Chapter 402: Choice

Voldemort moved into the Malfoy Manor, and randomly selected an unlucky werewolf.
Although from the figure, the two have a clear gap.
But it was not a big problem with Voldemort. It was as easy as mentioning a chick. It grabbed the werewolf, and the werewolf dared not have the slightest resistance.
Soon, the figure of the two gradually returned to nothingness, and disappeared in a blink of an eye.
Suddenly appeared on a rocky beach thousands of miles away, where the smell of the salty and wet sea was floating, and the waves washed the dark reefs and white foam.
The werewolf stood shivering behind him, his muscular body trembling.
His low IQ can't guess what will happen, but the biological instinct has the upper hand, and some terrible things may happen next.
Bare and desolate everywhere, except for the vast sea and rocks, there was no tree, no grass and no beach.
Many uneven grooves in the rock that can be used for stepping on the foot lead to the giant pebbles below the cliff, half exposed from the sea. Climbing down from here is very dangerous.
Once again the illusion shifted, Voldemort and the werewolf came in front of a stone door, waved their wands lightly, and the stone door was shattered.
Then a closed cave wall blocked the eyes of Voldemort and the werewolf.
His magic is so cruel and impersonal that he cannot escape even if he comes.
The distant gravel turned into a stone blade, and suddenly flashed, leaving a thick blade on the werewolf's leg, and the hot blood sprayed on the stone plate suddenly.
The werewolf looked at his wound in horror, and he should have healed at this time, as if he had been cursed.
He stretched out his claws, asking for mercy, and then saw the blood-soaked stone wall begin to move gradually.
A boat floated from the black lake, and Voldemort waved his wand impetuously. The speed of the boat was getting faster and faster.
"Get on the boat." Voldemort kicked the already weak werewolf.
They got on the boat.
The boat was going crazy. If there was a Muggle, you might think that you saw an assault boat, and the green wave seemed to finally become bigger and brighter. After a few minutes, the boat gently hit Something stopped.
They came to a smooth rocky island in the middle of the lake.
A large flat black slate, empty above it, only had a light source emitting that green light. Looking closer now, the green light is much brighter.
Voldemort dragged the poor werewolf straight away.
Inside the stone basin. A pot of emerald green liquid filled with a gleaming phosphorescence.
Voldemort turned out a wide-mouthed cup, filled with this terrible liquid, and poured it directly into the werewolf's mouth.
The werewolf fainted when swallowing the first bite, then woke up again by Voldemort, and then alternated consciously and consciously repeatedly.
The liquid level gradually sinks, and a gold pendant box is coiled under the stone basin.
"Still." Voldemort's heart could not help but relieved, but suddenly shrank.
Souls cannot perceive each other, but that is after a certain distance.
Under such a short distance. There is no trace.
Nagini also resonated when he was by his side, because the snake had a piece of his soul on it.
The pendant box in the pool flew into Voldemort's hands with a whine.
Almost instantly. His expression became extremely furious.
This pendant box lacks the complicated patterns unique to his ancient family, without the mark of the S that symbolizes the beginning of Slytherin, and the inferior forgery.
In the box, a piece of paper was placed solitary.
It says:
To the Dark Lord
I was dead before you read this but I want you to know that I discovered your secret.
I stole the real Horcrux and intend to destroy it as soon as possible.
I am willing to die, because you meet a mortal who is just a flesh and blood when you hit an opponent. .
.B.
Voldemort's eyes were extremely hyperemic, and his angry emotions were surging wildly.
.B?
Regulus?
He only needs a slight association to know the answer.
This is too obvious.
The Black family betrayed him and even destroyed his Horcrux.
Voldemort walked out of the cave with a greasy expression, and threw the werewolf as a key on the desert island, letting himself die, and then phantom moved to the office of the Prophet Daily.
Lucius tasted leisurely afternoon tea at the newspaper office, leaning back on his chair, and appeared very leisurely.
But the severe pain from his left arm made him suddenly startled. He saw the Dark Lord appear in front of him.
"Lucius..." Voldemort was playing with his wand, bloodshot eyes indicating that he was in a bad mood.
"I ask you, where is my diary, I have left it to you for safekeeping."
Lucius' face suddenly became stiff.
"Lord, master, there is a time when the Ministry of Magic wants to search for some items..." Lucius explained stutteringly, changing his calm manners before.
"That means, what I told you is missing?"
"Killing Curse!"
Lucius's hair was standing upright, but he didn't dare to raise his wand to resist, closed his eyes like giving up, and killed by pulling his neck
The green light smashed the vase on the back of him, and the porcelain splashed and hit Lucius, but he dared not resist.
He didn't know that it was something so important to the Dark Lord.
"Anger affects judgment, and I am short of people now, Lucius, but I hope you know that your life was picked up."
Cold sweat slid down Lucius's thin chin, dripping onto the table in front of him, soaking up the latest issue of the newspaper.
"Master..." Lucius shuddered and gave up his place.
Voldemort walked over casually, sat down slowly, and slipped his fingertips gently on the table.
His brain is thinking fast.
The diary and ring were missing, the gold cup was confirmed to be burnt, and the Slytherin pendant box was dropped.
Not sure is the crown hidden in Hogwarts.
The only certainty is Nagini.
Voldemort regretted his arrogance for the first time.
But even with such a little hope, he still has to confirm.
Hogwarts was also delineated by him.
The initiation of the war will be accelerated.
Just when he was deep in thought, with a crunch, the glass window not far away in front of him suddenly burst and shattered, and a roll of sheepskin was rolled into a sharp blade, which was inserted into his side. On the wall, the tail quivered non-stop.
Voldemort's eyes were cold and he was about to tear it off the wall.
This sheepskin roll suddenly broke free, spread out in the air, and began to burn. The blue flame suddenly jumped into the air, gradually becoming a text, and shining in the air while illuminating the whole room. .
"I hope this news will be published by the Daily Prophet." This line of text flashed away.
"Dark Lord, I would rather call you Voldemort than this name."
"They fear you, but I don't feel it."
"You interfered with a great duel, my revenge."
"The fruits of revenge must be picked by hand."
"I know, you will be very strange."
"Defeat me, you will get everything you want to know."
"However, in view of your bad personality and a sneak attack, I decided to decide the location of the duel."
The flame in the air suddenly shook, showing a few letters, and then emerged-
"Hogwarts."
"Hogwarts?" Voldemort showed an elusive look.
I have to say that coincidence is very interesting.
I wanted to use the power of public opinion to declare war, but it almost became a face-to-face declaration of war.
In the plan, there will always be some strange and unpredictable accidents.
The outraged anger suddenly calmed down~EbookFREE.me~According to the marginal effect of psychology, the good news is suitable to be separated, and the bad news is suitable to be spoken together. Obviously Voldemort is the latter.
The "bad news" that came one after another made him realize the reality.
Blind venting and anger only interfere with judgment.
Whether it was Ravenclaw’s crown, Grindelwald’s appointment, or the significance of Hogwarts’ own existence, the Dark Lord made a decision.
More importantly, the shame of his back defeat must be personally washed-the savior is also at Hogwarts.
Suddenly there were many reasons that could not be refused.
The flame in front of him was suddenly blown away by a hurricane.
Voldemort gently stroked the armrest of the chair, and there seemed to be a fire burning in his scarlet eyes.