Fail Demon King

The door of the defense teacher's office was opened, and Voldemort and Owen walked in one after the other.It is clear that the new owner's personal style has been clearly marked there.Pushing open the door, you can see that the office is completely covered by thick dark green curtains, and a bright green-orange fire burns in the fireplace.

However, before Owen could see the other arrangements clearly, he felt a blur in front of his eyes, and a fluffy ball rushed towards him quickly.The little owl Victor twittered and pecked Owen's hair, almost ecstatic.

"Now, Victor," said Voldemort, "go to Nagini."

On a giant "T" carved wooden frame, there is a lazy giant snake coiled.The little owl reluctantly flew over and landed at the end of the shelf.Nagini rested her huge head next to Viktor, gloating at him.

There was a sudden gap in the side of the office, and a door opened.

The door was extremely concealed. The vine carvings and silver patterns on it were exactly the same as the surrounding walls. If it didn't move suddenly, Owen wouldn't have noticed that it could be opened there.He hadn't noticed that there was another room in this office before - but of course, he himself hadn't been to the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher's office a few times - there was no doubt that it should be where the professors lived up.

The person who came out was obviously startled when he saw Owen. This was the handsome young man Owen had seen on the train, and he was also the teaching assistant of Defense Against the Dark Arts—if he remembered correctly, The young man's name was Benjamin.

Benjamin came out from inside. He gave Owen a slightly surprised look, then bowed respectfully to Voldemort: "Sorry," he glanced at Owen again, "...Sir, I didn't expect you to come back so early -"

The man in black waved his hand casually, and Benjamin immediately stopped talking.Owen noticed a bloodstain on Benjamin's neck, probably scratched by that wayward little owl again.He unconsciously glanced at Victor standing on the shelf. The little owl met his gaze, chirped twice in aggrieved manner, and then raised its wings to cover its eyes.

Voldemort raised his jaw coldly towards the office door: "Go out."

Benjamin blinked quickly: "I thought the confinement would start tomorrow—" However, seeing Voldemort raise his eyebrows, he gritted his teeth, his brown eyes flickered, and finally he could only utter one word, "... yes. "

However, before he left the door, Voldemort stopped him again: "Don't try to put Victor in a cage next time, you know that's what he hates the most." The man in the black robe waved his wand casually, and Benjamin The bloodstain on the neck disappeared immediately.Voldemort paused, then continued expressionlessly, "He has a bad temper, but he never takes the initiative to attack those who don't provoke him."

Benjamin pursed his lips and bowed, then strode open the door and walked out.When he passed by Owen, Owen noticed that his face was slightly pale.

But soon Owen realized that he had no time to worry about other people's faces, and the person he should worry about most was himself.

Voldemort calmly walked behind the desk and sat down. He casually tapped the table with his index finger. The rhythmic click sound made Owen feel like his hair was counting down for some reason.Even though the fire in the office is so bright and warm, this handsome black-haired man is still pale and bloodless.

— almost like a ghost.Owen thought silently, and then was really taken aback by his own thought.To be honest, he still finds it inconceivable that the Dark Lord would come to teach at Hogwarts.He always thought that in this age, the man sitting in front of him should already be committed to destroying the world. How much inconvenience would it cause his "great cause" at school... To put it another way, he felt that in the first Bryan was right when he said after Defense Against the Dark Arts class that Dumbledore was probably really a little crazy...

"He's kind of crazy," said a low voice, drawn out deliberately, "but no one can deny that he's a great wizard, and—" the voice sneered, " Anyway, he's smart."

Owen woke up suddenly, and Voldemort in front of him was staring straight at him: "Wh-sorry, Professor," he cleared his throat, "What did you say?"

"I don't know what you were thinking before," Voldemort snorted coldly, "but you said the last sentence."

"..."

"Okay," said Voldemort casually, glancing at a pocket clock on the table, "now let's see what you can do with your confinement tonight."

Owen stared blankly at Voldemort, unable to react.The Dark Lord is really not suitable for teaching, which is so baffling!He was put in confinement, and the professor who put him in confinement didn't even think about what to ask him to do——

"Because I haven't been in confinement much, so I don't have enough experience." The Dark Lord said casually, "Give me a suggestion, Sco, what can the teacher ask the students to do during the confinement?"

"Work, sir," replied Owen dryly, "or whatever you want me to do." Could the professor let him go back—

—Of course not.

"Excellent," Voldemort nodded, his elbows resting on the table, his fingers intertwined casually, "so be it—"

The black-haired man's voice softened, and after a while, the pale and cold lips did not seem to open, but a low hiss sounded.The sound gradually became louder, and Owen saw the heavy giant snake climbed down from the shelf, swam towards this side lumberingly, and finally stopped at his feet.

Nagini slowly straightened herself up, her head and neck stretched higher and higher until she was at Owen's eye level.Owen Skoe has a pair of blue, almost transparent eyes and a head of soft brown hair - the snake eyes with vertical pupils facing him are like a bright mirror, where his figure is reflected.

The big snake hissed and spit out the letter, and tilted its head and neck.It was so strange, she looked at Owen quietly, and Owen also looked at her quietly, feeling a strange peace in her heart.If he wasn't worried about being too offensive, he almost wanted to reach out and touch the top of his head covered with cold scales.

A pair of black eyes were always watching him thoughtfully from behind the desk.

"Afraid of my snake, Sco?"

Owen replied honestly: "Not afraid, sir."

Voldemort snorted without emotion, waved his hand, and a box on the fireplace flew smoothly onto the desk: "Take it."

Owen picked up the box, opened it suspiciously, and then blinked hard uncontrollably—it turned out that it was a candy mouse sold in a box of Honeybee Dukes.The big snake spat out the letter expectantly in front of him, and its thick tail tapped the floor lightly. Owen suddenly had a flash of inspiration——Merlin, are you going to let him feed the snake?

Owen looked uncertainly at the realistic mouse candy that was less than half the size of his palm, then glanced at the size of the big snake in front of him, and turned to the man sitting leisurely behind the desk: "—Professor? "

Voldemort took Owen's wand that had just been confiscated in the hall, and slowly tapped his pale palm: "What?"

Owen said cautiously: "...Are you sure these mice... are enough?" He concealed the last part of the sentence: Shouldn't this big snake be fed with at least chocolate antelope or wild boar jelly?

Voldemort twisted his thin lips maliciously: "I'm sure." He raised his jaw with interest, "Go."

As soon as the Dark Lord finished speaking, Victor, who was originally standing on the shelf, was not to be outdone, and flew over chirping.Nagini jerked his head at him immediately, hissing threateningly.

——For some reason, Owen subconsciously felt that the snake and the eagle were going to fight over the candies in his hand.

"……sorry?"

During Monday's herbal medicine class, Lucius looked at Owen suspiciously. He stretched out his hand and slowly rubbed his temples, and said calmly, "I think it's because I didn't sleep well on the weekend. I just misheard you. What was said. Can you repeat, Owen - what did you do while you were in lockdown for three nights, Friday through Sunday?"

Owen didn't meet Lucius for the whole weekend. It's hard to say what Lucius did, but he was obviously very curious about Owen's weekend experience.

"Nothing, just what I just said," Owen said dryly, and a poisonous crappieva weed vine approached him from behind, and he knocked it off with a spell, "—feed the owl , feeding snakes, and copying the Slytherin Code of Conduct."

To be honest, it's rare to see that "Damn Merlin, I can't understand this" look on Lucius' face.Owen wondered if the ever-Malfoy-esque Slytherin prefect would have made a more unusual show if he told Lucius that he shared an apple pie with Nagini and Victor on Sunday night. The expression on his face——he barely resisted the temptation with difficulty.

In fact, halfway through the last session of the weekend, Benjamin opened the door and respectfully told the Dark Lord that something needed to be done.Owen, who thought that the confinement would end early because of this, was full of hope—in contrast, he was disappointed—in the end, he was coldly told by Voldemort before leaving the door to stay in this office until 10:30. Copy the "Code" at least ten times.

"I really don't know what he's going to do," said Owen darkly. "Copying the Code is fine--I mean, it's a common punishment in our college at least--but what I don't understand is that I Kind of like being the professor's pet sitter. That's not quite normal, is it?"

There seemed to be something "puchi" laughing beside him.Owen looked back very sensitively, but it turned out that it was not someone who heard his words and laughed, but a pot of rhizomes that were restlessly pawing at the soil.Owen pressed it back angrily.

"It seems inconvenient for me to express any opinions, because I feel that this matter itself is under a confusion spell." Lucius looked at Owen with a strange expression, and after a while, he said slowly, "I originally wanted to give you One piece of advice, that's 'be careful with etiquette, watch what you say, and don't offend the professor'—but now I don't think you need it."

"I'm sorry," Owen frowned, looking at him puzzled, "but can I ask—why?"

"There are two kinds of people who have nothing to do with this advice, and I think you're one of them." Lucius trimmed the poison ivy sloping from the crappieva grass, and sealed them into a dragonhide pocket Here, he said slowly, "All in all, I seem to have a feeling—he either hates you very much, or likes you very much."

"..."

"Objectively speaking, I think the latter possibility seems unlikely." Lucius shook his head, thinking like his intelligent mother, "What do you think?"

"..."

Owen couldn't say anything.He cleared his dry throat, and felt that his eyes were gloomy.He unconsciously flicked the wand, which was sometimes useful and sometimes ineffective, and a poisonous tentacle bounced from the soil, hooking off the green ribbon that tied Lucius's loose hair.

59 A Crazy Boggart

Two and a half months into school - perhaps not that long - Defense Against the Dark Arts has managed to become the subject that Owen dreads most.

——No, it doesn't seem appropriate to say that. In fact, Owen has quite mixed feelings about this course.

He had never felt so nervous about walking into the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom on the third floor, nor had he felt so mixed about seeing or not seeing a professor.Several times, when he saw a tall figure in a black robe coming from the corner in the corridor, he immediately turned around and walked away reflexively, only to find out later that it was Professor Chris who taught medieval runes and changed it on a whim. the color of the clothes.

For this reason, Lucius has laughed at him more than once: "This is a bit too much, Owen. You haven't noticed Chris's big red nose? It looks like a chicken leg across his face—— That's one of his signature traits."

"...Yeah, it's embarrassing that I confused Chris with your super idol, isn't it?" Owen retorted mercilessly as he calmed down his heartbeat that had just lost control, "But I don't It’s very uncommon to think that you’re mistaken for someone. You must remember that just the day before yesterday, someone mistakenly identified you with the female student council president of our academy.”

"..."

However, things are far more than that simple.Owen soon discovered that his feelings for the professor were anything but awe and fear—what, he refused to try to think.

Another lesson on Defense Against the Dark Arts today.

As a matter of course, the punctual professor walked into the classroom with the bell ringing.He seemed to be in a good mood, although that pale handsome face was still expressionless.If Owen remembers correctly, the progress of this lesson should be to learn how to use the Patronus Charm to expel dementors.However, according to Professor Voldemort, the Azkaban guards who live in the dark are like a wizard's best friend:

"...I'm not saying it's such a pleasant creature," the black-robed man walked slowly between the seats, as if floating on water, his calm, thoughtful voice enveloped the whole House, "but there is no doubt that wizards have not done much justice to them over the years: we call them evil—just because they desire pleasure."

He paused.Half the students in the classroom who had heard of the rotting, hideous dark creature shuddered involuntarily.

"Of course, the relationship between wizards and dementors is one of mutual use," Voldemort said with a nonchalant chuckle as he glanced over the upturned faces, "but the relationship couldn't be more honest. Azkaban's The guards have worked hard for many years. They and we each get what we need and help us remove all cowardly and weak people. Getting along with them can test a person's mind and will to the greatest extent. They can't put those flames in your heart But what a pity," he said coldly, "you're going to learn how to banish them today—well, now get out your wand."

The whole class immediately did as he ordered, with only a few exceptions.

——For the words just now, most of the Gryffindor students didn't take it seriously, and their faces showed an unbearable twisted expression that dared not speak out.As if they didn't believe that Voldemort would really teach them how to defend against dementors, a few boys hesitated for a while, but finally drew their wands slowly.

Owen noticed that Brian, who seemed the most indignant and reluctant of the bunch, was the last to produce a spare wand—the confiscated one he never asked for.McGonagall even came forward to negotiate with Voldemort, but was rejected by the head of Slytherin uncompromisingly. The reason is said to be that "Gryffindor should at least learn how to use his brain—not just use his brain." Magic bullies people."

Not sure if these words were invented by imaginative students, but all in all, when Professor McGonagall stormed out of the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor's office, her lips were tighter than ever. , and almost collided head-on with Irving, who was going to confinement on the weekend.

Gryffindor's antagonism was obvious, but the condescending professor turned a blind eye to it, and he remained so cold and expressionless.Owen felt that the man actually knew quite well what the students sitting below were thinking, but he didn't bother to show contempt and disgust towards them.

Soon, the class became a mess.At the beginning, most of the people were honestly trying to use the silent spell, but the flushed faces and unresponsive wands proved that the happiness they recalled must have been greatly discounted, so after a while, they whispered "Calling God to guard" buzzed all over the class.

From a certain point of view, Gryffindor's worries about Voldemort are right at all. The irresponsible professor neither explained nor demonstrated, but just casually asked them to turn the book to No.60 Seven pages—"Read it yourself," said Voldemort lazily, "I believe you know all the words on those pages"—and said nothing more.

Owen's wand lost his temper again today, which doomed him to lose face in this course.It didn't respond at all in his hands, it was not as good as a branch grabbed from a tree at random.Most were not much better than him, though, except for one Ravenclaw girl, and only Lucius spewed a silvery shadow from the tip of his wand - vaguely in the shape of a white peacock.

Some ungrouped, faint silver-white mist scurried around in the classroom, and some of them drifted dazzlingly towards the back of the podium.Voldemort sat there, occasionally twitching the corners of his mouth mockingly, but most of the time he just waved his hand indifferently, dismissing the shadows indifferently.

"You have to concentrate, Owen," Lucius whispered suddenly, "I know that mind-wandering is a characteristic of your family, but I suggest you persevere-the get out of class will be over soon."

Owen was stunned for a moment, and then suddenly realized that his gaze had quietly drifted to the podium since some time ago.He blinked and cleared his throat nonchalantly, "Uh... ok. Thanks, Lucius."

In order to cover up his ears that had started to heat up and his inexplicable embarrassment, Owen raised his wand in an attempt to cover up, and whispered a few lines of the Patronus Charm symbolically.Suddenly, someone's spell went wrong, and a red light suddenly shot from the fork, and Owen quickly and skillfully dodged it (yes, accidental injuries are always common in this class)——"boom" With a bang, the spell hit a tall chest behind him.

In the next second, something in the closet seemed to be awakened, and it shook violently.

The whole class turned their eyes here, and Lucius and Owen also lowered their wands.

"A Boggart left over from the third grade class." The professor behind the podium waved his hand impatiently, "Please don't let that cabinet make any noise—Lucius."

The good student Lucius answered "Yes, sir" respectfully, and then he waved his wand, and the door of the cabinet bounced open with a bang.

Owen was sure that he heard Lucius sigh helplessly, and the next moment, Mrs. Malfoy with a gloomy expression came out.The dark gray robe and long curly black hair made her look beautiful and noble, but there was no warmth in her eyes.She looked at Lucius, raised her eyebrows slightly, and was about to speak, but Lucius looked terrified that she would speak—not surprising, Mrs. Malfoy is notoriously harsh— So he immediately raised his wand and pointed it at her.

Owen heard him whisper, "Sorry, Mother."

However, for some unknown reason, Mrs. Malfoy suddenly turned her head, a pair of beautifully shaped eyes fixed on Owen closely, and her long eyelashes fluttered.

— Owen was stunned.

Inexplicably, a strange sentence suddenly appeared in his mind, and a headache made him squint his eyes:

—Hey, Liu Di, do you have any candied pineapple?

At the same moment, Lucius, who was holding his wand, was about to say a spell, but——a crisp sound of "snap", and in an instant, the Boggart changed.

A dead snake appeared out of thin air, lying motionless under Owen's feet.

The boggart shifted its target.Owen swallowed, trying to suppress the dark shadows that seldom swayed in his mind recently, and waved his wand stagnantly: "Funny, funny."

With a "snap", the Boggart changed again—but it didn't turn into any particularly funny image. A giant snake suddenly appeared, causing several girls in the class to scream!

Professor Voldemort's big snake Nagini rolled over in front of Owen, the luster on her scales disappeared, and her bright eyes with vertical pupils became lifeless.The whole class was silent, and everyone put down their wands and looked here.Lucius blinked, turned his head silently to glance at the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor who had stood up behind the podium, and then looked at Owen thoughtfully.

Owen stared at everything in front of him in extreme amazement, and couldn't react at all—Merlin, he began to wonder if this Boggart was crazy!

But the misfortunes were not over yet!

That damned Boggart, who seemed to be under the Confusion Charm, transformed again—"snap"!

A man in a black robe was lying on the ground, with slightly curly black hair hanging on his forehead, his eyes were tightly closed, and an ominous gray that symbolized death appeared on his pale and handsome face. Defeated cyan.

——The whole class was in an uproar!

After an unknown amount of time, one of the Gryffindors suddenly laughed "ha", and his friend immediately poked him.The only sudden laughter disappeared immediately, leaving nothing in the silent classroom.

Owen began to have difficulty breathing, and he felt that his eyes were dark, but he said nothing and didn't want to face the Boggart again.Not just because the whole thing was ridiculously absurd, but—he felt a weird grip on his chest, associating death with that person, which he found intolerable!

It is true that the Dark Lord will definitely die...in the next 20 years...but such a thought actually made his heart tremble slightly—why?

Owen didn't think about it, and there was no time for him to think about it.There was a sound of unhurried footsteps behind him, and every light sound seemed to step on Owen's fragile nerves, causing a flash of golden light in front of his eyes like the wings of an elf.

Voldemort walked down from the podium, his face was beyond inscrutable and indescribable.

A living professor and a dead professor were getting closer, separated by Owen Scotch, whose face turned red and white.The classroom was silent, and everyone seemed to be under a body-binding spell.

Voldemort—Tom Riddle stood not three feet behind Owen, pursing his lips and looking at the red-eared student who refused to look back.He didn't have a seizure, as if he was secretly chewing on this absurd scene in class, his black eyes blinked slowly, glowing with a faint red light.

This eccentric Sko—could it really be... that guy?

60 A Vague Probe

Merlin, the accident in this Defense Against the Dark Arts class was not only unbelievably weird, but also disturbingly embarrassing.In the silence, Owen would give everything he had for a Time-Turner, or any hiding place—even if the classroom suddenly split in the middle, and "a hellfire rose up and engulfed him", he would Feel willing.

"Seriously, Scott," said the professor standing behind him, in a low, low voice that could not be heard, "how long are you going to let me lie on the ground?"

If it was in another class, the students must have burst into laughter long ago, but at this moment, the surroundings are still silent.Several Hufflepuff girls almost looked at Owen with pity.

Under such pressure, Owen shook his wand vigorously at the Boggart lying on the ground in despair, and then laughed dryly: "Funny funny."

The mantra couldn't have been more ironic!Owen would rather swallow a pint of undiluted balbo tuber pus than let things take a step in a more comical direction.To his secret relief, the boggart finally exploded reluctantly.Countless tiny clouds of smoke rose up, and a little sunlight leaked through the gaps in the curtains. The smoke mixed with the tiny dust in the light and slowly dissipated.

The get out of class bell rang, but still no one moved.

It wasn't until Voldemort spoke calmly that there was finally a sound in the silent room: "Come to my office, Scott."

Owen, who had just breathed a sigh of relief, became nervous again. He glanced at Voldemort stiffly, and then quickly looked away: "But sir, my next class is Transfiguration—"

"I'll go to McGonagall to explain. You know where my office is, and I'll give you 5 minutes to pack up." This was undoubtedly an undeniable command tone, and Voldemort turned around and strode towards the door of the classroom, "get out of class is over .”

It wasn't until he walked out of the classroom that the students who seemed to have been petrified were finally relieved of the spell.The normal noise in the room soon returned, and the voices of stuffing schoolbags into schoolbags and buzzing voices sounded very familiar and friendly.However, Owen couldn't cheer up, and he stuffed everything in his bag in frustration, turning a deaf ear to the gloating of Brian and the other Gryffindor boys.

In fact, Owen felt that Lucius' kind comfort was the last straw that crushed him.The Slytherin prefect patted him on the shoulder sympathetically: "It was just an accident, Owen, don't take it to heart. Besides—" Lucius paused meaningfully, "I don't think he has you I hate you so much."

Owen gave a self-deprecating short laugh, he didn't believe this statement: "Really?"

"Really." Lucius smiled resolutely, "Look, he didn't even deduct points from our academy because of you."

"..."

Voldemort only gave Owen 5 minutes. Although the office on the third floor was not far from the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, the latter still tried his best to delay until the last second of the time limit before knocking on the door of the office.

There was a lazy "come in" from inside, and Owen closed his eyes hard, then pushed the door open and walked in as if he was dead.

It was still the familiar office.Because there are too many times of confinement recently, Owen knows the layout here like the back of his hand: thick dark green velvet curtains, warm fireplace flames, soft carpets intertwined with silver threads in the same tone as the curtains, and a giant "T" Wooden frames with carved characters and a huge desk - there are all kinds of exquisite and strange ornaments on it.

Teaching assistant Benjamin doesn't seem to be here today.Victor was not there either, and Owen felt rather unaccustomed to the absence of the warm welcome from the little owl.Nagini was curled up on a large cushion in the corner, spitting the message meekly at him - Owen sincerely hoped that Voldemort hadn't told her about the transformation of the Boggart in class just now, it was hard to say that he heard the news of his "death" Will Nagini be so kind to him.

"Okay," said the man in the black robe sitting behind the desk coldly, he waved his wand, and a carved chair appeared in front of the table - very similar to the one in the Slytherin common room , right beside Owen, "Sit down."

Owen looked at the chair in amazement, but he understood that obedience is the first priority when facing this professor, so he blinked quickly and sat down quietly.

"I'm not going to punish you for what happened in class just now," said Voldemort casually, who was sitting across from Owen, "so you don't have to be so reserved."

"Sorry, sir," Owen said cautiously, he carefully considered his words, "I sincerely apologize for the offense just now, but it was indeed an accident, and I didn't mean to—"

"That was an offense, but since you've done it," Voldemort interrupted Owen mercilessly, his thin lips twisted ironically, "then there's nothing more to say."

"..."

"I seem to realize that your confinement isn't working anymore, Sco - it doesn't seem to be any more unpleasant than a weekend at the Slug Club." Voldemort cadenced with his long forefinger Tapping the table lightly, he quietly looked at Owen, who was facing him with his head slightly lowered, and then maliciously dragged out the end, "It's a pity, this was not my intention."

Owen suddenly raised his blue eyes. He looked at the professor behind the desk with a look of reverence and trepidation. In fact, a handful of flames of hope uncontrollably ignited in his heart—the almighty Merlin, I don’t know if this is It doesn't mean that he won't have to come here on weekend nights to be confined in the future...

—However, he soon found out that he was wrong.His understanding of this professor was too superficial, and it was a waste of his previous graduation thesis on the history of magic to study the Dark Lord.

"Of course, weekend confinement is as usual." Satisfied that the students on the opposite side could not hide their frustration and lowered their eyes again, Voldemort raised the corner of his mouth invisibly, "but let's talk about something else now." He continued to tap Touching the table, the rhythmic "click" sound and his deep and calm voice disturbed Owen, "——Did I mention it? I know your father, Owen."

Owen froze invisibly—it was the first time he was directly called by his name by this extremely magnetic voice. Inexplicably, he suddenly felt creepy.

"Well, Sco - an ancient surname from a glorious bloodline, yes, your family has a long history in Essex - although the Sco's have been very vocal about the 'maintaining purity' I've been proposing in recent years The policy doesn't say anything, but I still think this name deserves to be respected, don't I?"

"..."

"say."

Owen tried hard to understand those literal meanings, but in the end he could only utter one sentence dryly: "Thank you for your praise, sir."

"—Excellent. So, I think people in this family should be more careful in their words and deeds," Voldemort suddenly lowered his voice, he no longer maintained the lazy posture of leaning on the back of the chair, but his body Leaning forward, putting his elbows on the table, he fixed his gaze on Owen, "At the same time, be extra careful," he raised the corner of his mouth meaningfully, "be careful that something else is mixed into their pure blood. For example——" He paused.

Owen, who had waited for a long time but did not hear the following, finally raised his head without knowing why, but his heart skipped a beat because of the two deep gazes in front of him.He licked his lips and looked at Voldemort tentatively: "... sir?"

Voldemort stared fixedly at Owen's blue eyes, and suddenly smiled faintly. He finally completed the sentence: "——like a strange soul. I heard that you have changed a lot recently, Owen Sco. "

With a "click", Owen's heart rang an alarm!Did the Dark Lord see it?It looks like he's from decades into the future - but is that possible?Or where did he make a mistake?

Owen touched his nose subconsciously, and replied as calmly as possible: "Yes, thank you for your reminder, sir."

"Things have changed since that ludicrous magical accident, haven't they?" Voldemort asked softly, expressionless on his handsome face, but his pupils seemed to have narrowed—like a staring eye. The snake holding its prey remained calm, but there was an extremely deep light shining in the depths of its eyes, "Some people say you were not like this in the past - sensitive, gloomy, and like to provoke the group of Gryffindors the most, and not much A lot of neuroticism."

Owen's brain seemed to be rusted under that dark gaze, and the nerves there creaked when it was running.office