the dungeon to track down something.

I rejected Mr. Fusco's suggestion to cut my hair short, although as long as I don't pay attention, the hair hanging around my face will stick to the bleeding wound, although tearing the hair will also cause pain, but they At least it can block the scar that is still not fully healed. Before that, I never thought that I was actually a girl who cared about her appearance. At that time, I always felt that my mother’s face made me stand out in the crowd. It was too eye-catching, and it caused a lot of trouble.However, when I finally realized that this long, thin scar that spelled insulting sentences would accompany me for the rest of my life like the scar on the back of Harry and Neville's hands, I could only think back in boundless sadness Mrs. Weasley said before Bill's bedside, "Nothing else is important... except love, youth, appearance... are all fleeting things".

Senna came back a few times later, bringing food and some wound medicines. Of course, those ordinary potions were like the stickers I made for Harry, and they were of no use to the wounds on my face.Of course, readers will find that there are no scars on my face now. I don't want to cause a misunderstanding that I am fabricating what happened to me, so I will try my best to tell all the stories that happened this year as clearly as possible later.

Some readers have sent owls to say that they want to read other people's stories rather than my endless dungeon experience. I have suggested to the magazine to start a new column, but it is very difficult for my friends to write articles. It's hard to say, after all, they don't rest at home like me, and only review manuscripts for the International Association of Magical Pharmacists.However, the editor said that they contacted Miss Nancy Green, a hot new reporter, to conduct supplementary interviews and edits for my memoir. Journalists are like Rita Skeeter's aftermath.

Although the wound medicine Senna brought didn't heal the wound on my face, it made Mr. Ollivander look a lot better. Now he can talk with me and Mr. Fusco for a while, But still haggard and haggard.Fortunately, since Bellatrix came, the dungeon we were in was temporarily forgotten by Voldemort and the Death Eaters, except for Astoria's sneaking in twice.The first time Astoria came here was to tell me that although the puppy she rescued was not dead, it never woke up. I don’t know how to treat animals at all. The potion asked her to try half the dosage.When she came for the second time, she seemed happier and told me that the puppy woke up and was able to lick her wrist now, but it was just because of the serious injury before and still lacked energy.

Although I am very happy to have a few words with her, and to find out if the Death Eaters have caught other people recently, Astoria obviously does not have much ability to collect information. When I started coughing, I was hard-hearted and told her not to come into this dank and cold dungeon at night—if she was found by Bellatrix and the like, I don't think they would Will let her go because she is the daughter of the Greengrass family.

Mr. Ollivander was sorry to hear that my walnut wand had been broken, and in his waking hours he would share stories with us in a hoarse voice about famous wizards visiting his shop to buy wands. Knowing that Neville's and Voldemort's wands used the same phoenix's tail feather, Ollivander thought it was clearly a "choice of fate".

"So Voldemort, uh, I'm sorry, the mysterious person would choose to use Lucius Malfoy's wand?" I saw Mr. Ollivander cringe in fear when I called Voldemort by his name, and quickly changed his words, "But Neville still attacked him with powerful magic?"

"When he caught me, he gave me a detailed account of what happened between the two wands, the joined tips, the flashback spells, etc. Twin wands are rare, boy, because the man who made the core The materials are extremely precious...I told everything I knew under his torture, but I only understood the resonance between the twin wands, and the phenomenon he mentioned when he tortured me last time...is really unheard of." His body trembled slightly because of the lingering fear.

"This may just show that Neville Longbottom is indeed the 'savior of the world'." Mr. Fusco interjected, "He has the ability to defeat the devil!"

"May Merlin be with him." Ollivander sighed weakly, "I also hope... that kid won't resent me for telling the mysterious man..."

"Will he ask you to make him another wand?" Mr. Fusco asked Ollivander. "You said earlier that he made up his mind not to use the original yew wand."

"He seems very disappointed in me..." said the old man, "I think the ordinary wand can't satisfy him anymore, he needs a more powerful... one that can make him invulnerable."

"The Elder Wand?" Ollivander's silver eyes widened in surprise at Mr. Fusco's answer, and Fusco waved his hand, "It just so happens that there are some related legends that have been passed down in my family for generations. Generations, what, is he really going to get that wand? Does it really exist?"

"Those who have studied wand science carefully will find that it has traces in history, although it is intermittent, disappearing and popping up again." Right now I am listening to a wonderful history of magic (from I never thought that the history of magic would have a fascinating day), and almost held my breath listening to the old man's whisper, "It has many names and recognizable characteristics. I have carefully studied the written records with some wand makers. , although most of them are cryptic ... but we believe that these records have a certain degree of authenticity."

"The Elder Wand, the Death Wand—the legendary wand that must kill the previous owner to serve the next owner. It is also considered to be the most powerful wand that exists in this world. It can make the holder invulnerable." Looking at me With a confused face, Mr. Fusco kindly added to me, "I am a descendant of Foxster Fusco - you probably know the name, he served as the headmaster of Hogwarts before his death. Our family passed down Some information on the history of ancient magic, but until now it is only word of mouth, I used to think that the Elder Wand was just a legend."

"Isn't this a paradox?" I tilted my head, "If a wand can make the holder invulnerable and invincible, how can there be a rule of 'killing the previous master can serve the next master' Woolen cloth?"

"As to whether it really needs to be changed hands by murder, it is actually difficult to confirm." Ollivander showed a faint smile because of my question, "The history of this powerful and coveted artifact must be bloody Yes, because it can arouse the strong desire of the wizards, and the desire to fight is always accompanied by brutal killings."

"Then I can only hope he can't find that wand." I muttered, not realizing that Mr. Ollivander's face was even paler because of my words, he stopped talking, and fell asleep wrapped in hay after a while past.

"Treasures always lead to fights." Mr. Fusco obviously wanted to continue this topic, he was always talkative (I guess he hadn't talked for a long time before I came to the dungeon), after Mr. He began to talk again, "Many treasures disappeared or even destroyed in the battle. It's a pity."

"Yeah," I was actually a little sleepy, but he took good care of the wound on my face before, so I was embarrassed to perfuse him, so I had to pretend to be very interested, "But sometimes I think, this kind of cause It doesn't seem like a bad thing if wizards kill each other and get wiped out."

"This kind of thinking is too narrow!" Fusco shook his head, "Of course, such powerful and dangerous treasures as the Elder Wand are rare, and most of the treasures only have precious historical value and significance. , passing from collector to collector, their disappearance is a sad loss for the wizarding world."

"That's right." I nodded, "But generally only rich and long-established wizarding families can own them, and it has nothing to do with most ordinary wizards, and they are not even mentioned in history of magic textbooks too much." —Well, but I keep getting distracted in History of Magic class, and it's possible that Professor Binns said I forgot after the exam."

"It's true that I don't mention too much, because the possession of such items is generally a secret that only family heirs will understand." Mr. Fusco touched my head with a smile to express that he understood my distraction in class "Sometimes the heir suddenly has an accident. When other members of the family come to check the inheritance, they will find that something is missing, and they can't be sure whether it is really missing or hidden in an unknown place by the heir... Many treasures are missing. It's so lost."

"That's really a pity," I said, "disappeared for no apparent reason."

"Yeah, like Ravenclaw's diadem, Hufflepuff's cup—"

"Crown? Gold cup?" I sat up straight, which startled Mr. Fusco.

"You should have some understanding of the relics of the four founders of Hogwarts, right?" he asked.

I'm a little embarrassed. I heard most of the contents of "Hogwarts, a School History" from Hermione. I still have two copies of the set of books I bought when I was a child that have not been opened in the bookcase. seal up.

"I only know about the sword of Gryffindor. It is said that it will appear in front of Gryffindor students recognized by Godric Gryffindor." I replied, "When I was in the second grade, there was a rumor that Neville Killed the snake in the Slytherin chamber with that sword."

"Yes, that sword is currently the only clearly recorded relic of the founder. I remember it was still in the headmaster's office at Hogwarts before I was captured." Fusco nodded, but I suddenly thought of Deng Xiaoping. Professor Bullidow's will seemed to leave it to Neville, and his fingers were trembling with excitement. Could this be related to what I saw in Voldemort's flash memory?

"Ravenclaw's crown, Hufflepuff's gold cup, Slytherin's locket and Gryffindor's sword, the first three have disappeared, and the crown is the most interesting, because It is rumored that wearing it can give you supreme wisdom, so it was the first to disappear.” Mr. Fusco didn’t notice my strangeness, and continued, “The gold cup and locket were originally placed in Hufflepuff and Hufflepuff. It is passed down from generation to generation in the hands of the descendants of Slytherin, but as I said just now, the treasures disappeared after the sudden death of the heirs, which is a pity."

"Do they have other relics, such as diaries and the like?" I tried to recall the memories I peeped that day.

"I don't understand this, but I think it's not easy to keep a diary." Mr. Fusco looked a little confused, "Are you okay, Alice? Your face is as red as a fever now."

"Have you seen those things? Or are there pictures in those materials?" I gestured at him a little helplessly, "For example, is the golden cup about this size—and the crown! Yes, isn't that diadem dusty with rust on it—"

"The crown disappeared too early, so there are only a few scattered written records." Although his face was confused, Fusco answered me as best he could, "but I was lucky enough to see a Hufflepuff once at the collector of a family friend. The photo of the gold cup, he is a descendant of Hufflepuff, but the gold cup disappeared after the aunt who inherited the gold cup was accidentally poisoned by the house elf, he took the photo to let me pay attention to whether it will be in Diagon Alley and over Turned up in some of the little shops in the Lane—well, I come to think of it, a little mug, but very fine, with two ear handles, and engraved with a Hufflepuff badger on it—”

That's it, Voldemort's memory, he took a gold cup from a fat woman, and so on - that green glowing lake, in his hand he held something like a box, Could it be Slytherin's locket?But what is a diary?And the crown... Where did I see it, it seems to be at Hogwarts, think again, since I felt familiar at the time, then this memory must not be long ago, where in Hogwarts——

I jumped up, nearly waking Mr. Ollivander, and I had to gasp to calm the pounding heartbeat in my chest.The Room of Requirement, on Christmas in the sixth grade, in order to investigate what Draco was doing in it, I entered the room full of all kinds of prohibited items hidden by previous Hogwarts students, and then accidentally knocked over a bunch of debris, In the junk was a bust of an old wizard, an old wig, and a dark, rusty diadem, which I placed on the head of the statue of the old wizard.

But what does this mean?What was Voldemort doing collecting them?Could they, like the Elder Wand, help him to be "invulnerable and invincible"?