Hogwarts: I can load entries infinitely!

Hogwarts Teacher's Lounge.

It was a long room filled with mismatched old chairs.

At this moment, it looked like a war had just taken place.

The chairs were tilted to the ground, the piles of parchment on the table were scattered all over the floor, and a few quills rolled lonely in the corner. Several empty bottles of wine lay casually on the side table, and one bottle of white wine was particularly conspicuous - this bottle of wine was obviously not enough to satisfy a group of enthusiastic professors.

There were still a few plates of half-eaten snacks in the room, and the aroma of butter beer and gingerbread was still faint.

The fire in the fireplace had weakened to a faint ember, occasionally flickering, reflecting the chaos around, and also illuminating the lazy figures of the people in the portraits on the wall. Most of them had their eyes half open, and seemed to be still immersed in the excitement just now.

There was only one person left in the room.

Albus Dumbledore sat in the only chair that was still standing steadily, with a slightly relaxed look, and his cheeks were slightly flushed because of the wine. He glanced at the mess around him, with a smile on his face.

"So, was this place hit by a tornado?"

A deep voice broke the silence, accompanied by the sound of wings flapping.

Dumbledore raised his head, still smiling.

"Good evening, Tom."

His tone was gentle, as if he was welcoming an old friend.

"I think there might be a small piece of news in tomorrow's Daily Prophet in an inconspicuous corner: 'The headmaster of Hogwarts is drunk'."

On the leg of a tilted chair, an owl was perched steadily.

It was Vega, the owl that had attacked Devereux in the school hospital earlier! Its eyes were sharp, its feathers were as smooth as ink, and it even had a disturbing majesty.

The owl's eyes were cold, and its tone was as sharp as a blade.

"Haha, I'm Voldemort, sir."

Dumbledore's smile softened, like coaxing a child.

"Okay, Tom."

Vega's eyes became sharper in an instant, but it didn't continue to dwell on the title.

"Okay, let's get down to business."

Its voice was low and cold, and it went straight to the point.

"You know my purpose very well. So, what are your conditions?"

Dumbledore's expression gradually became serious, and he looked directly at Vega - or Voldemort, without a trace of retreat in his eyes.

"Tom," he said in a very calm voice, "I need you to stand on Deveraux's side after I leave."

......

The owl gently fluttered its wings, combing its shiny black feathers, with a hint of disdain in its eyes.

"So, that 'nigger' really said I was a dirty thing?"

Voldemort's low voice echoed in the room with a touch of sharp sarcasm.

Dumbledore sat on the chair, tapping his fingers lightly on the armrests, with a faint smile on his lips:

"You know he's watching."

Vega chuckled, his voice cold and malicious: "Oh, I just want him to hear it."

Its eyes pierced the void like a knife, as if piercing the room itself.

"If it weren't for him, would I be like this? Did you hear it, 'nigger'!"

Dumbledore frowned slightly, but his tone was still calm: "Enough, Tom."

His eyes fell on the owl's eyes, as if he wanted to see through the disguise and see the soul behind it.

"It's no good for you to offend a god walking on earth."

He paused, and his tone became more serious: "It's not good for what we are doing."

Hearing this, Voldemort's wings shook violently, making a fluttering sound. He didn't say anything else, flew straight to the door of the teacher's lounge, and disappeared into the night.

Dumbledore watched him leave, his expression as calm as an ancient well.

I don't know what he was thinking about.

However, before the room was completely quiet, there was another flapping sound outside.

Voldemort flew back, this time landing on the lintel of the lounge.

"So," he said, his tone cold, "Does Hogwarts allow dragons now?"

Dumbledore smiled lightly: "They will be sent away next month."

Voldemort snorted coldly: "That big fool still doesn't learn his lesson."

He said, as if ready to leave again, but at the moment he spread his wings, Dumbledore suddenly said: "Tom, don't hurt the child."

Voldemort stopped in mid-air, turned his head and glanced at him coldly, without answering, just flapping his wings and disappeared into the night sky in the distance.

The lounge was quiet again, with only the faint light of the fireplace reflecting Dumbledore's face. He slowly stood up and moved his eyes to an old bronze mirror on the wall.

"Kem," his voice was low and soft, "what do you think?"

The surface of the bronze mirror fluctuated slightly, like a pool of water being gently stirred. A blurry face gradually emerged - a dark face with a deep and evil smile.

"Heh," the man in the mirror chuckled, his voice hoarse and full of ridicule, "actively splitting his own soul...isn't this behavior dirty enough?"

Dumbledore did not answer, but just stared at the familiar face in the bronze mirror quietly.

"What he wants is not just what he just proposed."

There was an unspeakable interest in Mesphilos' voice, as if everything was under his control.

"I think you will never give him what he really wants."

Dumbledore's eyes flickered slightly:

"Go on."

Mesphilos grinned, with a hint of cunning in his expression:

"For this, he has already instigated a person, someone you trust very much."

Dumbledore's eyes suddenly became as sharp as a knife, staring at the bottomless eyes in the mirror: "Who?"

Mesphilos slowly raised his eyebrows, and the smile on his face became more playful: "I tell you directly, then is this still a good story?"

The fluctuations of the bronze mirror gradually subsided, and the mirror surface returned to calm, reflecting only the figure of Dumbledore standing alone.

——

White ceiling.

Hehe... How many times have I woken up in the bed in the school hospital this semester?

Deverot slowly opened his eyes, and his consciousness seemed to break free from a bottomless dream. He raised his hand to touch his throat and felt that the swelling there was almost as big as a bowl.

Although the feeling of suffocation was relieved, his chest still felt like a heavy stone was pressing on it. He tried to sit up with difficulty, and he didn't forget to curse the system in his heart.

"Slight change"... I don't believe it's a slight change!

He was about to complain a few more words when the system's prompt sound suddenly popped up: "The host activated the underwater breathing ability on land, which led to the current situation."

Deveraux was stunned, and then subconsciously touched his neck, and found that he could "switch" a joint he had never felt before according to his consciousness. He thought about it and closed that joint, and the feeling of suffocation disappeared immediately. He could feel that his breathing was finally smoother, and the tightness in his chest was relieved a lot.

"Such an important thing, why didn't you say it earlier! I was almost killed by you!"

Deveraux roared in his heart, and at the same time tried to press his throat gently, feeling that the swollen part was slowly shrinking. He breathed a sigh of relief, and estimated that his neck should be able to return to its original state in another day.

He raised his arm to check the time on the bedside clock, but was interrupted by a loud door opening.

"Deverot! You're awake!"

(Fourth update!!)