Hogwarts: I am Voldemort

The dancing Voldemort suddenly stopped.

It didn't last long, maybe three to five seconds.

But when he opened his eyes again, his whole temperament had changed.

He is still wearing the same Fengya brand wizard robe, and his long hair is still draped smoothly behind his back.

But looking at his back from the back, I feel that he is a little less elegant than before, and a little more... rough that I have never seen before.

Rough?

Several people looking at Voldemort's back felt that they must be crazy.

You can use words like ruthless, evil, and cruel to describe the Dark Lord.

He can also be described as handsome, elegant, or even beautiful.

But rough and tumble, what the hell is this?

But while several people were stunned, Voldemort in front of them did something that surprised them even more.

"My name is Dispersion in the Wind, and I am a Sioux."

The clear voice in the past was actually a little hoarse at this moment.

And the dance that followed was also full of the unique flavor of the tribal people.

Rough, wild, and uninhibited, this is what tribal people look like when they dance.

And Voldemort's movements and demeanor were exactly the same as theirs.

"Your Majesty the Dark Lord...what's going on?"

Luna asked in confusion, but unfortunately no one could answer her question.

And those with the same doubts were the tribal shamans who were still dancing.

They also couldn't understand why Voldemort became different after he stopped dancing again.

Voldemort ignored their doubts. At this time, he still had not escaped from the memories emanating from the wind.

Even the memories belonging to Voldemort are only awakening quietly and do not occupy the main consciousness.

That is to say.

At this moment, Voldemort was mostly emanating from the wind, with only a weak self slowly awakening.

And even this weak self was not eager to gain control of the body at the moment of awakening.

on the contrary.

He carefully hid himself and tried to let the will emanating from the wind continue to jump.

At the same time, he tried hard to feel it.

Explore whether the singing, dancing, and a pious heart he never had before gave rise to the power of faith.

At first, he was sure that the power of faith did not appear.

In this state where his soul is wandering outside his body, his senses are sharper than usual.

But slowly, as the wind spread more and more into the sacrificial dance, he began to feel a different kind of power gathering.

The song has a unique rhythm like a spell.

But it's different.

The chanting of mantras is more of a standardized chanting, not emotional, more rational.

The singing during the sacrificial dance does not control the rhythm accurately.

On the contrary, the emotional investment is more important than the control of rhythm and pitch.

Correspondingly, the same is true for dance.

It corresponds to the wand swinging action. For wizards, the first thing to learn is the standard swing rhythm and amplitude.

As for the dance in sacrificial dance, you don’t need to care so much about body movements or cadence.

More, it is to convey the unique temperament of a tribe.

And how to grasp and control this temperament is really difficult for people who are not members of this tribe.

Voldemort was quietly comprehending everything in the depths of his consciousness, and at the same time, he tried to chase the rising power of faith and get closer to the totem.

He was very curious about the final ownership and function of these powers.

As his separated consciousness began to approach the totem, there was a faint sound like waves.

"Crashing... crashing..."

The rhythm of the voice actually matched the singing of the tribal shamans.

Voldemort's consciousness continued to get closer, until it was almost touching the totem pole.

Then, his consciousness was suddenly sucked into the totem pole.

"Crashing... crashing..."

My ears were filled with the sound of sea water, and my surroundings were filled with colorful blackness, but I didn't feel any squeezing sensation in my consciousness.

He tried to control these powers of faith, but as soon as his consciousness moved, those powers of faith surged up.

"Crash..."

This time, even the people outside noticed the noise.

When they looked at the totem pole, the power of faith flew out of the totem pole with the sound of turbulent waves.

They formed clumps of their own and scattered everywhere.

As soon as he left the totem pole, he seemed to be dominated by the dance that composed it, transformed into a large or small human form, and began to dance in the air.

At first, a group of tribal shamans danced and watched.

But gradually, they all stopped and their eyes widened in surprise.

And when those little black people hovered around the totem pole and started dancing on the spot, the Mustang Witch among them suddenly shouted "Ghost Dance".

This sound seemed to open something, and all the tribal shamans immediately fell to their knees in excitement and kept paying homage.

Voldemort's consciousness, which was no longer found in the totem pole, had returned to the body at this time.

The consciousness in his body that belonged to the wind was also shattered as his consciousness returned and reunited.

The next moment, Voldemort became Voldemort again, and the emanation in the wind had completely disappeared.

“Amazing experience.”

Voldemort murmured, looking at the little man floating in the air.

They are returning to the totem pole as Voldemort's consciousness leaves.

"It's the ghost dance that the prophet Wawuka said. The sleeping ancestors will be awakened, the buffalo will return to the earth, the white people will leave, and the Sioux will regain control of their land."

The sword wizard suddenly roared excitedly, and began to kowtow to the totem pole where Voldemort's consciousness had entered before.

"what's the situation?"

Voldemort approached the prairie witch who stood up and asked him softly.

"A great prophet of the Knife Tribe once predicted the coming of Ghost Dance a hundred years ago, but I didn't expect it to come true today." The prairie witch said solemnly.

Voldemort raised an eyebrow.

If the prophecy is true, am I included in the prophecy?

He curiously showed his prophetic eyes and looked at the sword wizard who was still kneeling down to worship his totem pole.

White light, golden flame.

Sure enough, this guy is the Indian's son of destiny.

Voldemort looked at the prairie witch next to him again, which made the prairie witch who was looking at him tremble. He must have been frightened by Voldemort's strange red eyes.

White light, golden flame.

Good guy, another child of destiny.

Voldemort couldn't help but look at the other tribe witches and found that there were quite a lot of Children of Destiny. The difference was only the brightness of the white light and the height of the golden flame.

Among the tribal witches, the ones with the brightest light and the highest flames are undoubtedly the four witches.

Among the four witches, the one who is also a sword witch is the most eye-catching.

"Between reason and will, the latter seems to have won."

Voldemort murmured, slowly extinguishing the light in his right eye.

"what is that?"

It wasn't until the light completely disappeared that the prairie wizard asked him doubtfully.

"Eye of the Prophet, Prairie Witch, I am also a prophet."

After Voldemort answered with a smile, he saw the prairie witch's eyes widen in surprise.

①These are real people and events. I hope the deceased rests in peace and gets what he wishes.