bookbashuk Chapter 260 Arrival at Tom's Old House! Voldemort, you wouldn't even call me Mr. Lamp!
Chapter 260 Arrival at Tom's Old House! Voldemort, you wouldn't even call me Mr. Lamp!
Chapter 261 Arrival at Tom's Old House! Voldemort, you won't even call me Mr. Lamp! (Seeking monthly votes!)
Before leaving school.
Professor Lu Ping presented a belated gift of thanks.
It was a handmade amulet.
A beautifully carved wolf head made of white mineral stone.
Its eyes were a deep blue, gleaming brightly in the sunlight.
On it, you can also see fine magic patterns.
It exudes an aura of protection and stability.
"It's made from atomized moonstone."
Lupin's smile betrayed a hint of nervousness.
"I engraved a spell on it, which can trigger a protective barrier in times of crisis."
"Well, it might not be as exquisite as those sold in stores, but the magic's effect will definitely not be inferior..."
Lu Ping nervously twisted his hands.
Fearing that this "poor" gift would displease Ethan.
but.
Clearly, he was overthinking it.
Ethan stroked the wolf head pendant, which was carved stroke by stroke.
You can feel that unique protective magic.
The world of magic is wondrous.
Although many of these things can be bought with money.
But just like Harry's mother's "magic of love".
Sincerity can always exert a greater power.
"I really like this gift, Professor Lupin."
Ethan grasped the pendant, looked up, and smiled.
I felt a warm sensation spreading through my body under the sunlight.
"Making it yourself is better than buying it. I appreciate your respect."
Upon hearing this...
Lu Ping breathed a long sigh of relief, feeling much more at ease.
Then, he chuckled again.
What respect... You're such a precocious child.
And when I was facing this child who was about ten years old, I actually felt genuinely nervous.
The future is immeasurable.
Ethan patted Lupin on the shoulder and said solemnly:
"I know you won't be continuing as the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor next semester."
"Because some parents and board members still cannot accept your identity as a 'former werewolf'."
Lupin's expression dimmed slightly.
If he could, he would so much like to continue teaching and accompany Harry as he grows up.
Ethan: "This just proves that our revolution has not yet succeeded!"
Ethan clenched his fists, his eyes blazing with intense fire!
"This corrupt magical world needs a good wake-up call."
Professor Lu Ping's smile froze.
Then, Ethan abruptly turned his head.
She looked at him with a gentle gaze that sent chills down his spine.
Say:
"And you, my friend, will continue to gather werewolves and join our glorious Beacon Society."
"Your efforts will not be in vain. Our great cause will sweep the world, and your great name will be sung by posterity."
Lupin fell silent.
He suddenly had an urge to adopt a pseudonym and disguise his identity.
Your intentions are good, but it's best not to spread the word yet.
He feared it would implicate three generations of his family.
Summer vacation has started.
Ethan then plunged headfirst into the art studio.
Filled with passion, he painted without stopping for a moment.
Reference books and discarded drafts gradually piled up around me like a small mountain.
Waves of magical energy rippled out from the canvas.
Let the extraordinary phenomena of nature occur.
The outline of a dark green octopus emerged from the clouds.
Although it is not a Dark Magic Mark.
But it's not as good as the Black Magic Mark.
Time flies by.
Soon, it was the second half of August.
"Phew, I've finally finished drawing them all."
Ethan breathed a sigh of relief.
On hands, body, and face.
They were all stained with paint, flowing down like colorful blood.
Ethan's fingers caressed the painting with a secret tenderness.
Fingertips brushed against strands of black hair.
A sharp, screeching sound, like the scraping of glass, faintly echoed in the air.
The twisted and turned bones made a cracking sound.
Art does not pursue power, but beauty.
The true essence of art is to make all viewers laugh from the bottom of their hearts.
Even Voldemort, Ethan takes seriously.
He was given great importance.
"These few paintings will suffice for now."
Ethan said softly.
With a raised hand, the canvas transformed into a rectangular card the size of a palm, which he then collected into his hand.
I took a sip of the anti-aging serum and felt my vision rise.
Through the window, Ethan gazed into the distance.
"—Voldemort's hometown, Little Hangleton."
"Set off!"
Little Hangleton.
This is a relatively underdeveloped village.
Centered around the town's tavern, the residents all knew each other and gossiped about everyday matters.
And today.
Suddenly, an "uninvited guest" arrived in the entire village.
He was tall and slender with long legs.
He was dressed in a well-tailored black suit, a gray vest, and a dark blue tie.
Holding a gold-plated cane, the villagers couldn't take their eyes off it because of its gleaming golden handle.
His high, straight nose, tender cobalt blue eyes, and handsome, fair face instantly solidified the image of the girl's dream lover.
But he hesitated, not daring to approach and speak.
From those shiny leather boots to her impeccably styled black curly hair.
This man has absolutely nothing to do with this backward village.
Until the man magically produced a ten-pound note.
The villagers gasped for breath.
The wariness in their eyes was replaced by greed.
He gazed intently at the pure and noble "Miss Nightingale" on the paper.
"I want to know everything about Riddle Manor. Can anyone tell me?"
then.
Ethan received secret information that even Riddle himself probably didn't know.
The Riddle family of three, who lived on the hillside, were brutally murdered more than fifty years ago in the summer.
Not a drop of blood, not a trace of poisoning, just like a healthy living person—except that he was no longer breathing.
He was wearing leopard-print briefs when he died, and they were about a cough. Stop, stop.
"The prime suspect is their gardener from back then! Frank Bryce, the only one who had the key!"
"Yes, he was a veteran; he'd always have some tricks up his sleeve!"
"Oh my, he's so fierce, I don't even dare to look him in the eye—Sir, you'd better stay far away from him too."
The villagers started talking all at once.
In fact, Ethan knew.
The real killer wasn't the Muggle gardener, but Tom Riddle.
Upon discovering that his father was not a noble wizard, Tom Jr. was enraged and killed someone, creating a Horcrux in the process.
Get enough information.
Ethan nodded slightly.
He casually handed the Muggle banknotes to the nearest villager.
Then he turned and walked toward Riddle House, ignoring the villagers arguing behind him.
We arrived at the huge, dilapidated mansion.
Ethan saw the old gardener still weeding one by one.
Hearing the noise, he angrily looked up, thinking it was those kids who thought he was the murderer and came to cause trouble again.
However, a gentleman was seen instead.
I don't know why.
Perhaps it came from the intuition gained from fighting on the battlefield.
Frank's body tensed instantly, and he gripped the hoe tightly.
This person is dangerous.
"What do you want to do?! This is private property!"
However, before he could finish speaking...
A voice, seemingly imbued with magic, rang out from the man's mouth:
"Go back to your home, and no matter what you hear, don't come to Riddle Manor again—"
"Clatter".
The hoe fell to the ground.
Frank's eyes were vacant.
With stiff steps, he walked home without looking back.
Ethan watched the old man's departing figure and murmured:
"Phew, everything's all ready now."
"We're just waiting for Voldemort to arrive."
Ethan raised his hand and pressed the pure white mask against his face.
In the dead of night, all was quiet.
A loud bang suddenly rang out in front of the Riddle Mansion.
Barty Crouch Jr., dressed in black, was hidden in the night.
His eyes darted around, and he made excited hissing sounds.
A hoarse voice rang out from within his arms:
Ah, I'm back in this place again. How nostalgic!
The cloak billowed out, revealing a horrifying body that resembled a withered infant!
"I severed all ties here, and now, my career will start anew from here!"
Little Barty trembled with excitement, nodding frantically, his eyes filled with undisguised fervent worship.
Lord Dark Lord needs a safe place to rest.
So he quickly picked up Voldemort and went into the abandoned mansion.
The giant snake slowly slithered past him.
Follow the signs to the second-floor study.
A putrid, musty smell wafted over.
The room was dimly lit, with faint moonlight streaming in through the window and falling onto the desk.
Voldemort: "Put me on the sofa and light the fireplace to get Nagini's venom—my good boy..."
"Yes, Lord Dark Lord!"
Little Barty was incredibly excited.
He was the first to come looking for the Dark Lord!
He is the Dark Lord's most loyal servant!
In this secluded location, unknown to anyone, the Dark Lord can once again embark on his great undertaking.
"call!"
The fireplace is lit.
It illuminated his face, illuminated Voldemort's gaunt body, and reflected glitter on Nagini's scales.
It also illuminated the area.
The third person inside the house.
"Good evening, little Tom. You're a bit late."
The room fell into an instant silence.
Behind that desk bathed in moonlight.
The seat slowly rotated.
His tall, slender figure was revealed.
He was wearing a suit and a strange, pure white mask on his face.
He casually crossed one leg, as if he were the owner of the house.
In his hand, he casually stroked a kitten that was rolling around and acting cute.
When did you get there?!
It was like a bucket of ice water being poured over one's head.
Little Barty's blood almost froze in an instant!
He stared blankly at the figure, his whole body stiff.
He had just walked right past that person without noticing!
Time seemed to stand still.
Until the fireplace crackled with a "pop".
Voldemort roared, "Kill him!!"
Little Barty snapped back to reality, abruptly raised his wand, and shouted at the top of his lungs:
"Avada Kedavra!!!"
A beam of green light shot out!
however.
A flash of silver light appeared.
That unforgivable curse, which was absolutely unstoppable, shattered with a "clang" as if it had hit something hard!
How...how is this possible?!
Little Barty's eyes widened instantly, staring in disbelief at the unharmed man.
There wasn't even a spell recited.
"Your hospitality is so warm and welcoming, I'm truly flattered."
Behind the mask, Ethan slowly grinned.
Looking at the two shocked and horrified people, he said, word by word:
"Let me introduce myself. My name is [Lamp], you can call me ———"
"Mr. Lamp"