harry potter book of crimes

"No, damn, no...I can't do that! You...who are you? Why...why, why, why? Why are you pestering me..."

Late one night, vague murmurs in dreams sounded again from a delicate silver-green single bed. Although it was far from dawn, the room was almost as bright as day.

"...Stay away from me...No, don't come close to me...What are you..."

The layout of this room can be said to be very orderly.

Although expensive furniture and furnishings can be seen everywhere in the details, if someone comes here for the first time, the first thing that person feels is not overwhelming, but that everything that should be organized has been organized.

The books are neatly organized. The books on the bookshelf are arranged in sets, the collections in the display cabinets are spaced at the same distance from each other, and there is no dust in every corner.

"...Don't come here again...No...Don't come here again..."

This is a very old manor, but the people who live here still carefully treat this ancestral home passed down by their ancestors and adhere to almost strict living habits. This sense of honor derived from the surname makes

This family never dared to despise the noble traditions left by their ancestors, even though most wizards already thought it was just a bad habit.

"……let me go!"

Suddenly, at the moment when the fire dragon model of the Hungarian Horntail on the desk raised its head and breathed out a ball of flame dragon breath, a loud shout sounded from the bed, and then the person on the bed suddenly sat up.

.

This is a rather handsome-looking boy. His short golden hair, which was originally neatly combed, has been ravaged by pillows like straw in a henhouse. The bangs on his forehead are even sticky with sweat.

A few strands. This embarrassing picture would have been intolerable to him if he had seen it in the past.

"Huh...huh..."

He kept breathing heavily, wiped the sweat on his forehead, and pushed his messy hair back. This was purely an unconscious behavior, because he had always had this hairstyle when he was a child, although he no longer has it.

I like to do it, but the habit I developed since I was young has been engraved in my bones.

"……hateful!"

After calming down his heavy breathing, he clenched his fists with both hands and slammed the mattress next to him, making a muffled sound.

"Dear, are you having another nightmare? Are you okay?" Along with the sound of footsteps in the corridor, a female voice suddenly came from outside the door, "Can I come in, baby?"

"No, no need...I'm fine, mother!" Hearing this, he immediately replied loudly.

"Really, is everything okay? Oh -" The voice outside was obviously hesitant to the extreme. It was a feeling of being worried about the child but not wanting to make the child unhappy, "Okay... If you need it, mom is always here."

Here I am."

"I see."

I don’t know when it started... Well, maybe it was after his father brought his mother back last time? As soon as he saw his mother coming home, he immediately jumped on her, but in the blink of an eye he fainted on the spot. According to the family’s therapist

It was said that he was temporarily comatose due to excessive mental fluctuations caused by excitement.

In fact, it looked like this on the surface, because it didn't take long for him to wake up on his own.

But since that day, he began to have nightmares. At first, they only happened every once in a while. Although the dreams were surprisingly similar, he didn't care too much.

However, the nightmares soon began to become more frequent, from once every five or six days to almost every night now, and the situation had become serious.

Of course, the therapist must have been seen, and there was more than one. Not to mention the exclusive therapist hired by the family, even the most famous St. Mungo's therapist in the British wizarding world was specially invited to visit the family.

In the end, almost nothing was found.

The reason why I say "almost" is because although the expert failed to diagnose the specific problem, he basically pinned the general cause of the nightmares on the "soul".

Unfortunately, a failed diagnosis means a failed diagnosis and the problem has not been solved.

But the only thing was that he never told anyone. This included his parents and all the therapists who examined him.

In fact, it's not that he can't say it, but that he doesn't know whether to say it or not. Yes, judging from the current situation, this terrible nightmare has even affected his rest. Inadequate sleep makes him feel uncomfortable every day.

I am getting more and more tired, and my mental state is even worse.

But he just... was really reluctant to let this damn nightmare leave him. While feeling fear and disgust in his heart, his heart was shaken... because he could clearly feel that there was a power in him.

The body is constantly breeding, growing, fermenting, and spreading...

This was a temptation mixed with pain that made it difficult for him to let go of it.

"But...but..." He raised his hand and put it in front of his eyes, looking at the darkness flashing between his fingers, and whispered to himself, "Why do you have to ask me to do those stupid things?

Didn't it all be proven last time? The fact is that even Weasley is not an idiot...you want me to kill McClane? I haven't been scared crazy by that boring nightmare yet!"

If anything, a mass of ink-like black appeared in each of those extremely similar dreams. The mass of black came toward him again and again, and then continued to entangle him, tear him apart, and gnaw at him.

Looking at him... Although there was no pain in the dream, the vivid dream made him tremble every time.

The feeling of being swallowed up by the unknown darkness is so real! It’s so scary!

Even though he had refused to admit that he was not brave enough since he was a child, under his current experiences, the fact that he was not brave enough was undeniable.

"Although I don't know what it is, but since it encourages me time and time again to try to kill McClane, doesn't that indirectly mean...McLean is most likely its natural enemy?"

He was thinking this way and kept thinking. In fact, this idea had been circulating in his mind countless times. Yes, if he was determined to eliminate this nightmare from his life, he would go find Maka.

It should be the most correct choice.

Even if he guessed wrong, McClane was not "its" natural enemy, but McClane was still strong enough to become the most powerful wizard he could ask for.

But every time I think about this, I...

He raised the palm of his right hand again and controlled the black color to swirl silently between his palms. This complete sense of power and control really made him obsessed.

When he was slightly dazed, the corner of his eye passed over the desk beside the bed, and he accidentally caught a glimpse of the fire dragon model placed on the table that could only move freely in place. He blinked, his delicate and pale face

There was a hint of gray on the surface, which was the shadow caused by the light when he lowered his head slightly.

After a moment of hesitation, he waved away the black shadow in his palm and stretched out his hand towards the palm-sized fire dragon. The little guy turned his head and looked at his white palm, then gently flapped the dragon's wings and jumped into his hand.

.

This was a birthday gift his father gave him in the past, a souvenir bought from a dragon farm in Romania. Because this is a purely personal gadget, the quantity is not large, and the detailed and vivid body shape shows that it is impressive.

the value of.

In his hands, the fire dragon model is still as lively as when he first got it, without changing at all; but the person who gave it to him is still lying on the bed, nursing his injuries with a tired face.

It was the time when my father went out to search for his mother's whereabouts, which seemed to be somewhere in Germany. When his father finally found his missing mother, he was accidentally injured by the mother who was under the Imperius Curse.

At the moment when my father fell to the ground under the curse, my mother broke free from the shackles of the Imperius Curse and woke up, but the serious injury became a reality.

As for who the Imperius Curse came from, everyone has some idea in their mind, but they never say it. Needless to say, if it wasn't Voldemort who lived in the house who put it, then it must have been someone who lived with him.

That crazy woman Bellatrix.

"Father, tell me...what should I do...how should I choose?"

He could not say this sentence in front of his father, but instead said it to a model on the bed. This shows that his dependence on his father is still as strong as in his childhood, but the growth caused by the family's breakdown has

It also made him unwilling to cause his seriously injured father to worry any more.

He knew that he was not a brave person, and the father he had admired since he was a child was actually not a brave person either.

After holding the fire dragon model in his hand and playing with it absently for a while, he put it back on the table. The curtains in front of the table were tightly closed, and no light from the outside could penetrate. This made him unaware of the outside world.

Has the sky quietly brightened?

Judging from the time displayed on the dial, it will probably take two or three hours before dawn, right?

"ah--"

He let himself fall heavily on the bed again. In the never-ending struggle, the fatigue of lack of sleep once again pulled him into a hazy dreamland. As for whether he would still fall into the nightmare like before, he had already

There was no energy left to worry because his mental fatigue had reached its limit.

Of course, the horrific dream will continue and stay with him until his final choice is made.

On the bedside table next to the pillow, a Potions notebook with a green background and silver edges was sitting there, with a small signature written in silver ink on the bottom of the cover - Draco Malfoy.