Harry Potter’s Natural Villain Chapter 283: The Robbery (Part 2)
"Take me to food?" Voldemort's expression turned gloomy for an instant, and he felt unbearably insulted.
The man just waved his pale hand lightly, and an invisible barrier blocked the group of fruits. The fruits stopped in the middle of the air in an unphysical manner, and then fell suddenly, chaotically on the sand. Rolling.
Just when Voldemort was about to turn around and leave, the fruits suddenly bounced restlessly, and a scorching air pierced into the two slits of Voldemort's barely called nose.
A series of explosions were emitted from not far away, and the dazzling light seemed to pierce people's eyes, as if the whole island was shaking with this series of explosions.
"Damn it." Voldemort was almost overwhelmed by the sudden explosion. He waved his wand frantically, against the splashing sand in all directions.
After that was not a long journey, Voldemort had to spend his energy to deal with the strange, endless magical creatures. For a while, strong ants with the size of a fist and the scale of the waves attacked him like an army. For a while, Not far from the sky will fly again a black manic bird, roaring harsh sounds. Charge him tirelessly.
Even if Voldemort didn't care about their threats, they were troubled.
On the black robe, even a few pieces were damaged by the explosion just now.
The gray-headed face is a perfect fit to describe Voldemort at this time.
But now his mood has calmed down instead, letting go of the unreasonable irritability at the time.
Calm thinking is a prerequisite for an extraordinary wizard.
Especially when he is not at his peak yet.
He can't afford to lose.
Voldemort became more cautious. He slowly stepped up the stone steps one after another, cautiously guarding against triggering any trap. Lucius was delaying time for him, entangled Dumbledore, that damn. The old man will come anytime.
It seems that all the traps have been exhausted, and there are no obstacles on this stone steps.
Voldemort dragged his robe and walked step by step to the stone gate made of a whole piece of granite. He attached his slender and pale palms to it, cursing softly.
With a "gala" sound, the Shimen opened, and a decayed smell immediately overflowed.
At this moment, the energetic magical creatures outside and the lifeless cell in between formed a sharp contrast.
Voldemort walked in and walked towards the end without hesitation. The tip of the yew wand glowed faintly, illuminating the way forward.
Some prisoners saw him through the railing, but as if they hadn't seen him, they were stupid and dumb, while others were asleep, as if the dreams brought by sleep could make him escape everything.
This is a sequelae of being tortured by dementors.
Voldemort was not worried about his subordinates. They were the craziest dark wizards. Their spirits might be languished by the dementors, but they would never completely destroy their will.
He wants to find his men first, and he can deal with these potentially useless prisoners later. If they are released, they will definitely make Dumbledore suffer for a long time.
"Who are you? You were arrested too?"
Voldemort continued to go deeper, only to realize that someone had remained conscious and stopped him.
This is a sturdy bald young man with black skin. He doesn't look like an Englishman. He has a strange accent, but he seems to be from Africa.
"Are you not affected?" A cruel light flashed through Voldemort's scarlet eyes. It had been a long time since no one had dared to be so polite to him.
But he still held his temper and asked in a cold tone.
"Oh, I don't know, all I know is that they were like this when I came in here." The man laughed and said, without being aware of being a prisoner, and seemed to be a little happy for the newcomer's entry .
"It's so boring here," the man said. "Are you a newcomer here? Didn't the Auror bet you?" he asked curiously.
"I can send you to experience a great adventure, it must be very interesting."
A green light flashed in the dark corridor.
He is dead.
Voldemort doesn't need an important reason to kill.
Voldemort slowly stepped deeper. The man's words just now seemed to suggest some hints to him, but he still couldn't deduce anything from the information. As for the mind-trapping mind, he didn't want to waste time on it for the time being.
"Antonin Dolohov." A happy smile appeared on Voldemort's pale face, and he muttered to himself that he had found one of his most powerful officers.
The man fell into the cell. He had a long pale, distorted face, and his temperament was a bit close to Voldemort, but his body was big and round, which diminished this feeling.
He should be one of Voldemort's most powerful dark wizards. He once combined with several other Death Eaters to kill Molly Weasley's two brothers Fabian and Gideon Prewitt.
He closed his eyes tightly at this time and seemed to fall asleep.
"Quickly recover!" A cold spell echoed in the cell.
Dolokhov opened his eyes when he heard this.
In those eyes, all the emotions that represent colors have been lost, and some are just endless emptiness, which is heart palpitating. This man seems to have lost his soul.
Voldemort felt his heart twitch, and an emotion called anger spread across his chest.
He gritted his teeth and said bitterly: "Dumbledore!"
Voldemort left the small prison, he quickened his pace and moved deeper.
Suddenly, his withered hand trembled slightly.
He saw a woman sitting on a tattered wooden chair. Her smooth and black hair was now withered together, extending into many branches, which seemed so brittle that it would shatter on touch.
She stared at the man in front of her blankly, as if he was air or some other transparent substance.
Who is she?
Bellatrix Lestrange, one of the three sisters of the Black family.
If it were the usual, she would climb over frantically, even if she still had a little bit of consciousness, shouting his name, and kissing his toes lightly.
The man licked some of his dry lips, his pale face fell into a violent mood, his scarlet eyes were bloodshot, and the blood-like light flashed in that snake's eyes. Voldemort was the most enthusiastic about him. Of admirers use pantheon.
A blank, a blank sheet of paper.
Voldemort's ten pale fingers were twisted together in an instant~IndoMTL.com~ The sound of joints rattling.
"Very good." He muttered to himself, no one knew what kind of emotion he was in.
She is still alive, but she is dead
With a deep sigh, Voldemort flicked his wand lightly, and the weird green light flashed across the cell.
The woman sitting in the seat was hit without the slightest resistance. She leaned back, hit the wall, and slid weakly.
The woman is dead, this time in any sense.
But it might be a relief for her.
"Voldemort will avenge you and make them pay their due price." The man said frantically, as if the entire castle began to tremble with fear because of his anger.
Azkaban.
Slumped.