Harry Potter’s Natural Villain

"Take me as food?" Voldemort's face darkened instantly, he felt an unbearable insult.

The man just waved his pale hand lightly, and an invisible barrier blocked in front of the group of fruits. The fruits stopped in mid-air against the laws of physics, and then fell suddenly, rolling on the sand in a chaotic manner.

Just as Voldemort was about to turn around and leave, the fruits suddenly bounced wildly and restlessly, and a hot air got into the two slits of Voldemort's nose that could barely be called.

A series of explosions came from not far away, and the dazzling light that followed seemed to pierce people's eyes, as if the whole island was shaken by this series of explosions.

"Damn." Voldemort was almost knocked over by the sudden explosion. He waved his wand frantically, resisting the sand and stones splashing in all directions.

The next part of the journey was not long, Voldemort had to spend his energy to deal with all kinds of strange and endless magical creatures. For a while, the fist-sized, strong ants like the size of the waves attacked him suicide like an army. In the distance, there will be a dark crowd of manic birds flying, roaring and screaming. Charge him tirelessly.

Even if Voldemort didn't care about their threats in the slightest, he didn't bother.

On the black robe, even a few pieces were damaged due to the explosion just now.

Disgraced, it's the perfect description to describe Voldemort at this time.

But now his mood has calmed down, and he has cast aside the irritability that was unreasonable at the time.

Calm thinking is a prerequisite for a great wizard.

Especially when he's not at his peak yet.

He can't afford to lose.

Voldemort became more and more cautious. He slowly stepped on the stone steps one by one, cautiously guarding against triggering any traps. Lucius was delaying time for him, entangled in Dumbledore, that hateful old man was at any time. will come.

It seems that all the traps have been exhausted, and there is no obstruction on this stone step.

Voldemort dragged his robe and walked step by step to the stone gate made of a single piece of granite, and attached his slender, pale, bone-like palm to it, and chanted the incantation.

With a sound of "Gala", the stone door opened, and a rotten smell suddenly filled the air.

There was a stark contrast between the lively magical creatures in the outside world and the dead cells in between.

Voldemort walked in and walked to the end without hesitation, the tip of the yew wand emitting a faint light, illuminating the path ahead.

Some prisoners saw him through the railings, but it was as if they hadn't seen him, dumbfounded and blank-eyed, while others were asleep, as if the dreams brought by sleep could allow him to escape everything.

This is the aftermath of being tortured by Dementors.

Voldemort wasn't worried about his subordinates, they were the craziest dark wizards, and their spirits might be sluggish because of the Dementors, but they would never completely destroy their will.

He wants to find his subordinates first, these may be useless prisoners he can deal with later, and if they let them out, they will definitely make Dumbledore devastated for a long time.

"Who are you? You were also arrested?"

Voldemort continued to go deeper, only to find that someone still maintained consciousness and stopped him.

This is a sturdy bald young man with black skin. He doesn't look like he is British, and his accent is a bit strange, but he seems to be from Africa.

"Aren't you affected?" A cruel light flashed in Voldemort's scarlet eyes, and it had been a long time since no one had dared to be so rude to him.

However, he still held his temper and asked in a cold tone.

"Oh, I don't know, all I know is that as soon as I came in, they were like this." The man said with a laugh, not conscious of being a prisoner at all, and seemed a little happy for the entry of this newcomer.

"It's so boring here," the man said. "Are you a newcomer here? Didn't the Auror bet you?" he asked curiously.

"I can take you on a great adventure, it must be fun."

A green light flashed in the dark corridor.

he died.

Voldemort didn't need an important reason to kill someone.

Voldemort slowly moved deeper. The man's words seemed to give him some hints, but he still couldn't infer anything from that information. As for Legilimency, he didn't want to waste time on it for the time being.

"Antonin Dolohov," Voldemort muttered, with a happy smile on his pale face, that he had found one of his most capable men.

The man fell into the cell. He had a long, pale, twisted face. His temperament was a little closer to Voldemort, but he had a big body and a round waist, which softened the feeling.

He should be one of the most powerful dark wizards under Voldemort. He once joined several other Death Eaters to kill Molly Weasley's two brothers Fabian and Gideon Prewett.

At this time, his eyes were closed, and he seemed to fall into a deep sleep.

"Recover quickly!" The cold incantation echoed in the cell.

Dolokhov opened his eyes.

All the emotions that represented color were lost in those eyes, and some were just endless emptiness, which made people palpitate. This man seemed to have lost his soul.

Voldemort felt his heart twitch, and an emotion called anger spread in his chest.

He gritted his teeth bitterly: "Dumbledore!"

Voldemort got out of this little prison, and he quickened his pace and went deeper.

Suddenly, his bone-like hand trembled slightly.

He saw a woman sitting on a tattered wooden chair. Her smooth, jet-black hair was now withered together, with many branches extending out, which seemed so brittle that it would shatter when touched.

She stared blankly at the man in front of her, 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 was usual, even if she still retained a little bit of consciousness, she would crawled over frantically, shouted his name, and kissed his toes lightly.

The man licked his dry lips, his pale face fell into a violent mood, his scarlet eyes began to blood, and the light like blood flickered in the snake pupil, Voldemort was his most ardent admirer. Legilimency is used.

A blank, a blank sheet of paper.

Voldemort's ten pale fingers were twisted together in an instant, making a cracking sound.

"Very good," he murmured, and no one knew what kind of emotion he was in.

She's alive, but she's dead

With a deep sigh, Voldemort waved his wand, and an eerie green light flashed across the prison.

The woman sitting on the seat was hit without the slightest resistance. She leaned back, hit the wall, and then slowly slid down weakly.

The woman died, this time in every sense.

But it might be a relief for her instead.

"Voldemort will avenge you and make them pay the price they deserve." The man said frantically, as if the entire castle began to tremble violently with fear because of his anger.

Azkaban.

collapse.