Hogwarts: I can load entries infinitely!

The man was stunned for a moment, then burst into laughter, unfolded the newspaper in his hand, and shook his head exaggeratedly.

"Haha, so this is it! Little guy, you really have taste, like watching duel competitions? What, you also want to be a duel champion?"

The owl seemed to understand what he said, and gently scratched the bottom of the cage with its claws, with a hint of impatience.

The man laughed even more happily, and casually pushed the newspaper back in front of the owl.

"Okay, okay, take it and play with it, anyway, I have seen it a long time ago. If you like to tear it, just tear it to your heart's content. I still have a lot of waste newspapers here, enough for your entertainment."

He thought the owl just wanted to play with the newspaper. After all, many owls and cats in his store like to tear the newspaper into pieces, as if venting some inexplicable emotions.

The man originally planned to continue to look down at the newspaper in his hand, but the owl suddenly made a sharp cry, the sound was harsh and shrill, as if expressing some kind of urgent emotion, and even made people feel nervous.

"Ouch, what are you doing?"

The man was startled by the sudden noise and looked up at it with a frown.

The owl did not stop, but screamed louder and louder, with an unignorable anxiety and urgency in its voice, as if it had to make people notice its existence.

The man threw the newspaper on the counter and stood up, with a bit of impatience in his tone.

"Okay, okay, stop screaming! Are you trying to scare away all my customers? Although... there are not many customers."

While muttering, he walked towards the owl and reached out to grab its cage to teach this "troublemaker" a lesson.

But strangely, as soon as the man took a step closer, the owl immediately stopped screaming and became quiet.

It looked down at the spread newspaper, then pecked it quickly with its beak a few times, not very hard, but the action was unusually clear, as if trying to point out something.

The man looked down at the newspaper in confusion, his eyes fell on a large group photo.

In the photo, an old professor with a round figure and a kind smile was standing among a group of students, holding a glass of champagne in his hand, smiling brightly.

He squinted his eyes and carefully identified the people in the photo.

Suddenly, his eyes lit up and a look of realization appeared on his face.

"Oh, isn't this Professor Slughorn?"

He pointed at the old professor in the photo, with a hint of surprise in his tone.

"When I was reading this edition of the newspaper, I didn't even notice that it was him! I am his last graduate... This old man likes to take these group photos, tut tut."

Just as he was recalling the fun things in his student days, the back of his hand suddenly felt a sharp pain.

He suddenly retracted his hand, looked down, and found that there was another bright red blood cut on his hand.

"Ouch! Why are you pecking me again?"

He frowned and looked up at the owl, and the expression on his face had changed from confusion to helplessness.

The owl did not stop because of his complaint, but continued to stare at its golden eyes, looking both firm and anxious.

Then, it lowered its head and pecked the newspaper twice with its beak.

The man rubbed his injured hand and looked in the direction of its peck. In the group photo on the newspaper, the owl accurately pecked off the face of a boy standing next to Slughorn.

There was only a blurry blank in that place now, and it was impossible to see its original appearance.

"You...what are you doing?"

The man frowned and muttered, his eyes switching back and forth between the newspaper and the owl.

The owl ignored his doubts, lowered its head again, and pecked a few times in another part of the photo with its beak.

This time, it pecked at the Hogwarts Castle in the background of the photo. The towering spire and the familiar stone bridge appeared clearly on the torn newspaper.

The man's expression gradually changed from puzzlement to understanding.

He stared at the owl, as if trying to figure out its intentions.

"So..."

He spoke tentatively, his voice lowered a few degrees.

"You mean... your master is in Hogwarts?"

--

Tick-tock--

The sound of liquid dripping on the floor was particularly clear in this huge treasure house.

The surroundings were filled with gold coins, and the golden light reflected on the stone walls, as if even the air was stained with a golden glimmer.

These riches spread across the entire space, extending into the distance, until the end of the sight, as if there was no end.

However, in this dazzling brilliance, there was a smell of blood that was hard to ignore.

A man with a short golden haircut stood in front of a huge golden hourglass in the center of the treasure house.

His face was cold, his eyes were like knives, and there was a sharp sense of oppression.

It was the man who wore a human skin mask at the exhibition and tossed coins with others and called himself "Muhammad".

He looked up at the golden sand slowly flowing in the hourglass, his voice was low and cold, as if he was talking to someone, or mumbling to himself.

"To be honest, before I came back this time, I never thought that they would have such a huge fortune in our family, but be so... incompetent."

As soon as he finished speaking, a stream of dark red blood came from the depths of the treasure house and gradually approached his feet.

The man slowly raised his hand, and his slender fingers gently touched the translucent structure on the surface of the hourglass.

His movements seemed casual, but they carried an invisible majesty, as if the entire space was still because of him.

"After so many years, they still let the world not know the existence of the 'master'."

He clicked his tongue, his words full of contempt and disdain.

"Oh, what a bunch of trash."

Having said this, he turned around and stepped forward.

The blood under his feet caused tiny ripples as he stepped on it.

His steps were steady, his eyes were cold, and he didn't even glance at the pale broken arm at his feet.

The arm was scarred and stained with blood, as if it had just experienced cruel torture.

The surrounding ground had already been soaked with blood, forming a small pool of blood.

But the man seemed to turn a blind eye to this.

His voice continued to echo in the empty treasury.

"They are too cowardly and unworthy of inheriting our mission."

His tone gradually turned gloomy, and there was a crazy light in his eyes.

"But soon, I will let the name of 'Lord' ring throughout the world."

He stopped, looked down at the ground, and fixed his gaze on a corner.

There, a dark-haired man tightly locked by golden chains was curled up.

At this time, one of Snape's arms was missing, and the only remaining arm was firmly fixed to the wall by a golden chain.

His hair was caked with blood, and a few strands stood stiffly, looking messy and embarrassed.

His face was covered in blood, with dried blood intertwined with fresh blood, making it almost impossible to see his original face.

Despite this, his eyes were still stubborn and determined, staring straight at the huge golden hourglass in the center of the treasure house, as if he could see some distant truth through it.

"Haha, speaking of which, dear Severus, do you know how our family accumulated so much wealth?"

The blond man stood opposite Snape, his eyes filled with amusement and a hint of madness.

He chuckled softly, and then slowly sat down against the wall, as leisurely as if this was an ordinary conversation, rather than taking place deep in a bloody treasure trove.

Snape said nothing, his eyes still fixed on the hourglass.

His chest was rising and falling slightly, and his breathing was slightly rapid, but he had no reaction to the blond man's words, as if the other person's existence didn't matter at all.

The blond man obviously didn't care about Snape's silence. He leaned against the cold stone wall and continued talking to himself, with a hint of complacency and cruelty in his tone.

"Actually, when I first left here, our family only had less than a thousand Galleons in the treasury in London. Oh, a thousand Galleons? It's not even enough for your meager salary for a year."

As he spoke, the corner of his mouth raised a contemptuous arc, and his eyes glanced at Snape, as if expecting to see a trace of wavering on the other person's face.

However, Snape's expression was like a mask carved on rock, cold and hard, without any change.

The blond man shrugged and continued.

"But then, I discovered an interesting thing -"

He suddenly lowered his voice, as if he was telling a ridiculous joke.

"As long as someone touches these gold coins, they themselves will turn into a pile of gold coins. How about it? Interesting, right? With just a little bit of skill, you can make them willing to come to your doorstep and become part of our family's treasury."

When he said this, he couldn't help laughing. The laughter echoed in the empty treasure house and seemed extremely harsh.

"Next, they come here one after another as if they have no brains, scrambling to turn them into gold coins. Do you think this is the most ridiculous way to accumulate wealth? Hahaha!"

The blond man's laughter became more and more wild, as if he was laughing at the stupidity of the entire world.

He laughed so hard that he even raised his hand to pat Snape on the shoulder, as if sharing a big joke with an old friend.

However, Snape remained motionless.

His eyes were still locked on the hourglass, and there was no emotion in those deep black eyes, as if the blond man's wild laughter was just noise in the air.

Muhammad laughed for a while, and the laughter echoed in the empty treasure house, as if with some kind of twisted pleasure.

He finally stopped after laughing enough, turned his head, and looked at Snape.

"So, Severus Snape, in order to atone for your sins, are you willing to become part of our family wealth? To be honest, this way of death is relatively easy."

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