Hogwarts: I am Voldemort

Moving forward along the high ground, everyone finally came to a valley.

In the valley, dozens of huge totems are arranged in an orderly manner.

"This is the totem pole of all existing clan tribes in the Sioux. We will ask them here and hope to get their enlightenment."

After the grassland witch finished speaking, he motioned for Voldemort and others to wait aside.

He himself took the lead and walked forward with a group of tribal shamans.

"Totem, your believers pray to you to enlighten our wisdom and advise us how to choose..."

The prairie shaman briefly told the dilemma he faced and prayed for the totem's clear instructions.

After that, a group of tribal shamans arranged in an orderly manner, and then the riverside shaman stepped forward alone.

He came to a group of totem poles, turned around and stood still.

Then, he took out a genna flute from his waist and slowly put it to his mouth.

"Woo~~"

A low, deep, and vicissitudes of voice suddenly sounded, causing the hearts of everyone who had just listened to what the Prairie Witch had just said to tremble inexplicably.

The melody changes from straight to melodious, but during the transition, there is always the sound of the breath passing through the wood pipe.

This voice suddenly made the vicissitudes of life feel a little more desolate and chilling.

"Heyah~heyah~heyah~heyah~heyah~"

The tribal shamans suddenly spoke in unison, and to the melodious sound of Gaina's flute, they began to murmur in a tone that sounded like grinding teeth, as if chanting or singing.

The voice couldn't be described as pleasant, and even revealed a hint of weirdness.

But as soon as it appeared, it suddenly made people's hearts sink, and then pain seemed to flow out of it, which was so astringent that it made the whole body weak.

This situation makes people feel better until the "ah" in the voice disappears and only the long "hey" sound is left.

But as the bitterness in my heart disappeared, sadness began to fill my heart again.

As if in an instant, the sorrow of a nation's life and death emerged overwhelmingly.

"call."

Voldemort heard the sound of exhalation coming from behind him, as if he was trying to expel the pain in his heart.

He glanced sideways and found Neville, who was speechless. He was grimacing and twisting his body uneasily.

Voldemort looked away from him, and when he turned to look at the tribe of witches again, he saw them starting to dance.

That movement has nothing to do with elegance, but the rough and wild movements reveal a primitive beauty of vicissitudes of life.

Coupled with the sound of the witches' Gaina flute by the river and the chanting from the mouths of the witches.

The picture in front of me has magically become quite harmonious.

"I've seen those scenes."

Count Dracula, who was half a step behind Voldemort, suddenly spoke in a deep voice.

"What?" Voldemort turned to look at him in confusion.

"I've seen those people, how they were treated."

Count Dracula looked at the dancing Indians and said with blurred eyes, "That day I was walking in the night fog. The night wind blew away the thick fog, revealing endless rows of crosses and naked bodies. Those People were hung in the same position."

"Are they dead?" Luna asked softly.

"No." Count Dracula whispered.

Voldemort withdrew his gaze from Count Dracula's face and looked at the dancing tribal witches again.

The moonlight covered them with silver clothes and illuminated their eyes.

Those gazes were mixed with piety and sadness, as if they could travel through time and space and see the death of the Indians in the smoke that had long since dissipated.

"call."

Finally, Voldemort couldn't help but let out a breath and shook his head vigorously.

This feeling of being enveloped in sadness made him very uncomfortable.

In order to shake off his emotions, he looked at the totem poles.

His eyes wandered among the totem poles, and he carefully looked at the totem lines.

Each one is very complex and delicate, and seems to reflect silver light under the moonlight.

"etc?"

Voldemort suddenly widened his eyes.

At that moment, he seemed to see a different color in the silver light.

And that color was not the first time Voldemort had seen it.

To make sure he was dazzled, he stepped closer to the totem pole.

This attracted the attention of everyone behind him. Count Dracula raised his hand to hold Voldemort, but he finally stopped in hesitation.

Voldemort, who had taken a few steps forward, quickly stopped.

Not because he realized that this scene was not suitable for walking around, but because he found that the color completely disappeared as he moved.

Standing still, Voldemort began to observe the lights carefully.

Slowly, the changes in the silver light were captured by him again.

Colorful black, white and red green.

It’s completely unclear what color it is, it’s weird and obscure, as if it’s changing all the time, and it’s as if it’s just such an indescribable color.

He had seen this color on the magical coffin in the Pyramid of Khufu.

"Is this...the power of faith?" Voldemort murmured in surprise.

He was stunned by the scene in front of him, and he couldn't get over the shock for a long time.

It wasn't until the song and dance of the tribe's shamans reached its climax and the "Hey" voice became louder and louder that he finally woke up from the shock.

"Faith, faith..."

He murmured this word in his mouth, and his whole body seemed to be possessed.

The people who came closer looked at each other in confusion, wondering what happened to Voldemort.

Voldemort paid no attention to them at all, and kept looking directly at them, wandering among the tribal witches and totem poles.

Finally, Voldemort set his sights on the tribal witch.

"If singing a song is likened to chanting a spell, if dancing is likened to waving a magic wand, and if the piety in the heart is likened to the magic in the body, then..."

Voldemort's murmuring voice became more and more excited, "Then the power of faith formed can be regarded as a curse?"

This surprising discovery made Voldemort unable to help but try it immediately.

He learned the movements of the tribal shamans, learned their voices, and even moved with their footsteps.

This strange behavior frightened everyone behind him into confusion.

But Voldemort obviously didn't care about them, he just kept trying and trying.

Unfortunately, as the music was coming to an end, Voldemort still found nothing.

The witch by the river, who had already noticed him, frowned while playing the genna flute.

His expression also caused the prairie wizard to look at Voldemort.

When he noticed Voldemort's movements, he immediately made a gesture to the River Witch.

After receiving the signal from the grassland witch, the riverside witch suddenly changed his tune and played the tune again.

When Voldemort noticed all this, he danced with surprise and excitement, and devoted himself to trying to generate the power of faith.

Slowly, his pronunciation became more standard and his movements became more perfect.

It's a pity that despite all his efforts, he couldn't develop a pious heart.

This made him stop moving helplessly and anxiously think about countermeasures.

"How do you make a Muggle who has learned to chant spells and wave a wand use magic?"

He asked himself such a question, but it seemed that there was no solution to this problem at all.