Hogwarts: I am Voldemort

"I hope to get a definite answer from you, which is particularly important for perfecting my plan."

Withdrawing his evil smile, Voldemort glanced at the faces of the four witches one by one, "So, the Seven Colors Flame Council led by the four witches, what answer will you give me?"

The eyes of the Sword Witch, the Riverside Witch, and the Wild Horse Witch instantly focused on the face of the Grassland Witch.

This made him feel unprecedented pressure, and at the same time, he knew in his heart that the future of the Sioux clan would be determined by the answer he gave.

"Crackling..."

There was the sound of burning wood in the bonfire, and the sound of the night wind blowing overhead.

Everyone waited with bated breath for the grassland witch's answer, but the latter did not speak out.

It's not that he doesn't dare or he doesn't want to, it's just that he is lost between the pros and cons and can't find the most correct answer for a while.

"Up to the Holy Mountain."

Seeing that the Prairie Witch didn't answer for a long time, the rough Mustang Witch shouted.

This sentence awakened the grassland witch from his thoughts, and also made him and everyone focus on the wild horse witch.

Before Voldemort and others could ask the meaning of this sentence, the voice of the sword wizard had already sounded.

"Yes, go to the Holy Mountain and ask about the totem."

The sword wizard said, casting his excited eyes at Voldemort, "His Majesty the Dark Lord, are you willing to follow us to the Holy Mountain, tell us about your plan, and let the totem make the final judgment?"

Voldemort did not rush to answer, but looked at the prairie witch.

The latter immediately understood what he meant and gave him the answer he wanted to know.

"Totems are the embodiment of our faith. They will give us guidance when necessary, but most of the time they won't say anything." said the grassland witch.

Voldemort nodded, pondered for a moment and said, "Then let's go to the Holy Mountain to see it."

The four witches immediately got up, took Voldemort and his party with them, and summoned dozens of tribal witches to go to the Holy Mountain with them.

The sacred mountain of the Sioux people refers to the Black Mountain.

If you are not familiar with this mountain, then you will probably be familiar with the mountain where the statue of the President of the United States is located.

Yes, this statue is carved on a mountain wall in the Montenegro Mountains.

The Holy Mountain is also in the Black Mountain Mountains.

Voldemort and his party, led by four witches, apparated directly to the sacred mountain of the Sioux tribe.

The light here is very dark, and the few torches are not enough to illuminate the entire col.

Voldemort and others followed the footsteps of the four witches and moved forward along the path in the center of the mountain col.

After walking for a while, the light became brighter and some pillars began to appear on both sides of the road.

They were more than thirty meters tall, and the most reached more than sixty meters. There were some complicated marks carved on the pillars, but Voldemort could not recognize the meaning of these marks.

"It's a totem pole."

The grassland witch walking beside Voldemort said, "Each clan has its own totem. If the totem is carved on such a pillar, it is called a totem pole."

Voldemort nodded slowly, and then asked doubtfully: "Why are they separated on both sides, instead of gathering them together?"

"They are all totem poles of extinct tribes. They will only be worshiped occasionally. No clan will worship them for a long time." The grassland witch said in a deep voice.

"So many perished tribes?" Voldemort asked in surprise, "Are all the tribes that have perished for thousands of years here?"

"No."

The sword wizard suddenly turned his head and said with hatred in his eyes, "It's just a tribe that disappeared from the end of the 18th century to the end of the 19th century. Your Majesty the Dark Lord, the road is still long."

After he finished speaking, he turned around and stopped talking.

"That is the totem of the riverside tribe. I once heard the last grassland wizard say that the songs of that tribe are like flowing water."

The grassland witch took over the conversation, his voice still low, but not as full of hatred as the sword witch.

Instead, his voice was full of nostalgia.

"That's the totem of the Wind Tribe. They don't like singing, but they are the best at dancing."

"That is the totem of the Horn Tribe. They are the bravest warriors. No one flinches under the sound of the horn."

"That's the totem of the Pisces tribe. Their tribe is very good at pickling fish. Legend has it that it's a rare delicacy."

"..."

Walking past totem poles one after another, the prairie shaman knew them very well and could tell some different details every time.

Sing, dance, be brave, pickle, run, be tall, sew, be curious, love autumn...

These different characteristics made Voldemort and others feel that the tribes that had disappeared were as alive as if they were alive.

Just listening and walking like this, suddenly there was crying from the front.

Everyone looked up, but they saw the back of the most violent Mustang Witch, twitching with the sound of crying.

Seeing this scene, the grassland witch finally stopped and stopped talking about the tribes that disappeared in history.

But after a brief pause, he spoke again.

"Washington said: Do not listen to any proposals for peace until all Indian reservations have been effectively destroyed."

"Jefferson said: We will not rest quietly until these tribes are completely exterminated."

"Lincoln said: Thirty-eight Minnesota Mankato chiefs will be hanged immediately without any court debate."

"Roosevelt said: Only dead Indians are good Indians."

The grassland witch's voice was low and calm. When he told everything, there was no sadness or hatred in his words.

But the sound of those broken thoughts spread into everyone's hearts like a curse.

Everyone, including Voldemort, could not be calm for a long time.

At this time, everyone had walked out of the mountain col and arrived at a high ground.

"Look there."

The prairie witch suddenly stopped and pointed into the distance.

Everyone looked in the direction of his finger and saw four stern faces illuminated by the dim moonlight on the cliff in the distance.

They belong to:

George Washington, Thomas Jefferson, Theodore Roosevelt and Abraham Lincoln.

And just before they stopped, the prairie witch mentioned the names of the four of them again.

"How many Indians died in those 100 years?"

Neville, who was a man of few words, suddenly broke the bottleneck and asked.

"Tens of millions, or more."

There was finally a hint of sadness in the grassland witch's voice.

Voldemort raised his eyebrows, and a strange idea suddenly appeared:

How long would it take him to kill so many people if he used a life-killing spell or a life-killing wave?

Come to think of it, even if these people don't resist, the workload must be huge.

"Fortunately, these totem poles are still there, fortunately these totems are still there."

The grassland witch suddenly raised his voice and said loudly to everyone, "They record our history and our original appearance. Totems will never disappear, and neither will the Indians."

“Totems never die, and Indians never die.”

A group of tribal witches stepped on the grassland witch's words and responded loudly.

Voldemort was awakened by their roars, glanced at the excited tribe witches, and finally gave up counting the time.

Perhaps, that is a time that can never be calculated.