Fail Demon King

The tomb-like smell is like an invisible hand reaching out to the end of a person's nose, maliciously blocking all sense of smell.

Owen leaned close to Tom's shoulder, close to his ear, and said in a very low voice: "Listen—there is something...do you hear it?"

"I heard the devil's breathing, and I thought—if the devil can really breathe." Tom whispered in Owen's ear, his even breath brushed Owen's ear, it was strange, Owen felt that Tom was still there Smiling, "Or it's your breathing enough to drown out the steam locomotive—maybe we can talk louder," he paused, "after all, the dementors won't mind."

Without reconfirmation, Owen can be sure that Tom is not joking!

Some black, hooded figures drifted and slid towards them like dead souls running across the water.As they approached, so did the raging cold, and the sticky, wet, decaying smell filled the nostrils.

This feeling of being slowly surrounded by a group of dementors must be one of the most uncomfortable feelings in the world. The cold, trembling and fear are enough to make everyone lose self-control——

The strange thing is that Owen is still very sober.There was a voice echoing in his head—it was Tom's calm voice, still very clear, as if it was in a Defense Against the Dark Arts class yesterday:

"...I'm not saying they're such a pleasant creature, but there's no doubt wizards haven't done much justice to them over the years...help us weed out all cowardly and cowardly weaklings. With them Getting along can test a person's mind and will to the greatest extent, and they can't suck away those flaming and firm thoughts in your heart..."

However, Tom's voice is becoming thinner and thinner, as if everything about him is slowly being withdrawn from Owen's mind... He seems to have returned to a high-rise stand, the sky in June is spinning and collapsing, and the twisted black The sun and Lucretia's eager call became clearer—

Suddenly, a warm hand grabbed him.

— Tom's hand.

Tom was standing beside him...they stood shoulder to shoulder.

Owen woke up suddenly, as if he had just broken through the water that was about to submerge, he took a deep breath—it was still that cold, rotten breath—he squeezed Tom’s hand tightly, and shouted: "Guardian!"

A group of silver-white shadows spewed out from his wand with a "whoosh". This is a clean and beautiful Patronus Charm. A graceful raccoon flicked its fluffy tail and rushed towards the dementor in front of it. go.The scabbed, disgusting hands were hastily withdrawn before they were fully extended from the black robes, and the dementor backed away quickly, and the surrounding circle became thinner.

"Very—lovely Patronus," Owen heard Tom whisper beside him.

"Damn Merlin, what's with that suspicious pause of yours?"

"Yeah, why didn't I think about this kind of animal," Tom said to himself, as if he was talking to Owen intentionally, "it doesn't look very smart, but it's actually quite cunning; it's not very good at disguising, but Pretty quick to run away."

"..."

For some reason, Owen felt that Tom was in a very happy mood tonight.If he had been a dementor, he thought he couldn't help approaching Tom, too.He leaned on Tom's shoulder, watched the pale black-haired man raise his wand, and said almost lazily, "Call God to protect you!"

A giant silver snake whizzed out of Tom's wand, its upper body raised high, like a tall oak tree.It bowed its body, opened its huge mouth suddenly, exposed its ferocious fangs, and slammed into the several dementors in front of it——

Owen couldn't help but suspect that, if they had feet, the dementors would trip over their own robes.They retreated hastily, quickly and soundlessly, like a black mist evaporated by a raging fire, and quickly fled and scattered.

The moonlight, the stars, and the cold but clear night wind in spring all returned.Tom and Owen didn't stay in this place for a second, and after a while, they had Apparated to a small road in the Muggle neighborhood.At night, the lane is deserted, due to inexplicable banging and screaming from an apartment building on this street, and a considerable number of residents are convinced that there is a lingering ghost haunting it. suspect.

Owen stared at Tom blankly, with a strange expression on his face.

Tom turned his head and looked at him: "What?"

"...It's nothing." Owen rubbed his nose, trying to get rid of the idea that "the Dark Lord just cast a protective spell to drive away the dementors, it's a terrible miracle" from his mind.He smiled slyly, "Perfect demonstration, sir, although it was six months late. But I clearly remember that you expressed great regret for us to expel the dementors..."

"If you can appreciate the painstaking efforts the professor has taken to make the class easy, you probably won't be so easy to believe what I said at the time."

"..."

"I don't feel guilty about it." Tom smiled, and put away his wand. "I actually like the Patronus Charm quite a bit."

"..."

"But your composure just now was beyond my expectations, Owen, considering that few living people could keep their feet when a dementor got that close - well, I have to admit that's extraordinarily impressive. "

"I don't know what's going on." Owen frowned and thought about it, and said in a daze, "It's weird, it's not happiness, they didn't suck it away; there was also fear, but it wasn't just given to me. Maybe you That's right, it was just a burning idea, so it was kept..." Owen raised his head to look at Tom in solution, but suddenly fell into those shining black eyes.Tom was staring at him intently, and the deep black pupils and the emotions flickering in them were simply distracting.

"I think I probably know why." Tom turned his head and strode forward without looking sideways, his low and thoughtful voice passing through the dark alley, "There is a feeling-maybe It’s not quite right to say it’s a thought—it’s not just about happiness and joy, but it can also cause… it can also cause fear or sadness…” His voice became lower and lower, almost completely talking to himself, The footsteps were getting faster and faster, and Owen couldn't keep up with his long legs, "But once it's ignited, it never goes out...it's...it's good—"

The tall man had almost reached the dark alley when he turned around suddenly, waiting for Owen to bump headfirst into him.A sickly flush of red quickly spread across his cheeks, and soon disappeared without a trace under the moonlight.

"Just now you said that you probably know—what on earth do you know?" Owen asked curiously until they finally returned to the dimly lit Muggle apartment.

"Nothing," said Tom casually, "probably some old-fashioned magic ..." He changed the subject indistinctly, "but I guess you must know something."

"That's right." Owen muttered unwillingly, but he was completely helpless against the stubborn Dark Lord, "Even a blind man can see it."

—It is no accident that a horde of dementors lurks near Saturnus.The guards of Azkaban had mutinied.

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The author has something to say: Hey, Dumbledore can rest in peace, Lord Dark Lord has started to use his theory to speak~

O(n_n)O haha~

I wish you all a happy reading~

PS: The setting of the jar is that Tom can’t use the Patronus Charm after Billy’s death, because all Tom’s happy memories are related to Billy, and it’s painful for Tom to remember those memories after Billy’s death.

But it is a coincidence that Jar found that Aunt Rowling also explained that George cannot use the Patronus Charm~

I'm so happy, I thought of going with Aunt Rowling~=v=

92 One Unfortunately Bad News

An underage wizard lived illegally and secretly in a Muggle residence for a week - together with the once admired, now notorious Dark Lord.

Perhaps this memory should be preserved properly, Owen thought. There are several newspapers - such as "Mystery Post" - who are particularly keen to spend a lot of money to acquire this kind of unbelievable event material.

During this week, Owen finally became familiar with all kinds of buttons in the kitchen—it has to be said that Muggles must be the most delicate and troublesome ethnic group in the world—and just three days ago, he saw They are completely confused.

However, heart-wrenching news came one after another.At one point Owen thought of simply burning those Daily Prophet papers that Tom had brought back from nowhere on the electric stove he had just learned to use: the news in the papers just went from bad to worse.

And just five days after their dementor attack, Tom himself brought the worst news these days.

—or rather, one of the worst news.

"Abraxas is in prison."

With a bang, Owen's fork fell to the side of the plate.

"Prison?" Owen stayed for a while. To be honest, this matter is not completely unpredictable, but it is really unacceptable emotionally.He paused, frowned and asked, "The Malfoys still—"

"Fortunately," Tom said, but his brows were also rarely tightened, and his face was extremely pale in the gloomy sky, "Fortunately Lucretia is still holding on, Black and Lestrange strongly protested, There are also some ancient families who have stood still and have not made a statement—at present, Abraxas is still safe.”

"But how could it be!" Owen was both confused and angry, he picked up a knife and fork and slammed the plate vigorously—sorry this is not in accordance with etiquette—making a clanging sound, "The Wizengamot conducted a trial? Is it secret?"

"The new law is out," Tom turned to avoid being splashed with some brightly colored sauce from Owen's beating, and pushed a plate of veal pie in Owen's direction by the way, "Auror's power is being Expanded across the board, when it comes to wizards with a passion for the Dark Arts—that is, me, and the Death Eaters around me—the privilege of avoiding interrogation and sending them straight to prison.”

Owen was a little dazed: "I've always..." He murmured, "I always thought..." In his usual impression, this is something that only happened in the 80s.

"The familiar world no longer exists, Owen," said Tom quietly.As if he had seen through Owen's thoughts, the man's black eyes were particularly meaningful, and even his words seemed to be a pun, "It's never very reliable to do things based on impressions alone, and any innate advantages must be combined with reality."

"—yet, given the chance, Tom, you would not hesitate to take advantage of any situation, even though you profess to be no opportunist."

Tom narrowed his eyes approvingly: "Of course." He even followed Owen's example and knocked on the plate with a knife and fork, "You don't want to eat?"

"I don't have much appetite." Owen said sadly.It didn't matter, he was tired of eating his own fried eggs, and only Tom still enjoyed this kind of monotonous food every day.Guilt and worry churned in his mind, like he'd just swallowed that intricate Muggle juicer, the whirling blades churning his guts together, "Lucretia and Lucius—"

Owen didn't finish, but of course Tom understood it all.

Tom's lips were pursed tightly, and for the first time, Owen saw a shadow of worry and guilt pass over Tom's face, if only for a moment.

It was a long time before Tom began to speak again, his tone was flat, but the gloomy expression had not completely faded from his face: "Come on, I told you this myself, just because I didn't want you to know by chance. It was such a fuss after the incident.

—is he making a fuss?

Owen blinked slowly, secretly observed Tom's expression, and decided to keep silent.The taste of guilt is not very pleasant, and Tom needs time to get used to it.

"Lucretia and Lucius will be fine." After a while, Tom said briefly and firmly, the corners of his lips twitching sternly, "No one wants to let the person on my side suffer, even if the opposite is Devil, I also come from a deeper level of hell than him - as I said, the faster the plan, the easier it is to go wrong, and Benjamin's biggest loophole is that he is too impatient."

Owen sighed: "I know you are good at waiting." There is no doubt that this is the nature of snakes.

"Very well said. Waiting, of course--although that might be a little difficult for a lively raccoon," said Tom casually.

"..."

"What's your expression like?"

"...It's nothing." Owen took a breath, grabbed the napkin casually, hesitating whether to raise his hand and use it to cover Tom's hideous face, "Oh—Merlin's socks! Can you forget that one? Raccoon? How long are you going to mock me with it?"

"Forever, I suppose—who can tell about that."

"..."

Tom deliberately removed the napkin from Owen's fingertips and wiped the corners of his mouth gracefully—he didn't have to, Owen bets, because there was nothing around his mouth.This is Riddle-esque arrogance and posturing, and it's best done generously to ignore it.

Owen pushed away the plate in front of him quite gracefully, and was about to stand up and go to the kitchen to wash the dishes, but Tom stopped him again: "I know you really want to revenge on me, but wait, look at this again."

——With a "swish", a roll of newspapers was thrown on the table.

"To make sure you don't drop powdered Yasap fangs and toad cysts in my omelette tomorrow morning," said Tom leisurely, "I thought it best to give you an outlet to vent your anger—after reading this Burn it along with the papers from the last two days, Owen, only the screams of some of the pictures in them are quite horrid."

Another copy of the Daily Prophet.Someone must have cursed this paper recently, it was a predictable ominous thing.

Owen didn't care to find out how Tom learned that he had the ambition to destroy all the hapless "Crow's Mouth Daily", he almost opened the newspaper with a headache-great!As soon as he read the first line of typeface, he felt a darkness before his eyes:

Hogwarts... under attack!

So, Abraxas' imprisonment is really just the worst news these days——

one.

Another frustrating rainy night.

A tall man in a black hood and wrapped in a long cloak strides through rain and fog in London at night.He didn't have an umbrella - no surprise, the wind was hopelessly strong.No one could see his face clearly, and the citizens who came back late were eager to be grateful for avoiding the heavy rain, and they all hurried on the way home; no one had the curiosity to peek into the hood, who knew it was Not a Ripper or Spring Heeled Jack 1.

The eccentric traveler didn't stop, and what was even more eccentric, he seemed to be whispering to himself now and then—or to the empty air beside him: "All right?"

The cloud of air whispered back to him: "I think it's okay... oh shit, there's a mud puddle that can't be bypassed..." Mud flowers splashed on a puddle, as if someone had barely collapsed from above It used to be, "I hate rainy days, wet, dark, sticky, like a man who can't stop weeping—well, I see it's here to Apparate. You're always so careful, Tom, though you're Made a Muggle kid cry when we first went out, but it's far enough from where we end up..."

The tall man gave a soft "hmm", or maybe he didn't make a sound at all.

——A dull thunder rumbled, and after the lightning, there was only dark rain that seemed to never end on this street.

It was difficult for Owen to describe his feelings when he re-entered the secret passage that he walked out of Hogwarts.It is hard to say what he will see when he walks out of this passage: the faculty and staff who have been extra vigilant because of the attack in the past two days, or the gatekeeper who is always patrolling the corridor?Torn portraits and a messy carpet, or broken armor and crumbling candlesticks?

Or the shrewd great headmaster, Dumbledore with his all-seeing blue eyes shining behind half-moon lenses, or simply pounced on Owen's shoulder and cried, and then accused him hoarsely of leaving without saying goodbye Levins?

——Merlin, Owen can't even tell which of the above two options is more terrifying.

"Don't be stupid," someone behind him sneered inappropriately, "you don't have to worry about whatever's waiting outside—they can't see you."

"Why don't you make yourself invisible too?"

"Then you won't see me."

Owen admitted that Tom had a point.They stopped talking, and continued to walk in the dark secret passage, as if walking in muddy clay, breathing the damp air, only the tip of the wand glowed with fluorescent light.

According to the newspapers, Hogwarts was being attacked by a rather serious and mysterious attack involving a large number of dementors and trolls.There is nothing to reveal the truth of the surprise attack, and the worst damage was at Gryffindor Tower, where a boulder was thrown, but fortunately there were no actual casualties of teachers or students.

The confusing situation has led to many speculations out of thin air-who controls the evil forces of dementors and trolls?Who wants to conquer Hogwarts so impatiently that they don't even have any fear of Dumbledore's existence?All kinds of spearheads seem to be pointing in the same direction again.

"—why do they always suspect that you did everything?" Owen muttered angrily.However, he thought for a while, and slowly frowned, "But think about it carefully, maybe this kind of logic does make sense. To be honest, Tom, do you have the ambition to master the entire wizarding world?"

"—and keeping the wizarding blood pure, weeding out those Muggle blood you think are filthy?"

"Slytherin has made this his life's work, and as a descendant of him, it should of course be my ambition."

"...Damn Merlin, then they really didn't wrong you at all."

Tom snorted noncommittally: "It's just that I don't need to make things so clumsy. I will never attack Hogwarts unless it is absolutely necessary." He paused, lowering his head to avoid a protruding hole at the top of the secret passage. Stone, said softly, "I didn't intend—I never intended for Hogwarts to be truly destroyed."

Some clods fell from the top, and Owen cleaned them up with a swift movement of his wand. A few bats and mice quickly escaped over their heads and feet.

"Of course I know you wouldn't do that." Owen whispered, but his voice still produced a buzzing echo in the claustrophobic tunnel, "Hogwarts...Hogwarts is a very special place .”

—In fact, he could imagine that Hogwarts was the most cherished place in the world for Tom.The happiness, sorrow, pursuit, ambition, youthfulness of boyhood—well, assuming Tom was also youthful—are all in this thousand-year-old castle, and there is no longer any place to carry these memories and emotions.They are like those familiar knight's armor in the corridor, rusted all year round, but with a little rubbing at Christmas, they shine brightly.

Therefore, the attack on Hogwarts is undoubtedly enough unfortunate bad news——

"—You said it unconsciously again, it's really hopeless, but fortunately, I don't mind constantly lowering my bottom line for enduring you." Tom glanced at Owen lightly, and laughed, "And—stupid The Hogwarts attack is unfortunate enough, but good news."

Owen narrowed his eyes, he vaguely realized what this cunning man wanted to do: "You mean—"

Tom showed a standard mocking smile: "Of course, besides you, there are always one or two people who know that I didn't do this, and one of them is the principal's office on the eighth floor here." He paused , and added coldly, "——if he is not old and foolish."

==================

The author has something to say: 1 Jack the Ripper: Needless to say, everyone knows what this thing is...

Spring-legged Jack: An image of a demon active in the 19s to 50s. It is said that it has a terrifying appearance, sharp claws and flame-like red eyes (I feel that this is quite in line with some characteristics of Tom ==), and it is specially used to frighten weak women. .

——Baidu? Top ten hoaxes in British history

Jar will be back tonight~ You can see me tomorrow~

I wish you all a happy reading~

╭(╯3╰)╮

93 A visit after an appointment

When Tom and Owen finally walked through the damp and cramped secret passage, and came out from behind the large mirror at the entrance, they found that the entire corridor was actually empty—by Merlin's blessing, they returned to Hogwarts.

Strange, even in such dire circumstances, the sudden relief of seeing those familiar stone walls, tapestries, portraits.

It seemed that even the moon hanging outside the window looked very different here. Owen could see the silvery moonlight penetrating through his transparent body, casting soft spots of light in the dark corridor.In this place, Tom doesn't have much advantage over Owen in knowing the way. It's hard to tell which of the two of them is more familiar with this place - but when it comes to night tour experience, of course Tom is better.

"I really don't understand why there are so many teachers who regard you as a good student at school," Owen muttered in a low voice, "It's as if the group has been under the spell of confusion—you still steal after the lights-out time. Sneak out as often as you go to Potions class, yet the prefects and Head Boy badges arrive on time every time..."

They walked up a staircase that often disappeared every Thursday. The old wooden steps creaked a bit, but it had always been quite hidden, and even the most mischievous ghosts did not like to haunt this place.

"A few mistakes," Tom said in a low voice slowly, raising the corners of his mouth. "First, you didn't distinguish the difference between a top student and an obedient student; second," he glanced at Owen, "I don't seem to remember you Saw me wear the Head Boys badge in seventh grade."

—This is really a vengeful man, and Owen began to silently lower his head and touch his nose again.

"As for exploring the secrets of Hogwarts occasionally at night—I don't think it makes sense to allow Gryffindors to wander around outside the dormitory every night and still get away with it. Besides, Owen, you're not that disciplined yourself."

Owen laughed self-deprecatingly: "I guess you want to tell me that we are born to despise all rules and regulations, don't we? Although—"

"continue."

"...although I've always thought that was a description of Gryffindor."

Obviously, Tom scoffed at this conclusion. If he hadn't heard a sound when they were about to walk up to the eighth floor, he would have laughed at Owen quietly but mercilessly.

An ugly stone beast behind the corner jumped to the sides, and a bright light slanted into the dark corridor, reflecting the figure of a tall and thin woman.She stood there, shadowy, broken fragments of sound drifting intermittently toward the dark staircase where Tom and Owen were hiding.

"...I dare say it's not good news, Albus... there's a good chance we won't be so lucky next time..."

——The dignified voice was very familiar, it was none other than Minerva McGonagall, the dean of Gryffindor.

Owen subconsciously shifted the wrong shoulder towards Tom, and wanted to stand in front of him, but someone grabbed his elbow.

Tom's smiling eyes were particularly black and white in the darkness, and there was something else in his eyes other than ridicule: You forgot that you are transparent now, Owen, you can't stop me at all—even so, I still appreciate your kindness.

Owen stared at him, sullen and frustrated.He blinked, meaning: How the hell did you see me?

Tom answered him silently: By the way, I was the one who made you invisible - and even if it wasn't, your height is not enough to completely cover me.

Owen gave Tom a hard look in annoyance: —Damn it!

Mag's shadow flickered for a moment, and she spoke again: "...No, of course I won't go down there, I'm going to the common room...Yeah, there really should be an overhaul—not to mention it's Sunday Four." The person who sent her down the spiral staircase seemed to say something to her again, and McGonagall took two steps back, and from Owen's perspective, she could only see her taut and straight back, her lips It must be a straight line now. "...no, Albus, thank you for your kindness," Owen vaguely heard her say, "but I don't want any cookies at all, no, I don't want any... good night."

McGonagall walked along the corridor and left in the opposite direction of the stairs where Owen and Tom hid.It wasn't until her thin back completely disappeared at the end of the corridor that Owen unconsciously let out a sigh of relief.The current head of Gryffindor and future headmistress Minerva McGonagall has always been his most respected professor at Hogwarts - of course he may not be referring to During the period when Professor Voldemort taught at Hogwarts.

Passing by those sleeping portraits - some of them would secretly open their eyes, follow the movement of the black figure striding past them, and then quickly close their eyes and pretend to sleep.Tom also came to the strangely ugly stone monster, and he whispered something to the stone beast right where Meg had just stood.

Not surprisingly, the stone beast jumped away, the wall split in two, and Owen followed Tom inside.The spiral staircase rose higher and higher, and finally, they came to Dumbledore's office.Tom tapped twice on the griffin-shaped brass ring on the door, and Dumbledore's voice came from inside: "Please come in."

This was undoubtedly a visit after an appointment, and it was only now that Owen was sure that Tom and he were not uninvited guests.Dumbledore looked serene and calm behind the desk, he showed no signs of fatigue, and his blue eyes shone brightly behind the half-moon lenses.

"Sorry, I didn't think of it beforehand, so I didn't prepare an extra chair, but it doesn't matter—" Dumbledore said lightly.He waved his wand, and a chair appeared spinning in the air, and then fell to the ground with a "poof", next to the armchair that was there, "Sit down, I think you must have traveled a long way. "

Tom waved his wand as a response to Dumbledore's greeting, and in the next second, Owen found himself revealed.In fact, he felt that it was a bit unnecessary, anyway, except for himself, the other two people in the room could see him without hindrance.

"Sit," said Dumbledore again, but he got up himself, went to a cabinet full of bottles and poured two glasses of wine and a butterbeer leisurely, "after a long walk Have something to drink, I don't think you will refuse?"

"Of course not," said Tom. "You're too thoughtful."

"Honestly, I'm a bit surprised by your unsolicited contact - sorry, Owen, only butterbeer, I certainly can't give you a whiskey at this age, it would be so much easier if you were Billy now In short, Tom, in the recent unsettled situation, your visit can be said to be a very happy thing for me."

When Dumbledore called out "Tom", Tom frowned visibly in displeasure.Apart from Owen, Dumbledore is probably the only person who will call him by his Christian name in person.Obviously, as long as the name didn't come from Owen's mouth, he would still have a strong aversion to it.Yet he didn't contradict or correct anything, since his previous statement never had any effect - Dumbledore was back behind his desk, toasting him from afar, and Tom lazily complied with the kindness of the occupant of the office. , as thanks for the drink.

The liking to appear lighthearted and extra-happy was simply Dumbledore's stubborn habit, and the best way to deal with it was to let him go, or at least appear as cheerful as Dumbledore.

None of them wants to dominate anyone.

——Owen was sensitive to the change in the atmosphere in the circular office, and the two people holding red wine glasses were quietly competing.

A phoenix on a gilded perch behind the door turned and flapped its wings, but that was really just a small movement of Fawkes in his deep sleep.Owen seemed to be sipping his butterbeer without distraction, and seemed to have developed a strong interest in the colorful crimson bird-to be honest, he seemed to see something weird in this phoenix. Victor's shadow.

"What a familiar scene," Dumbledore finally took the initiative to break the silence, he said with a smile, "It reminds me of the scene where you came to Hogwarts twice to apply for a job. In winter, Tom, the weather is much worse than it is now —You look better now than you did then, how pale you were when you first came. I can see that you don't really like teaching, but I really appreciate you not teaching me this semester Some of the students' knowledge beyond the scope, if they can be called knowledge-"

"I'm sorry," Tom interrupted coldly, "but I don't think I'm here for the end-of-year teaching evaluation with you, Dumbledore."

"Of course," Dumbledore smiled nonchalantly, not minding being interrupted at all, "of course. So what do you need me to do?"

Tom casually put the wine glass on a low table beside him, and tapped his index finger rhythmically on the table: "Come on, let's talk—of course you know what I need."

"But sometimes I guess wrong." Dumbledore said calmly.He suddenly turned to Owen kindly, "Need some more butterbeer, Owen? I noticed that your face is not very good."

Tom raised his eyebrows, he didn't turn his head, but he glanced at Owen out of the corner of his eye - almost choking on the last sip of butterbeer, Owen immediately shook his head sincerely and winked at Tom.

Dumbledore spread his hands, as if he was a little disappointed by Owen's rejection, but this did not affect his relaxed tone too much: "You are rarely so frank, Tom, I want to say that it is a good habit to get straight to the point. You want to I'll provide Billy Stubbs' death certificate in sixth grade, or I'll testify myself--that's a really good way to disprove a lie, and it's a good way to get you back. The thing is, Tom-- He gracefully pushed the glasses on his crooked nose and said calmly, "Why should I help you?"

"At this moment, half of the Ministry of Magic is against me, but the other half is not entirely in support of you." After looking away from Owen's face, Tom remained expressionless, almost indifferent, "I need Your help, and you need mine."

Dumbledore sat up straight, and put his fingertips together: "—oh?"

"Frankly," said Tom flatly, "I'm dangerous to you—"

"It's for everyone."

Tom turned a deaf ear to such interruptions: "—but not the most dangerous one." He went on, "You know... I've been going on, I've come as far as no man has gone before, But these are not all to me." His eyes wandered around the circular office, glancing at Han