Fail Demon King

The flames in the fireplace made him hot and dizzy, but when he was trying to think about who the "someone" in "Someone Said" was, Voldemort suddenly spoke.

This time the Dark Lord's tone changed. Although his voice was still so soft, the words were as sharp as a spell shot at Owen's chest: "Who are you?"

Owen blinked quickly, showing a look of confusion: "...Mr.?"

Voldemort looked at him coldly: "Answer me."

"I'm Owen Scotch—"

"Look into my eyes," said Voldemort, as the flames crackled and flickered in the fireplace, and Voldemort's voice was softer, but still clearly drowned out all other sounds in the room, "—to tell the truth."

Thinking, breathing, hot sweat... The orange-green bright fire, the woven carpet and the intricate carvings on the wall-everything that existed in this office seems to be slowly thinning out, they are spinning and spiraling , like the mist that rises from the cauldron in Potions class, and finally disappears completely into nothingness.

Only those deep black eyes were left in front of Owen. He opened his mouth subconsciously, and found that his throat was extremely dry: "...I am Owen Rocks Scotch, sir..."

—The mist suddenly disappeared.

The familiar Defense Against the Dark Arts professor's office is back.

Nagini swam over at some point, she tilted her head slightly, hissed the letter, and looked at Owen quietly.Owen took a deep breath secretly, and he touched his nose again, only to find that the tip of his nose was already covered with a layer of sweat.

The man behind the desk regained his lazy demeanor, even a little sleepy.

"Excellent," he said slowly, waving his hand casually. "That's it for today. Go back, Sco."

As if he had been pardoned, Owen stood up, bowed slightly to the professor respectfully, and then strode towards the door.

"Remember your words, and remember your identity," the deep magnetic voice sounded behind Owen again, making his hair stand on end, "Be careful with your words and deeds—don't let me down."

The door of the office was gently closed from the outside, and as the footsteps got further and further away, Nagini slowly swam over and gently placed her huge head on Voldemort's lap.

The handsome black-haired man gently stroked her forehead, and a mysterious hissing sound enveloped the entire room at some point.

"You think it's similar too, don't you?" he asked Nagini softly, his dark eyes thoughtful, "yet he wasn't lying—the accident with the Oblivion Charm was too coincidental. Did he forget, Or are you trying to hide it?"

Nagini slapped the floor with his tail and let out a sharp hiss.

"—Yeah, why not use more drastic and reliable means?" Tom Riddle twisted the corners of his lips, revealing a weird and shy smile, which didn't match his usual haughty and cold expression, "' Be careful and test', I will not jump to a conclusion until it is sure and reliable-how many years, Nagini, this time, I cannot tolerate another disappointment."

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The author has something to say: I wish you all a happy reading~~~

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61 An empty grandstand

The days are still moving forward so unhurriedly. There are as many accidents in the sixth grade courses as this year. The teachers spare no effort to leave homework like a wave. In this vast ocean, the students almost occasionally Breathing hard is a luxury.

Even so, however, the outlook is not bleak.After December arrived, Owen suddenly discovered that he had neglected a major event this year-he almost missed half of the Quidditch season before Christmas.

"This afternoon is our last match against Gryffindor before Christmas." At the breakfast table on Saturday, Lucius said to Owen, who was flipping through the "Wizard Weekly" just delivered by the owl, "No Did I remind you how many moments you missed this year? By the way, Levins was desperate. He flew very low on purpose every game to get close to the Slytherin stands, and was almost shot by several A kissing tulip thrown by a girl fell off the broom." He paused for a while and sighed, "My brother is a Chaser, but my brother has never been to a game—tsk tsk."

Owen coughed twice and looked towards the west corner of the long table.Levins had just stood up with a group of seventh-grade students, and he waved his fist at Owen far away. The expression that was quite characteristic of the Scorch family did not match his threat at all: "Of course you will come to the game today, right? Owen? It’s too much to miss so many games in a row, you know, my mother asked me to write back to her the day before yesterday, and describe your recent life at school in detail..."

Owen hastily put down the silver spoon in the porridge, and nodded apologetically at Levins: "Of course—of course I will go." He thought for a while, then added awkwardly, "Uh...I think you must Fly well, Levins."

Levins nodded quite satisfied, and he turned to leave.Owen heard him faintly saying to his group of friends: "... my youngest brother Owen... of course - the one who's been in detention in the office of the professor who taught Defense Against the Dark Arts lately...

"..."

Owen's face became ugly, and he froze completely when he was going to get the toast.

"Levins has been so interesting since he was a child." Lucius chuckled with a chuckle, he paused, and said in a slightly lower voice, "But having said that, your relationship with that professor is really complicated. I was taken aback by the Boggart in Defense of Magic class. I didn’t expect that the thing you were most afraid of would be — from the look on your face every time you come back from confinement, I thought you’d been expecting him to come sooner — -Um."

Lucius wisely didn't finish his sentence.Just click to the end, it is disrespectful to speak too clearly.

"I didn't expect him to die early," Owen said angrily. "After all, he is a descendant of Slytherin and the star of magic in the wizarding world. Although I am not a member of your great organization, I don't need to talk to that person." The professor's super-worshippers all over the place are against you, aren't you?"

Unexpectedly, Owen would be so straightforward, Lucius raised his eyes from "Wizard Weekly" and glanced at him with some surprise.After a while, the pages of the magazine were flipped lightly with a "crash", and Lucius smiled nonchalantly: "Come on, Owen, don't be so harsh. You are just relying on the fact that the professor has not been in Hoag for the past two weeks." Watts dares to be so unscrupulous."

"That's right, Lucius," Owen said flatly, and he picked up the "Daily Prophet" that had just been delivered to the table by an owl, "and you are the same. See how well you have been in water recently, even the black magic Your Patronus started puffing up in Defense class."

"Why didn't I find you so mean before? But—yeah," Lucius sighed with a little melancholy, "We really should restrain ourselves, and I guess that one is coming back soon. After all, the teaching assistant has given We took the class for half a month." He closed the "Wizard Weekly", flicked its title page, and said in a drawn-out voice, "That one is absent, and Benjamin is especially absent-minded, which really makes me feel a little boring .”

Owen didn't care about responding to Lucius, his eyes were completely attracted by a piece of news in the newspaper - "Barnold's term of office has expired, and the next minister is pending."

Owen quickly scanned through the densely packed sentences. The report heavily quoted Millicent Barnold's resignation speech, which was full of whitewashing. However, Barnold's solemn expression in the photo made people feel weird. ominous premonition.The voices seem to be completely one-sided, and the protection of the rights and interests of pure-blood wizards has been put on the table.However, other voices are not idle, and there are many subtle ironies in the small entries in other forums.The political situation is not very stable, the two forces are confronting each other, and the situation of intertwined forces seems to be looming.

"Look at this," Lucius said suddenly, and he handed the "Wizard Weekly" to Owen casually. "The magazine is much more relaxed, and it can be adjusted." He gracefully brushed the platinum-blond hair hanging on both sides of his shoulders After listening to it, he casually chuckled, "The newspaper hasn't completely become a mouthpiece, and the editor-in-chief is still judging the situation."

Owen shrugged, flipping backwards was nothing more than the chatter and noise, heeded Lucius' advice and tossed the newspaper aside.Of course, he was not the only one in the auditorium who subscribed to the Daily Prophet, but everyone's reactions were not the same.The atmosphere at the Gryffindor long table was particularly dignified. For them, the newspapers and magazines at breakfast were no entertainment at all, and the few senior boys who stood up and left the long table in a hurry seemed to be facing an enemy.

Owen looked over there, meeting Brian's eyes who were looking towards the Slytherin table.Owen nodded slightly to him, then moved his eyes away - there is no doubt that if he looked a little longer, a flame would burst into flames where their eyes met.

"I think we're going to have a tough fight this afternoon, Lucius," Owen said, half-seriously, half-jokingly. "Good luck—we didn't win by luck, of course."

"That's right, thank you." Lucius met Gryffindor's burning gaze indifferently, and curled his lips, "You know, Owen, sometimes I really don't understand Gryffindor A lot. You can't talk to them at all, because there is a danger of being knocked against the wall by someone who suddenly jumps up. Maybe there is a reason for our mutual dislike, and this dislike must come from nature."

On this gloomy Saturday afternoon, the Quidditch match between Gryffindor and Slytherin began.The strong wind was blowing so hard that people could barely open their eyes, and the ball column towering in the air swayed from side to side in the howling wind.The pine and fir trees were almost snapped down the middle, making a loud rustling sound.Red and green shadows flew through the air, and the hair and robes of the players were blown messy.

Owen doesn't play Quidditch, but it can't be said that he isn't an expert at watching the sport.It's no wonder that very few wizards don't like this sport that is popular in the wizarding world.

The strong wind brought a gloomy dark cloud, but the stadium was still full of cheers. The two main color decorations, red and green, stood against each other, facing each other on both sides of the spectator seats.

The game commentator was a Ravenclaw boy, his voice completely lost in the howling wind.The only thing that could be vaguely heard was the score: "... Gryffindor 120 to... ten leads..."

Cady Coster, who was sitting next to Owen—a light-haired boy in the sixth grade—stands up abruptly: "—Ten? Don't make fun of Merlin! How is this possible?!"

The mistake was soon corrected, and the score now stands at 120-110, with the commentator apologetically explaining that the wind was so strong that he choked back his voice.Immediately there was a booing of dissatisfaction from the Slytherin spectators.

"Currently, the score is very serious," Coster sat down, turned his head to Owen with excitement, "seriously, Owen, what do you think the odds are?"

"It's hard to say." Owen clenched his fists tightly and stared at the field without blinking. A green shadow just passed quickly in front of them, "Gryffindor and us are evenly matched. Their players are quite good, Look at that little Seeker . . . he's got such quick reflexes—oh!"

—a little golden flash, and the Gryffindor Seeker swooped down!Owen and Coster stood up together, and there was a loud commotion in the stands, and the bright ribbons in the golden-red ocean opposite seemed to be broken by the Gryffindors!

A Bludger whizzed by, the brilliant Seeker flashed sharply - and meanwhile Levins scored! ——In such an instant, the Golden Snitch disappeared.

Sighs of disappointment and regret came from the opposite stand, Owen heaved a sigh of relief, and sat back down with Coster.

"...a second-year—" Coster gasped, "Gryffindor's new Seeker. Frankly, he's a really good flyer." He paused, then raised his jaw and added , "But our Slytherins are better."

—The Slytherin Seeker is Lucius.

In all fairness, Owen wasn't surprised at all that Lucius was flying so well. Malfoy probably had Seeker elements in his pedigree.Those shiny Quidditch Cups in Slytherin could not have been done without Abraxas Malfoy, and now it was Lucius' turn to uphold the honor.

Another green shadow whizzed by in front of the stands, and the wind blew the people on the broom askew. Owen shouted loudly to the shadow: "Good job! Levins!"

His brother gave him a big, proud smile over his shoulder, and narrowly missed a Bludger that was coming at him.

What ensued was a heated discussion between Irving and Coster over the broomsticks used for the race.

Coster insists that this is a great development for the flying career: "...compared to the old Thunder series, the Comet definitely has a more advanced acceleration system. You see, the sudden acceleration of the players has become significantly more sensitive."

"But I'm skeptical about its balance and braking system," Owen said, frowning, "especially in this special weather—" He paused, "but it's good enough." Take the comet It's not fair to compare it to the broomsticks of his day - the Slytherins had already used Firebolts back then.

Another burst of cheers, Gryffindor scored.

Owen and Coster glanced at each other, and the latter obviously cursed in a low voice.After the wave of fiery cheers and Slytherin hisses from the opposite stand passed, Coster opened his mouth, about to say something, when he stopped short.Owen couldn't help but turn his head suspiciously at that weird expression, and followed Coster's gaze——

Then he also froze.

A tall, thin, dark-haired man strolled up to the stands, his black robe flapping in the wind, the black cloak clinging to his side, making him look even more slender.The cheering died down as he passed, and the Slytherins couldn't help but make way for him.

The Defense Against the Dark Arts professor who disappeared for two weeks did not go to the teacher's stand, but came here.He raised his cold black eyes and faced Owen who was staring down blankly.

Merlin!Owen's heartbeat stopped for a moment, and he didn't know if it was because of the sudden shock or some other reason—that person is back!

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The author has something to say: I wish you all a happy reading~~~

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62 A Chaotic Quidditch

— Voldemort is back.After being away from school for two months, only Merlin knew why he suddenly appeared in today's Quidditch match.

The man in the black robe must have cast some spell—like a dementor sucks happiness, he sucked the noise out of the stands.I don't know why, suddenly there was a vacant seat around, and Coster had disappeared long ago. After realizing it, Owen subconsciously stood up, and wanted to turn his head and run away.

However, a cold voice nailed him there: "Where are you going?"

Owen had just stood up halfway, and now maintained an awkward posture, leaning forward stiffly.

"Sit down," Voldemort walked to the seat behind Owen and sat down, "You are blocking the view of the audience behind you."

——But in fact, after excluding him, there are no other audiences.

Without the professor repeating it a second time, Owen touched his nose and sat back dejectedly.

The game is still going on, and the strong wind is still howling. It is true that this is not a good day for Quidditch games, but the weather can't affect the warm atmosphere on the field.

But now, everything is subtly different.

Voldemort sat obliquely behind without saying a word-this made Owen sit on pins and needles, and even the fierce pursuit of the score on the field seemed to become dull.

Slytherin scored again, and Owen clapped mechanically numbly, while the cheers of other students seemed to come from far away.Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of a miraculously vacant circle of seats around him and the Dark Lord in the crowded stands.

In fact, there were quite a few students who looked this way fanatically - just think about how popular that professor is in Slytherin.A group of girls were completely out of the arena, and there were a few boys whispering beside them, as if they were eager to go to the seat next to Owen and sit down.

However, no one really came over from the beginning to the end.Everyone flinched before those cold black eyes, only Owen sat there stiffly, numb and dejected, motionless.

Owen secretly looked at the man in black robe sitting obliquely behind him from the corner of his eye—Voldemort was sitting there in a straight posture, the high collar of the black robe and the two silver buttons buttoned meticulously on it made him look exactly the same as him. As grim as usual.But probably because of the strong wind blowing his black hair, he seemed a little dusty.Owen didn't dare to look sideways too much, so he wasn't sure whether that indifferent face was paler than before, and whether the shadow under the eye sockets was the reflection of eyelashes or a light blue.

Unfortunately, just when Owen was about to look away calmly, a deep voice came from behind him.

"You've been looking at me, and at the same time trying to avoid being detected," said Voldemort in a flat voice, but his ending was drawn out slowly, "I assume from this that you have something to say to me. —Am I right, Scoo?"

"..."

"say."

"Sorry, professor, I was just thinking—" Owen cleared his throat dryly, and he racked his brains to force out a sentence, "The student stands are too crowded, why...don't you go to the teacher's bench... ..."

"I can sit where I like. That's fine," Voldemort said with a faint glance at the empty seats around him. "Shut up and watch your game in peace."

"..."

The competition became more intense.Dark clouds gathered thickly above his head, and Irving had to keep brushing away the messy hair that was blocking his eyes, so that he could squint his eyes to see the situation on the court.A few gaunt players teetered on broomsticks, their uniforms bulging into sails.

The pressure from diagonally behind seemed to be getting weaker and weaker, and the Dark Lord sat there quietly without saying a word.That man was originally a man with a strong sense of presence, but now he seems to be working hard to take back all the cold pressure that spread out from him.It has to be said that he was successful at it - as he was with everything else.

After a while, Owen's attention was finally drawn back to the schedule.When Lucius swooped down to the stands from a high altitude, Owen, who had been nailed to the seat and sat stiffly for a long time, stood up together with all the students who had discovered the trace of the Golden Snitch, and rushed towards the railing excitedly.His brown hair was disheveled by the wind, and Coster suddenly appeared next to him at some point. They almost leaned half of their bodies out of the stands, and began to wave their fists and shout loudly.

— Owen completely forgot who was sitting behind him.

Lucius was getting closer and closer to the auditorium, and the dive was an extremely dangerous and effective action—the golden snitch's wings swept over Owen's eyes, and he flew along the railing very quickly to the side, causing several girls to move in unison. scream.Victory was so close, and then all of a sudden - the skinny Gryffindor Seeker burst out of the slant!He and Lucius jumped together, and two shadows, one red and one green, chased towards the Snitch at the same time——

"Whoosh"!A Bludger separated them.

There was an irrepressible sigh of disappointment from the stands.Once again, the key ball that determines the outcome of the game is lost.

The black-haired Gryffindor Seeker nimbly raised his broom, turned around and flew towards the west of the field.His decision was wise, as several of the Slytherins were about to throw a few jinxes at him.

Owen had to grab Coster's arm to warn him to be restrained. The angry Coster cursed in a low voice: "...Come on, Owen, you can't bring the "Code" to the field! If that little man dares to fly again Come here, even in front of the teacher's seat opposite, I will give him a snotty curse...Hey! Lucius!" He waved at the green figure still hovering above the stands, amidst a burst of cheers Shouted, "Show 'em what a golfer is - and not a big annoying fly flying around!"

"Don't listen to his Lucius," Owen said helplessly, he looked up at the sky with some worry, "—be careful of the strong wind!"

Lucius pursed his lips and nodded. At this moment, he still didn't forget to straighten out his long platinum blonde hair that was blown by the wind. It was a miracle for Merlin.However, when he glanced behind Owen, Lucius' eyes widened slightly in obvious surprise. He swayed on the broom—of course, it may be due to the strong wind—and then, amidst the screams in the stands, , quickly flew to the field.

Coster was called away by a few boys not far away, probably to discuss how to get revenge on that Gryffindor Seeker.Owen sat down and sat back. The match had lasted for a long time. He tightened his scarf tightly, feeling that the tip of his nose was about to be frozen off.

"Do you really think this thing is beautiful?" Someone snorted behind Owen, "I thought you were stupid to the limit."

Owen's eyes were fixed on Lucius in the distance, he didn't even think about it, he turned his head subconsciously, and blurted out a sentence: "Then why are you still watching—" Owen paused, he suddenly realized that he was Talking to someone, he was tongue-tied for two seconds, and then closed his mouth in extreme embarrassment.

Voldemort looked at Owen leisurely: "Finish."

Owen looked at his face, opened his mouth, and finally braced himself to say it again: "...then why do you still come to the game, professor."

"I think I should come and see you, Mr. Scott," Voldemort gave a short, malicious laugh, his voice soft but still clearly over the noise of the field and the whistling wind, "to prevent You messed up again like in my class, and all the students in our academy fell off the broom that was not very secure."

"..."

——No one expected that this match would end so abruptly.

The sky was getting dark, and the figures flying around on the field became more and more blurred.A muffled thunder sounded faintly in the distant sky, and Owen, like most people in the stands, began to worry secretly: If he couldn't catch the Golden Snitch again, the game might need to be suspended.The players on the field were also exhausted, and even riding the comet, the latest broomstick, was not a comfortable thing to fly for a long time, and they swayed even more in the high wind.

However—suddenly, there was no long-distance dive and no sudden pull—two shadows rushed towards the same direction, one left and one right, and collided violently in mid-air near the north stand!In an instant, the Gryffindors sitting there burst into a loud noise!

The Ravenclaw commentator's hoarse voice came intermittently, but it sounded so broken amidst the din: "... caught... thanks Merlin... the game is over..."

Several boys on the Slytherin side jumped up.Everyone was asking each other loudly, cluelessly: "—what the hell happened? For Merlin's sake—who won?"

There began to be shattered snowflakes floating down, mixed with tiny raindrops.The Quidditch pitch at Hogwarts soon became a vast expanse of whiteness, and in the night, only the towering fifty-foot golden ball post and the golden-red decoration of Gryffindor on the opposite stand stood out.

And in the stands over there, the Gryffindor and Slytherin teams were in disarray.Owen leaned forward in a daze to look over there, and there were not a few Slytherin students who couldn't sit still like him.Another gust of cold wind blew by, he shivered, and couldn't help but sneezed.A handkerchief was handed over obliquely from behind, as if conjured out of thin air, Owen took it subconsciously, and said naturally, "Thank you, Tom—"

In just a split second, Owen, who had reacted, froze again.

Fortunately, Coster's voice sounded immediately, and he was about to run down the stands in a hurry, and when he passed by Owen, he said eagerly: "...It seems that there is a fight, look, Mag ran over there... Owen, we Do you want to go and see the - er... professor?"

Voldemort stood up.He shook his black cloak, and the fine snowflakes on it immediately disappeared without a trace. He looked down at Owen, and his voice was colder than the weather tonight: "Where are you going?"

Coster visibly trembled, he opened his mouth, but didn't say a word.Owen immediately offered to help tactfully: "We want to see Lucius, sir, Coster and I are very worried—"

"Worrying about him is worse than worrying about yourself," Voldemort said with a straight face, twisting his lips slightly, "I can see that you have spent the past two weeks at a leisurely pace, and you haven't copied the "Rules" for a long time, have you?"

"gentlemen--"

"Unfortunately, Sco, the good times are over." The head of Slytherin turned and strode down the grandstand, the cloak behind him like a huge black wing spreading, "Weekend, Defense Against the Dark Arts office - don't Forget about the confinement you haven't finished yet."

"..."

Voldemort strode towards the opposite stand, and the tall, thin, black figure drifted away.

Standing on the stands, Owen blinked quickly. He faintly felt pain in his temples again, and the handkerchief in his hand was like a nettle leaf pricking his palm.He secretly rejoiced that the professor probably didn't hear the words he just blurted out inadvertently and strangely——

Merlin, is he really that lucky?

"...You can still speak in front of him," Coster said gratefully and admiringly on the way back to the castle, "Thanks to you, Owen. You don't know how much I admire that professor, if you know He will be teaching this course this year, and I had to get an 'Outstanding' in the OWLs exam last year... Anyway - he suddenly looked at me, but I couldn't say a word, it was really embarrassing."

Owen smiled helplessly at him.

But Coster was also slightly frustrated: "But - oh, great, Merlin - now the big man must think I'm stupid and not at all like a Slytherin."

"No, Coster, don't worry." Owen patted him on the shoulder gloomily, "Although I don't know why, I have a very obvious feeling-I think this must be a good comfort to you: in In his eyes, I am the biggest fool in our academy."

63 An amiable teaching assistant

That night, Owen met Lucius who came back late in the dormitory, and the mystery of the Quidditch outcome was finally solved.

"Of course we won." Lucius said dismissively, but the two slight bruises on his brows and the corners of his lips still made his face very gloomy. He reached out and touched his cheekbones, displeased Narrowing his eyes, "I have to say, our defeated opponents are really lacking in manners - as I said earlier, there is no way to talk to them properly."

"...so," Owen's voice came from the drawn four-poster bed, "who jumped at you and knocked you against the wall?"

"Carney—he's not having a good time either," Lucius snorted and said sarcastically, "he even had to go to the school hospital to see Madam Pomfrey before we were all sent to clean up the abandoned classrooms." the abscess on his face."

"I just want to ask one more question: How is Levins?"

"It's not bad, it's just that he was sent to wipe the trophy—you finally remembered him. He was the fastest runner when our two teams scuffled," Lucius gritted his teeth slightly, "but I still have to thank him. If he hadn't stood outside the fray and cast a couple of very effective jinxes on Blair with precision, we'd have lost all face. You know, no wizard is good at hand-to-hand combat except Gryffindor... yep— —”

"how?"

Lucius pondered for a while, then glanced at Owen's four-poster bed with a strange expression: "Are you going to continue the confinement starting tomorrow?"

With a sound of "shua", the curtain was pulled open.Owen showed a gloomy face: "How do you know?"

Lucius shrugged nonchalantly: "Guess."

"Okay." Owen gave Lucius a meaningful look, and retracted the curtain again, "Just as if I believed in your Malfoy's wisdom."

It's hard to say if it's because of self-defeating. In short, Irving is now planning to relax and welcome everything.Only then did he vaguely remember that the Dark Lord seemed to be a subject of his dissertation research that he was very interested in. Since it is rare to have these opportunities to get in touch with legendary figures up close, and the history is very different from what he has learned, then——

For Merlin's sake, such self-consolation was useless.Owen had to admit that he was still very depressed.

Until the next morning, the atmosphere in the auditorium was still very gloomy.

The aftereffects of the Quidditch match hadn't passed, and the people on the two long tables of Slytherin and Gryffindor stared at each other, as if they wanted to bite each other a few bites with toast and milk before swallowing. of.Fortunately, it was not too early when Owen and Lucius came to the dining table, and the people on the four long tables had almost left.

"Come on, Owen, cheer up," Lucius pulled out the chair and sat down, the bruises on his face faded, but Merlin knew why he didn't completely remove them, "You know how many people can't wait Locked up in the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor's office? I'll bet at least half of our house is madly jealous of you."

Owen squinted his eyes in disbelief. He glanced warily at the teacher's table, and then quickly looked away: "I never knew that Slytherin's hobbies were so unique. Let's be honest, Lucius, I would like to Swap solitary confinement for a quiet and free Sunday night—if anyone wants to. I don't think the professor is that attractive," he muttered reluctantly under his breath, "of course I don't deny that he's very attractive. ——It’s just that Merlin is on top, I don’t think it’s necessary to exaggerate everything.”

"Exaggeration? What nonsense are you talking about? Oh——" Lucius raised his eyebrows and looked at Owen, then he knocked on the plate, and there were grilled sausages and mushroom beans in an instant, "I remembered, it was all that forgetting You forgot all about the curse, didn't you? Hurry up and order two issues of "Magical People", Owen—Professor Voldemort has had countless fanatical followers in recent years, countless handsome wizards and beautiful witches Desire to give everything for him, including themselves - some of whom are of Veela blood - and there have been daredevils who have tried love potions. If possible, I think those crazy people would not even hesitate to Use the Imperius Curse."

Owen suddenly choked on a mouthful of Yorkshire pudding. He frantically poured himself a few mouthfuls of pumpkin juice, and struggled to make a sound: "Enchanted...love potion? So...has anyone succeeded?"

——In fact, he himself