Fail Demon King

The hair man gave him a sharp look, which made him retract his hand subconsciously.

As if dissatisfied with such an offense, the next moment, that indifferent and handsome face disappeared from the photo.

Owen was sure he had seen this man!For some reason, his heartbeat became flustered, and a rush of blood rushed to his head, making him almost unable to stand still.He eagerly opened the newspaper, wanting to know who it was.Soon, his eyes found the headline.

"Mr. Voldemort awarded the Order of Merlin, First Class."

...Merlin!

Owen felt that he was going crazy, he stared at the line in a daze, and told himself firmly that he was dreaming!

More horrible things were yet to come, and soon the dazed poor man saw the date of this "Daily Prophet" clearly, and at the same time saw himself reflected in the mirror on the fireplace-brown hair, blue eyes, obviously The Scott family features, but not his own face!

Owen fell to the ground, holding the newspaper blankly in his eyes, as if he was nailed there and could not move.The tiny print and the people moving about in the photographs seemed to mock him relentlessly.

——This is a first-degree magical accident, he thought vaguely.His mind seemed to be emptied, and Owen sat there blankly. After a while, he vaguely felt that this scene was somewhat familiar.He was knocked unconscious by the cauldron in the Room of Requirement, and then went back to decades ago, a serious space-time disorder event occurred, and some countermeasures were needed...

But he didn't seem too anxious, as if...he's used to this situation for a long time!

——With a "bang", the door of the room was suddenly pushed open.A middle-aged wizard with a livid face came in, and a witch with curly brown hair was babbling behind him: "Look, I said it a long time ago... you should go to St. Mungo's Hospital... oh my poor child……"

They were followed by two young boys aged sixteen or seventeen, all of them looked worried.

Owen’s eyes turned dark, it’s not his fault, it’s the same for anyone else—seeing the elders in his family suddenly appearing in front of him with an appearance of a few decades younger, it really makes people want to faint, but he cannot.Owen managed to squeeze out a dry voice: "Sorry, I..."

He couldn't go on talking, his brain was a mess of nettles, it seemed that the nerves there were all messed up and creaking.Should he tell the truth?What if I told the truth?Will anyone believe him?

This kind of situation couldn't help making people physically and mentally exhausted, so Owen simply shut up, planning to clear his mind before talking.

Owen Sco looked uneasily at his younger brother sitting on the ground with a dull expression: "Owen, you... how do you feel now?"

no answer.

Mrs. Scooby began to sob, and soon she was covering her face with her hands, and another son, Levins, who was standing beside her, put a comforting arm around her shoulders.

"Undoubtedly," as the head of the family, Mr. Scott sighed, and he unbuttoned the collar of his robe as if he couldn't breathe, "he has suffered from the aftereffects of the Amnesiac. Fortunately, Owen doesn't seem to be There is no mania or mental regression-" He squatted carefully, trying to pull up his youngest son, but Owen's sluggish appearance was too sad.Mr. Skoe cleared his throat, sighed at last, and cried, "DeBerner!"

With a sound of "Bo", the reliable elf appeared out of nowhere: "Sir."

Mr. Scott emotionally pulled his sad wife out of the door. He looked back for the last time and waved his hand dejectedly: "Take care of Owen."

"Yes, sir."

Owen's eyes were always dark.He didn't know when the people in the room went out, or even when he was picked up by the house elf and moved to the bed. When his eyes finally found focus, he found that his hand was still there. Take that damned Daily Prophet.

The handsome black-haired man returned to the photo at some point.Voldemort in this photograph does not appear to have undergone any dangerous transformations, and his eyes do not have the "murderous red light" that is often described in documents.He just looked at Owen quietly, and then showed a sarcastic smirk that Owen is very familiar with!Owen seized the moment, tried desperately to retrieve the familiar feeling in his mind, and finally gave up in dismay: he remembered nothing.

Damn Merlin, life is like an April Fool's joke - Owen shuts his eyes helplessly.

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By the time Owen started to adapt to his current life, half a month had passed.Everything is ridiculous-this is the second half of the twentieth century, he returned to his family decades ago, his father Chafisco was not even born, and he himself became the "" Disappeared uncle!"

Fortunately, it is currently summer vacation, and everything seems to be salvageable, because apart from losing all the memories of the past, Owen's behavior is extremely normal-he is purely a young wizard who grew up in a pure-blood family.

Moreover, the portraits of Scott's ancestors hanging on both sides of the corridor agree that the silly, sensitive and timid neurotic character of the young descendant in the past seems to have disappeared along with his memory.

This is good news.

At the end of July, the owl sent Olwen's final wizard level test results at the end of last semester, and the eldest son of the Scorch family successfully graduated from Hogwarts.At the same time, Owen also got good grades in the general wizard level test-of course, the confused student didn't remember how he took the test-but it didn't matter, the family's gloom was greatly diluted, and the atmosphere at the breakfast table finally regained relief.

"Your Aunt Delia's daughter entered Ravenclaw last year," Mr. Scot said angrily, the silver egg cooker in front of him was turning slowly by itself, "that old guy Hawkman is so happy .”

"Come on, come on," the gentle Mrs. Scot smoothed things over, "Stop saying a few words, Caveney, that's your sister after all."

"I have to say that you and Uncle Hawkman's idea is a bit strange, father. The best place for us is of course Slytherin, and Gryffindor is also okay. But we don't have a family yet. Where's the Winclaws," said Olwin, chopping up his bacon, "that's kind of interesting, isn't it? Of course, it's a family tradition, but none of us like to admit that the Scotts have brains. Not very bright."

"Nonsense," said Mr. Scot emphatically. "Remember, Olwin: the absence of Ravenclaw only means that in our family, intelligence is only the least prominent trait."

——In other words, in fact, their family probably didn't have the trait of being smart at all.Owen ate his breakfast silently with his head down, without saying anything.

Since he learned from Debner that the magical accident of the Forgetting Curse happened, it was purely a clever young nobleman who wanted to practice the spell secretly during the holiday, but accidentally took the wand upside down, and finally cast a magic wand inexplicably. After forgetting the curse, he felt that the world was too dizzy.Yes, Owen admits, accident-proneness is a Scottish trait—but is that a little too much?

The good thing is that the accident spares him from having to explain why, as Owen, he has no memory of the past 15 years (damn Merlin, he's someone else).But there was a very strange thought secretly brewing in his heart: don't say anything, just like you once did—because you can't explain clearly, and you can't solve it.And to be honest, he doesn't think he misses the 21st century very much.

Inexplicably, Owen realized that his subconscious was full of mysteries.

"Where's Levins? There's no one in the morning - look at your son, Angesa! I don't know what a boy who started seventh grade will be so busy that he doesn't even have time to eat with his family... ..."

"Come on, come on, dear, that's your son too. Levins is just busy, he's a Slytherin Chaser, isn't he?"

"Yes, mother. The three Carter brothers and he had a Quidditch mock match today, I guess they are near the lake on the west side of the manor..."

"I'm going to Diagon Alley in two days to buy school supplies for Owen and Levins..."

The conversation at the dinner table continued, but those voices drifted farther and farther in Owen's ears, until—

"—Owen? Owen!"

It took Owen a long time to react before he raised his head and agreed.It was strange—that the name seemed strange to him, as if he hadn't been called Owen for a long time.But of course, it could also have something to do with his mind-wandering.

"What's the matter, kid?" Mrs. Scot stood up from the end of the long table, walked over and patted Owen on the shoulder tenderly, "Does your head hurt? Look," she smiled slightly, hiding the worry in her eyes , "You dropped the spoon on the table."

"I'm... fine." Facing the genuinely loving mother's eyes, Owen felt extremely uncomfortable. In fact, he didn't remember the appearance of his long-lost mother at all.Coughing twice, he tore off his napkin in embarrassment, "I'm really fine. I've finished eating...Mom. I want to go for a walk."

54 An Ignorant Reunion

The morning sun was shining brightly, and the leaves of the bushes were shining green.Owen sat on a carved bench, and some gold-winged elves flew around the high fence.He was idly beating the branches of the plants with his wand, and there was one more thing that irritated him: the wand didn't belong to him, so it couldn't be easier to use.

A gust of wind stirred the bushes, and Owen didn't want to go into the house or stay there any longer.He didn't know where to go, and a kind of boredom with nowhere to go made him really want to throw a few spells at the grass.But in the end he held back.

Owen stood up awkwardly, he put his wand back into the pocket of his robe, and his fingers accidentally touched something else.He pulled it out--the front page photo of the Daily Prophet folded squarely.Owen pinched it in his hand and stared at it for a while, then suddenly raised his head and called out to the air, "Debner!"

The house-elf appeared: "Here is Debner, Master Owen."

"I want to know something, DeBerner. About—" Owen said casually, but the way he carefully smoothed out the folds of the newspaper didn't fit his casual tone at all. "What do you know about this man?"

— Debner knew too much.

An hour and a half passed, dizzy from the summer sun, and Owen began to wonder if Debner was the Dark Lord's number one admirer, otherwise he seemed to memorize all the newspaper reports and magazine interviews about Voldemort .

"...the rise, yes, Mr. Voldemort's supporters call it the great rise of an ancient and noble lineage. In recent years he has made outstanding contributions to the magic business, international wizarding cooperation and exchanges... The open secret is that he The importance of the Ministry of Magic is becoming more and more important; it is said that the high-level Silent Man of the Department of Mysteries has also publicly expressed his gratitude to him recently, which means that he also has the right to speak on top-secret matters in the magic world..."

"—Thank you," Owen gasped, driving away the golden-winged elves with a pale face.DeBerner's uninterrupted and uninterrupted words reminded him of Professor Binns' History of Magic class, "...well, DeBerner, enough is enough."

"Yes." The elf stopped immediately, and the fluff in his ears trembled slightly in the wind, "If you still want to know more about that gentleman's deeds, there is a book about you in the third drawer under the closet in your room. A collection of newspaper clippings."

"I see. The newspaper said that he is—is he our professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts next semester?" Owen paused, because he thought what he just said was ridiculous—the Dark Lord was going to teach the Dark Arts. Defense?This really makes one wonder if the great Dumbledore was under the Imperius Curse.

"Yes, Master Owen."

"The last question, he—" Inexplicably, Owen felt that his heart was beating abnormally, "Is he married?"

"No." DeBerner shook his head and replied, and the old elf smiled meaningfully. "Mr. Voldemort has been celibate all these years."

The house-elf had left.Owen was still sitting on the bench thoughtfully, he couldn't help but look down at the black-haired man in the photo.As expected, he was glared sharply by those black eyes again.

The Dark Lord in the photo couldn't just jump out and give him the Avada Kedavra just because he was crumpled - Owen thought unwillingly.So he stared back at the cold stare, then quickly folded it into a cube with guilt, and carefully put it back in his pocket.

In mid-August, London ushered in a fine and sunny weather.This is the perfect time to buy school supplies, and the Scott family has two children who are going to Diagon Alley.

"Don't worry, Mom," said Levins to the worried Mrs. Scot, "I will take good care of Owen."

Yet he clearly doesn't take his promise very seriously.Less than three minutes after arriving at the destination via Floo powder, a group of seventh-graders called Levins away.

Owen is not dissatisfied with this matter, on the contrary, he is more comfortable alone.To be honest, he was hesitant to buy a new wand for a while.Thinking about this question, he absently pushed open the door of the robe shop.

Owen walked to the back of the store familiarly. Behind the rows of hangers, there was already a young man standing on the footstool. Mrs. Malkin was pinning the dark gray robe he was wearing.

"—Oh, good morning, Owen." The young man turned to look at Owen. He had a handsome and pale face, with a proud expression common to pure-blooded nobles, and pale golden hair hanging on his shoulders, " You also come to buy a robe?"

"..."

"Well, I know you had a magical accident. In fact, there are not many people who don't know about it." The boy pouted and said, he stretched his arms, raised his chin, and pointed to Madam Malkin's left shoulder. Also add a pin, "It's no surprise that you forgot who I am—you can remember that you are already a miracle of Merlin—I'm Lucius," he glanced at Owen's slightly open mouth, and waved He repeated, "Lucius Malfoy."

——Of course, that platinum blonde hair basically says it all.Owen touched his nose, and stiffly stepped onto the footstool beside Lucius: "...Thank you for introducing yourself. Good morning, Lucius."

Mrs. Malkin and the other two witches were quick to measure the size and adjust the position of the pins. There was only the sound of automatic scissors clicking and cutting the fabric in the shop.

After a while, Lucius said: "You've been quieter, Owen." He frowned, "I hope you can keep this quality until the beginning of this year. You still remember that you sang the school song by yourself in the dormitory last semester What about it? All Slytherins are going crazy."

Owen replied bluntly: "Sorry, I don't remember."

"Indeed, it's not surprising." Lucius smiled gracefully, "—do you remember that we are roommates?"

"……do not remember."

"I told you last term that there will be a big surprise at Hogwarts this year - a big man will come to teach at the school. Did you see the report?"

"...I saw it."

"I like the way you speak now," Lucius nodded in satisfaction, and he got off the footstool and stood in front of the mirror, "Succinct and clear—finally like a Slytherin. Do you remember—"

"...Sorry," Owen closed his eyes and interrupted him in a calm tone, "I didn't mean to offend, but if you remember that I was under the Oblivion Curse, Lucius, I don't think you need to use 'You Remember the 'beginning of a sentence like this.'

Lucius turned his head to look at Owen in a little surprise, but soon turned to the mirror calmly: "It makes sense." He said slowly.He looked at his robe with his chin raised, with a dissatisfied expression, "Mrs. Malkin, I'm sorry, I don't think I like this color very much."

"But," said the short witch with a smile on her face, she was not as fat as Owen remembered, "this is Madam asking you—"

Lucius frowned. "I think I have the ability to decide the color of my robe—"

"—Really?" An elegant female voice rang out, and the store door was pushed open, "But unfortunately, Lucius, I don't think so."

Lucius looked back with some annoyance: "Oh, mother, for Merlin's sake, I'm not a child anymore."

A tall and slender witch came to the shop. Her curly black hair and pale smooth face made her look young—at least not like a child of Lucius' age—and that haughty look was obvious. Passed on to her son.

Some fuzzy black figures seemed to crash into the brain suddenly! ——At the moment he saw Mrs. Malfoy, Owen was stunned again.

"I don't like the color, Mother," Lucius said, twirling his platinum-blonde hair, mirroring his mother's sombre look. "Father says dark green matches our family's hair better."

"It's sad that my own children have such taste." Mrs. Malfoy snorted coldly, and said in a low voice, "Since 20 years ago, I have been extremely suspicious that your father has mixed color blindness."

"..."

"Okay, don't talk too much." She said flatly, and handed Madam Malkin a purse, "Also, tie up your hair, Lucius, I don't want people to think that my son is a fool when looking from behind. tall girl."

"..."

——This sentence is even more wrong!In an instant, besides those black shadows, Owen felt various human voices pouring into his mind:

"...invited to the Yule Ball..."

"...the tall, long-haired girl... from Slytherin... do you know?"

——Who is it? !Who is talking? !

"Your complexion is not very good," a cold voice pulled Owen out of the blurred vortex, "is it because of a magical accident?"

"Sorry, ma'am," Owen said with difficulty, he raised his head and found himself already drenched in cold sweat, "I'm fine."

"It depends on the situation." The elegant witch said displeasedly, "Your father should let your brother follow you." She glanced at Owen's face again, and then walked towards the door of the shop, "— Lucius."

Lucius reluctantly changed the robes, had Madam Malkin wrap them up, and left her a date for the owl to be sent to Malfoy Manor.He gestured to Owen, which probably meant "let me write if you have anything to do, please do not disturb if you have nothing to do", and then left with his mother.

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—things are very queer!He must have missed something...something very important...but he couldn't remember—damn it!

Owen was walking in Diagon Alley in a daze. The August sun shone warmly on the round cobblestones, but he actually felt cold all over.He walked forward in a daze, his thoughts drifting away, not even aware that a child's raspberry ice cream dropped on his robe.until he was hit hard by someone—

"I'm sorry." He said subconsciously.

"Hey!" The man straightened his robe angrily, not realizing that the melted ice cream was now sticking to his waist, "Look out!"

The angrily walked away, Owen seemed to be awakened from a dream, and stood there motionless for a long time.

After a while, Owen began to look around. He was walking in a dark and narrow alley, and the words "Medusa Alley" were barely legible on a decayed wooden sign at the entrance of the alley.

——Merlin, the Knockturn Alley fork 60 years ago!How should he get out?

It is not uncommon to get lost here, but this alley without a little sunshine makes people feel chills behind.Owen's magic power has been unstable recently, and he thinks it probably has something to do with the fact that he just returned to this world 50 years ago, and he is not old enough, so he can't apparate, so he can only try to find a way out.

He walked forward for a while, and stopped at another fork in the road.Suddenly there was a sound of steady footsteps behind him, which sounded unhurried, not like those witches and wizards who were busy pulling people into the dark shop.

Owen turned his head eagerly, wanting to ask for directions: "Excuse me, sir, may I ask—"

A tall man in a black robe stopped two yards from him.He held a black cane and looked at Owen expressionlessly.

Owen froze as if under a Body Binding Charm, and it didn't take a second glance to recognize who it was—he'd seen a picture of this man, in the Daily Prophet!This was the subject of his ill-fated graduation thesis in his previous life, and he was also his Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher this semester; the name that people have been talking about since Owen woke up in this world-Voldemort.

He looked thinner and paler than in the photo (yes, paler than the black-and-white photo), almighty Merlin, this dark lord with a nose is not at all deformed like the picture found in the file, in fact he is almost Extremely handsome.

Owen lowered his head subconsciously, not wanting to look into those cold black eyes.For some reason, he felt that he couldn't breathe, the lobes of his lungs were churning together, some strange black shadows were swaying in front of his eyes, and he felt a sharp pain in his head——

"Can you get out of the way?" The dark-haired man narrowed his eyes, as if he was impatient with the dull Owen, but he had a very magnetic deep voice, which made his voice so calm Elegantly, "Wait until I pass by before guarding this fork, Mr. Sphinx."

The alley is so narrow that only one person can pass through it.Owen touched his nose in embarrassment, and took a step back to the right fork: "Uh, sir—"

"You're just blocking the way I'm going."

Owen choked for a moment, silently took a step from the right branch, and retreated to the left: "I'm sorry, sir, I just want to ask—"

Voldemort walked past Owen without looking sideways. His back was tall and straight, striding forward, and the corner of his black robe was slightly lifted by the wind.

Owen was taken aback for a moment, he somehow felt that this figure from the back was extremely familiar, but he couldn't remember where he had seen it before anyway.Seeing the tall man walking farther and farther away, he hastened to catch up two steps: "Sir! Could you please tell me how to get back to Diagon Alley? If you don't mind, just give me a rough direction—" —”

"I mind."

"...Excuse me, sir... I am a student at Hogwarts..."

A short sneer was the only response, and the man in black robe was still walking fast with big strides.

Owen felt that he should give up. Although he knew that the current Dark Lord would not turn around and give him an Avada Kedavra, it was obvious that continuing to pester him would definitely not end well.But for some reason, when he saw the slender figure, he subconsciously wanted to follow.He bit the bullet and continued: "...For Merlin's sake, you are a teacher of Defense Against the Dark Arts—"

"I'm not a teacher until September." The tall man stopped suddenly, and Owen almost bumped into him.His deep voice softened and became very cold, "——are you the one from the Scott family who forgets everything?"

It was extremely awkward to be called that. Billy touched his nose and replied dryly, "Yes, sir."

"Great." The man said flatly, "Don't talk so much in my class from now on."

In the next second, the black figure disappeared—he disapparated.

Owen was thrown alone in the middle of the narrow alley in a daze, and he felt so depressed before: in this conversation, he didn't even finish a sentence!He admits that he has a bad sense of direction—this is due to the famous blood of the Scott family—but he is just asking for directions sincerely. Does the damn Merlin have to treat him like this?

Fortunately, 10 minutes later, Debner finally found Owen.He was taken aback by the sudden appearance of the house-elf.

DeBerner bowed deeply and said sharply, "I'm sorry, Master Owen, for keeping you here so long, and DeBerner apologizes to you! Master Levins says you're missing—"

"It's okay," Owen exhaled, "It's okay, Debner, go home."

The first thing Owen did when he got home was to write a letter to Lucius. He briefly described the not-so-pleasant experience, and at the same time asked very tactfully about their new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor's likes and dislikes .However, he didn't receive a reply until near the start of school. Lucius had written seven large sheets of parchment, so it was no wonder that his reply was delayed for so long.

The writing style of this letter is quite sophisticated, full of various vague hints, obscure metaphors and confusing allusions, and finally can be summed up in one main idea-the grown-up has a bad temper and hates lost fools.

55 A box door pulled back abruptly

At the end of the summer vacation, a heavy rain swept across London.There are wet footprints everywhere in King's Cross Station, and the crowd is particularly crowded and chaotic.

It's September [-]st again—Owen is dragging a heavy box and a brown-eyed owl with wide eyes to the red steam train.To be honest, he feels that he has driven and learned many times, and he is a bit exhausted physically and mentally.

After Levins swore for the seventh time to the worried Mrs. Skow that he would take care of his brother, the whistling siren blew sharply, and he and Owen had to get their luggage on the train as quickly as possible, while on the platform The whole family grieves as if the two of them are going to attack the giants of the Balkans.

"—Again, I will take good care of Owen, so don't cry, Mom!" The train started, and the wet and cold wind blew the hair of Levins out of the window. He shouted loudly, "Also, this year Stop sending me letters from that owl that likes to doze off in flight! It keeps falling headfirst into my oatmeal—”

The rapidly retreating figures quickly became blurred, and finally disappeared completely from sight.Levins coughed a half-hoarse voice: "Let's put our luggage in the box, Owen—Owen? Where have you been?" He turned around, and a few junior students passing by in the corridor walked around him carefully He walked over, because the wild hair made him look a little scary.

Levins froze for a moment, then suddenly leaned out of the window again, the raindrops slanted against his face, forcing him to squint his eyes: "For Merlin's sake... Alvin! You can still hear What?! Mom—Is Owen not in the car?!"

Owen got in the car, of course.

In order to find an empty box as soon as possible, and also to avoid those kind or malicious greetings such as "I heard you have been under the Forgetting Curse, Owen, are you okay?" and "Hey Sko, do you remember me?" Leaving Levins aside for a moment, he walked down the aisle to the back of the car.

The box was so disturbingly heavy that Owen naturally took out his wand and cast a Levitation Charm on the cumbersome thing after he got close to the rear of the car and didn't find a box.

However, he forgot that the wand was out of hand—the accident in Diagon Alley kept him from buying a new one—and the heavy box flew up horribly, nearly hitting the roof of the car, and then "Bang" hit the ground heavily!The whole carriage seemed to vibrate, and the brown owl in the cage was frightened, flapping its wings and screaming angrily.

The box let out an unfortunate whine, and its lid cracked painfully.The things that were neatly folded were shaken to a mess, and some odds and ends had leaked out of the seams. Owen hastily waved his wand again awkwardly, and finally forced it to close slightly.

"Oh..." He knelt down and hurriedly picked up the scattered things on the ground, moaned in great frustration, and shook the owl's cage, "Merlin's underwear! Hefner, please stop screaming ——" Before he finished speaking, he was severely pecked on his finger by the angry big fat bird.

Fortunately, there was no one in the aisle here, so Owen hurriedly picked up a looking glass and a pocket Quidditch handbook, and suddenly——

"boom!"

Owen was taken aback. He looked sideways, only to find that the sliding door of the compartment next to him was open a small crack, and something inside seemed to be hitting the door hard.

"Boom!"

There were two more calls, and the brown-headed eagle that was locked in a cage hooted impatiently beside it.This time Owen saw it clearly, there seemed to be a furry thing trying to squeeze out from the crack of the door, and soon, he saw a pointed beak and a small wing that kept flapping——

"Whoosh!" As if a fluffy ball had shot out of that compartment, a little owl jumped out!Half the size of a normal owl, he twittered non-stop and looked as if madly happy, flying in circles around Owen's shoulders.

Owen was dazzled by him, and the big brown owl seemed to be offended by something, fluttering its wings in the cage violently, always wanting to stick out its hard beak to peck the noisy little thing.

For some reason, since the first time he saw the little owl, Owen thought he was much cuter than the fierce owl Hefner.He quickly reached out his hand to block the angry Hefner: "Stop, don't peck him. You lost your temper enough today."

Hefner angrily pecked Owen's hand, then turned his back resentfully and no longer looked at him.The little owl looked happier. He stopped on Owen's shoulder and kept rubbing his furry round head against Owen's cheek.Owen was almost amused by his contentment, he stroked the little owl's head, and was about to thank him for his kindness - suddenly, the sliding door of the next compartment was completely opened.

"—Victor," a cold voice came from inside, "come back."

The voice was so familiar, Owen shivered slightly.

He carefully blocked the half-cracked box, and looked into the compartment as calmly as possible.As soon as he saw that cold and handsome face, he immediately felt that his tongue was numb, and his whole body was stiff as if he had been cast with a binding spell——

Voldemort in black was sitting on the sofa. The bright red armchair didn't match him at all, but the dark and rainy day outside the window matched his expression.On the table in front of him is a small snake with a thick wrist and a head held up (of course, it is very unwise to bring a giant snake like Nagini directly onto the train); and beside him stands a young man with a head She has long dark chestnut hair and looks very pretty.

"I didn't find an empty box? Indeed, I think there are a lot of new students this year." The young man smiled gently and said to Owen who was standing at the door, but the smile didn't seem to reach his eyes, "Hello, I'm you guys Teaching assistant for the Defense Against the Dark Arts course this semester."

Owen couldn't speak - it was so rude - but he really couldn't!

As if under a tongue-stopping spell, he stood there stunned, feeling something stuck in his throat, while those mysterious figures he had recently become familiar with were bouncing back and forth in his mind, laughing, making funny the sound of!

Incomparably weird—that young man's face actually made him feel like he was facing a mirror!

Elegant man in black robe sitting on sofa tapping rhythmically with index finger