HP Parallel World

(If you are away from home, you will get home tomorrow night, and you will make up for this chapter tomorrow night. I really can't write it out today.) The villagers of Little Hungerton still call this house "Riddle Mansion", although the Riddle family has not lived here for many years. The house is located on a hillside, and the entire village can be seen from here. Several windows of the house are sealed, the tiles on the roof are incomplete, and the ivy claws are creeping all over the house. Riddle Mansion was originally a very beautiful house, and the most spacious and grandest building within a few miles, but now it has become wet, desolate, and uninhabited all year round.

The villagers of Little Hungerton agreed that the old house was "scary and scary". Half a century ago, something bizarre and terrible happened here. Until now, when the older generations in the village had no other topics, they liked to talk about it. This story was repeatedly told, and many places were added to the fire, so no one could tell the truth. However, every version of the story began in the same way: fifty years ago, when Riddle was still well-managed and extraordinary, at a clear summer dawn, a maid walked into the living room and found that Riddle's family of three died.

The maid screamed and ran down the hillside, ran into the village, trying her best to awaken the villagers.

"Everyone is lying down, with big eyes open! She is cold all over! She is wearing her clothes for dinner!"

The police were called, and the entire village of Hangdon was immersed in surprise and curiosity. The villagers tried their best to hide their excitement, but failed. No one wasted their efforts and pretended to be sad for the Derell family because they were very popular in the village. The old couple were very rich, but they were snobbish and rude. Their adult son Tom, you may not believe it, but they were even worse than their parents. The villagers were concerned about who the murderer was - obviously, it was impossible for three people who seemed very healthy to die naturally at the same night.

That night, the village's Hang Ghost Tavern business was particularly prosperous, and it seemed that the whole village had come to talk about the murder. They abandoned the stove at home and did not find anything, because the chef of the Riddle family came dramatically among them and told the sudden quiet of the tavern customers that a man named Frank Bryce had just been arrested.

"Frank!" several people shouted, "Impossible!"

Frank Bryce was a gardener of the Riddle family. He lived alone in a dilapidated cabin in the Riddle house garden. Frank returned from the battlefield, his legs were so stiff that he was out of control and extremely disgusted with the crowd and the noise. He has been working for the Riddle family since then.

People in the tavern rushed to buy wine for the cook, wanting to hear more details.

"I thought he was weird for a long time," the cook drank the fourth cup of sherry and told the villagers who were eager to listen. "It's cold and doesn't like to pay attention to people. I believe that if I want to invite him to have a cup of tea, he would have to ask him a hundred times before he agreed. He never likes to interact with people."

"Oh, how do you say it," said a woman next to the bar. "Frank has participated in a cruel war. He likes to live a peaceful life, and we have no reason-"

"So, who else has the key to the back door?" said the cook in a stern voice. "I remember that there was a spare key hanging in the gardener's cabin! Last night, no one broke into the door! The window was not broken! Frank just sneaked into the house while we were all asleep..."

The villagers exchanged their gazes silently.

"I always thought he was so annoying, really." A man next to the bar muttered.

"If I were to say it, it was the war that made him weird," said the tavern owner.

"I told you that I don't want to offend Frank, right, Dort?" said an emotional woman in the corner.

"I'm so bad." Dort said, nodding enthusiastically, "I still remember when he was young..."

The next morning, in the dim and gloomy police station in Little Hungerton, Frank stubbornly repeated over and over again his innocentness. He said that on the day the Riddles died, the only person he saw near the house was a teenage boy he didn't know, with a dark hair and a pale face. No one else in the village had ever seen such a boy, and the police believed that Frank made it up out of thin air.

Just when the situation was extremely serious for Frank, the Riddles' family's autopsy report came back, turning the whole situation around.

The police had never seen a report that was more bizarre than this. A group of doctors examined the body and concluded that no one of the Riddles was injured by poisons, sharp weapons, or pistols, nor were they suffocated or strangled. In fact (the report continued in a noticeable tone of confusion), the Riddles and the three looked healthy—with only a little bit, they were all dead. The doctors noticed (it seemed to be determined to find something wrong with the body), and everyone in the Riddles had a look of horror on their faces—but as the policeman who had already at a loss said, who had heard that three people were scared to death at the same time?

Since there was no evidence that the Riddles were murdered, the police had to release Frank. The Riddles were buried in the church cemetery of Little Hungerton, and for some time, their graves were the object of curiosity. To everyone's surprise and doubt, Frank Bryce actually returned to his cabin in the Riddles' courtyard.

"I personally think that it was Frank who killed them, so I don't care what the police said." Dort said in the Hang Ghost Tavern. "If he was a little more tactful and knew that we all knew what he did, he would leave here."

But Frank did not leave, he stayed to take care of the garden for the people who lived in Riddle's house, and then worked for the family below - neither of them lived for a long time. The new owner said that perhaps partly because of Frank, they always felt that the place had a gloomy and scary feeling. Later, due to the uninhabited, the house gradually became disrepair and became dilapidated.

The rich man who owned Riddle recently did not live here or did not use the house. The villagers said he kept it for "tax reasons", but no one knew what was going on. However, the wealthy homeowner continued to spend money to hire Frank as a gardener. Frank is about to celebrate his seventy-seventh birthday, his ears are very deaf, and his bad leg is stiffer than before, but when the weather is good, people can still see him working slowly in the flowerbed, even though the weeds are spreading quietly to him, he can't stop him.

Besides, Frank is not only dealing with weeds. The boys in the village always like to throw stones into the windows of Riddle's house. Frank took a lot of effort to keep the grass level, but they rode their bicycles to stomp on it. Once or twice, they broke into the old house in order to make bets with each other. They knew that Frank was devoted to caring for the house and the garden, almost to a level of obsession, so they were willing to see him limp.

Through the garden, waving crutches and shouting at them with a hoarse voice, they felt particularly happy at this time. Frank, he believed that the boys tortured him because they, like their parents and grandparents, thought he was a murderer. Therefore, on that August night, when Frank woke up and saw unusual movements on the old house, he thought that the boys had come up with new tricks to punish him.

Frank was awakened by the pain of the bad leg. Now he is getting older and his legs are getting worse. He gets up from the bed, goes downstairs and walks into the kitchen, trying to fill the hot water bag and warm his stiff knees. He stands by the pool and pours water into the kettle, looking up at Riddle's mansion, and he sees the windows upstairs shining. Frank immediately understands what's going on. The boys broke into the old house again, and the light and darkness are shimmering, and it can be seen that they are still igniting fire.

Frank had no telephone installed in the room. Since the police took him to interrogate for the sudden death of Riddle's family, he had a deep sense of distrust of the police. He quickly put down the kettle, dragged the bad leg, returned to the upper floor as soon as possible, put on his clothes, and then returned to the kitchen. He took the rusty old key from the hook by the door, picked up the crutch leaning against the wall, and walked into the night.

The front door of Riddle's house showed no sign of forcibly entering, and the windows were intact. Frank limped around the back of the house, stopped by a door that was almost completely covered by ivy, took out the old key, inserted it into the keyhole, and opened it silently.

Frank walked into the large, dark kitchen as big as a cave, and he hadn't come in for many years. However, despite the darkness around, he still remembered where the door leading to the corridor was. He groped and walked over, and a rotten smell came to his nose. He raised his ears and captured every footstep or speech above his head. He came to the corridor, where there were large mullion windows on both sides of the front door, which were somewhat light. He began to go upstairs, thinking that thanks to the thick dust on the stone steps, his footsteps and crutches were dull and not easily noticed.

On the stairs platform, Frank turned to the right and immediately saw where the intruder was. At the top of the corridor, a door was open with a crack, and a flashing light shot out from the crack, casting an orange-yellow light on the black floor. Frank leaned sideways, approaching little by little, holding the crutch tightly in his hand. A few steps away from the door, he could see the scene in a narrow crack in the room.

He saw now that the fire was born in the fireplace. This surprised him. He stopped and raised his ears and heard only the voice of a man coming from the room, which seemed timid and scared.

"There is still in the bottle. Master, if you are still hungry, just drink a little more."

"Stay for a while," said another voice. This was also a man-but his voice was strangely sharp and as cold as the wind. Somehow, the sound made Frank's hair stand up behind his neck. "Turn me to the fire, the worm's tail."

Frank pressed his right ear to the door, trying to hear it more clearly. There was a clang of a Shi bottle on something hard, and then the harsh rubbing sound of a heavy chair dragging across the floor. Frank caught a glimpse of a small man, pushing a chair with his back to the door. He was wearing a long black cape and had a bald piece on the back of his head. Then he disappeared again.

"Where is Nagini?" asked the cold voice.

"I-I don't know, master." The first voice said nervously, "I think it's probably looking around in the house..."

"Before we go to bed, you feed it milk and the worm tail." The second voice said, "I need another meal at night. I've exhausted me along the way."

Frank frowned, and then put his ear on the door and listened hard. The room was quiet for a moment, and then the man called the worm tail spoke again.

"Master, can I ask, how long do we have to stay here?"

"A week," said the chilling voice, "maybe it will be longer. The place is quite comfortable, and the plan cannot be implemented. It is unwise to act hasty before the end of the Quidditch World Cup."

Frank put a rough finger into his ear and turned it a few times. It must be that the earwax accumulated too much, and he actually heard the strange word "Qidditch" and it was nothing at all.

"Quidi - Quidditch World Cup, Master?" said the Tortoise. (Frank used his fingers to snatch his ears harder.) "Please forgive me, but I - I don't understand - why should we wait until the end of the World Cup?"

"Follower, because at this time, wizards flocked into this country from all over the world. All the nosy guys from the Ministry of Magic came out. They stood guard and kept a watch, paying attention to any abnormal activities, and repeatedly checking everyone's identity. They were all thinking about safety and safety, fearing that the Muggles would notice. So we had to wait."

Frank no longer cleaned his ears. He heard the words "Ministry of Magic", "wizard" and "muggle". Obviously, these words have mysterious meanings, and as far as Frank knows, only two people can speak code words: spies and criminals. Frank clutched the crutches more tightly and listened more concentrically.

"So, the master's determination has not changed?" Worm Tail asked softly.

"Of course it hasn't changed, insect tail." The cold voice now had a threatening tone.

Then there was a moment of silence - and then the worm tail spoke, and his words poured out of his mouth like a turbulent river, as if he was forcing himself to finish his words before losing his courage.