Little Hangelton at night seemed peaceful and quiet, a lonely moon in the sky was exuding a soft light, a faint silver glow sprinkled all over the village, the life of the villagers here was very dull, but two or three years ago, they had one more after-dinner conversation, that is, Riddle House was completely abandoned, since the old gardener Frank of the family completely disappeared one night and never returned, Riddle House has since completely become a murderous house in the eyes of everyone, as long as there are families with children, parents will repeatedly warn their children not to venture there, that old house has been cursed, will bring them ominous。 Pen, fun, pavilion www. biquge。 info

So far, even though it has been a long time since Frank's disappearance, no one has dared to set foot in the old mansion again.

The rich man who owned the house for "tax" reasons didn't care that the gardener he hired was missing, perhaps he didn't know about these little things, and it was just one of the many properties in his name that was not worth mentioning.

The police in the township also pretended that nothing had happened, but a lonely old man with no relatives was missing, and he couldn't get on the wrong side.

Tonight, however, the desolate Riddle House welcomed a new guest, or perhaps the true owner of the long-awaited absence.

A cold night wind whistled across the ground, rustling the weeds of the same height as people on the side of the road.

A small man in a black cloak, cowering, groped his way along a winding path to the gate of Riddle's House, and as he walked, he kept looking around for fear of being discovered, and at the same time the wind blew his cloak with a "swish" sound.

"Wormtail, have you fallen to the point of fear of Muggles now?" a cold, snake-like voice came from the man's arms, in a mocking tone.

"Master, I'm just worried—" The man's voice was fearful and nervous, and his body was constantly trembling, and those who didn't know saw it might think that he was shivering from the cold.

But Peter Pettigrew himself knew that it was all about fear, and he was afraid of the man he was holding in his arms and wrapped in a bag.

Voldemort, his former master, was found by him.

"Where's Nagini?" Voldemort asked, interrupting Peter Pettigrew.

"Master, it should have gone somewhere in the house and hid it. Peter Pettigrew said respectfully, then pulled out his wand from behind him and said to the door of Riddle's House, "Ahora Cave opens." ”

The old iron door opened with a "creaking" sound, and the iron rods were covered with rust marks for too long.

The originally flat grass was left untended for a long time and became overgrown.

Peter Pettigrew walked inside.

"What were you worried about?" Voldemort's tone grew colder. "Are you worried about that old man, or are you worried about me being found?" Wormtail?" Voldemort's tone was extremely gloomy at this time.

Peter Pettigrew shook his head in a panic, "No, master, you'll be able to regain your strength soon." He said in horror that even though Voldemort was just a little weak and weak, Peter Pettigrew did not dare to be disrespectful to him, but became more and more respectful, for fear that he might anger him.

Then his only hope is gone.

Peter Pettigrew's fate is now completely pinned on the man in his arms, if he can regain his strength, then as a servant in the snow, of course, he will be highly rewarded, once he fails, he will only have a long life of escape, until one day he is arrested by the Aurors, and finally he will be greeted by the endless loneliness of Azkaban.

"You're lying. For some reason, Voldemort's voice at this time actually softened a little, became smoother, and had a slightly chilling smile.

Their journey was very embarrassing.

For some reason, shortly after Peter Pettigrew found Voldemort by communicating with his "kind", Dumbledore actually found their whereabouts, making them rush for their lives.

Voldemort, who is now in this state, has no chance of winning against Dumbledore.

In the forests of Albania, the two of them rushed to their lives, with the help of familiarity with the terrain, they could escape, no matter how powerful Dumbledore was, but in the boundless ancient forest, it was also difficult to find them accurately, relying on the spell on Peter Pettigrew, it could only work.

Voldemort looked furious, he had never been so embarrassed in his life!

Even more than a decade ago, when he killed the Potters and was nearly killed by the death curse, it was only his own failure, and not long ago, Dumbledore's pursuit was the first time he was chased like a lost dog.

Extreme anger brought extreme calm, and he could only choose to endure now, wait for his strength to recover, and then take revenge.

"Master, I didn't—" Peter Pettigrew felt his hairs stand on end, and hurriedly denied it.

"I don't mind, Wormtail, I can guess what you think. Voldemort's tone suddenly became broader, "I don't think you came to me because of your loyalty to me, did you?"

Peter Pettigrew's hands trembled like chaff, but he did not dare to relax in the slightest, because if he let go, his master would fall to the ground, and cold sweat covered his forehead.

"Look me in the eye. Voldemort said suddenly, and the pair of scarlet, narrowed eyes suddenly opened, and with unquestionable authority, ordered Peter Pettigrew.

Peter Pettigrew's eyes subconsciously looked at Voldemort, and then he found that his brain began to become groggy, and those eyes seemed to have magical power, so that he was unconsciously immersed in them, as if the black hole that absorbed everything and swallowed his sobriety.

"Oh, it looks like you're reluctant to come to me?" It didn't take long for Peter Pettigrew to come to his senses, and then he heard something that made him feel terrible.

"My faithful servant has given you such a good opportunity to assist you, and you seem to be coveting some riches that you don't deserve?" Voldemort's brutal voice sounded again, and Peter Pettigrew's body trembled again with each phrase he spoke.

"Master, that's, that's because—" Peter Pettigrew tried to explain, but found that whatever he said was nothing more than a pale quibble.

His master, having read the memories in his mind, was not left at all.

"It's ironic that a less loyal servant can easily find me, but a desperate servant can't do anything. Voldemort's voice grew sharp again.

Peter Pettigrew felt that his sweat had not only soaked his back, but had even spread to his cloak.

"But the Dark Lord is always generous to his servants, and for whatever reason, the disloyal servants have gone to great lengths to return to me", if that Malfoy kid hadn't persecuted you, would you want to postpone this plan to pursue me for another month, three months, or even a year, ten years?" Voldemort said predictively, which made Peter Pettigrew's heart hang more and more.

"Oh, I see that there are still quite a few witches who are secretly trying to send you a fortune, right, Wormtail? You are still envious of the friends you betrayed, and as a follower, how you longed to be like the people you followed, so you chose to betray them and take refuge in me. ”

In the darkness of the night, Moonlight had his back to Peter Pettigrew, but even so, he could still guess that the blood on his face had completely faded.

"Voldemort appreciates people who can judge the situation. At this moment, Voldemort's voice suddenly became pleasant.

"There's no shame in admitting your defeat, yes, Dumbledore didn't know how to find us and chased us to the ground, but what's the use? he's old, half a foot in the coffin, and I, even though I'm like this now, I'm still alive after all..."

"Master, you will definitely regain your strength. Peter Pettigrew said expectantly, with just the right amount of adoration and fanaticism in his eyes.

"The news you brought should be true, I didn't expect that even such a short period of wealth would allow you to get so much useful information. Voldemort said lightly at this time, "And I have confirmed just now, you are not lying, that news is true, no one can escape Voldemort's dementorship, right?"

Peter Pettigrew could only resist his unhappiness and nodded his head in response.

No one wants to have their memories checked, not even those who are close to them, because everyone has some secrets in their hearts that must never be shared.

"You seem to be a little upset?Wormtail?, I'm upset because I've searched your memories?" Voldemort said coldly, sensing his mood.

"No... Master—" Peter Pettigrew was about to explain, but was interrupted by a low cry from Voldemort.

"Nagini!" Voldemort's tone at this time was difficult to hide his panic.

Then a giant snake at least twelve feet long crawled rapidly, its broad body undulating like a wave, swimming quickly and touching the surrounding weeds to cause a rustling sound, and finally crossed the side of Peter Pettigrew, and with its thick body, it took Voldemort from Peter Pettigrew's hand, tied a knot in his tail, and the package containing Voldemort was hidden in it, looking very secure.

"He's here again, remember your mission, Wormtail. Voldemort's voice was cold.

"Nagini, go. Voldemort said, and then the serpent began to flee frantically with him, and ran out of the gate of Riddle House, and ran towards the nearby mountains and forests, and Peter Pettigrew immediately used his wand, quickly transformed into the form of a mouse, found the direction of another overgrown weed, and drilled headlong, and there were countless caves and crypts in the mountains and forests, enough for him to hide.

Just after the two left, not long after, a tall and thin old man suddenly appeared in the void above Riddle's Mansion, he was wearing a silver embroidered wizard's robe, the pale silver moonlight shone on his face, his beard was white, and his long white beard was about to hang down to his feet, at this time, his whole person seemed to merge with the moonlight, and he seemed to be transcendent.

This old man is none other than him. It was the man Voldemort feared the most, Albus Dumbledore.

The wise old man glanced at the entire mansion, saw that nothing was found, shook his head with a sigh, and then gradually disappeared into the air, as if he had never been here.

Voldemort, who was still breathing, cherished his life more than usual, and his perception of danger was more keen.

The arrogance of the past is the capital brought to him by his strength.

Arrogance without hole cards, that's stupidity.

In the night, Peter Pettigrew stalked in the desolate and dilapidated night, the dirty mouse body seemed to be particularly dexterous, nimbly shuttling back and forth from the scattered rocks and bushes, he found a few more of his so-called "kind", and after a short inquiry, Peter Pettigrew once again found his own cave where he could live for a short time.

The cave was wet and crawling with all kinds of unknown insects, and Peter Pettigrew thought that he was accustomed to this kind of treatment and could endure it, but the huge gap in his heart still made his heart start to breed different emotions.

It is difficult to go from luxury to frugality.

When he enjoys the glory of thousands of people's attention, he will always be a little unwilling to grovel to flatter and curry favor.

Peter Pettigrew now regrets that he had the opportunity to enjoy the glory all the time, but he didn't cherish that opportunity.

Even though Malfoy had warned him many times, he had been delaying his time, and finally tasted retribution, even allowing Voldemort to check his memories and learn of his disloyal past, which made him even more frightened.

How he missed the treatment he had received not so long ago.

In addition to regret, another emotion grew in his heart - hatred.

If it weren't for Malfoy's persecution, he would still be able to enjoy his hero's treatment with peace of mind, why did he have to go to the master who had been defeated twelve years ago?

That master was cruel and ruthless, if it wasn't for his own life, who would be willing to betray his friend?

Peter Pettigrew is such a person, he will not take the initiative to do evil, because he does not have the courage, and the evil he does is persecuted.

In this way, his conscience will be okay, and he can accept it all with peace of mind.

If Peter Pettigrew really returned to the wizarding world as undebunked as before. Presumably he would never have taken the initiative to find his master, he wanted to live a stable life, and even said that out of guilt, he might be doubly good to Harry.

But now everything is different, the boy is so unsympathetic, tearing up the ordinary life that he should have continued.

Peter Pettigrew even thinks he's a complete lunatic.

Isn't it good to live a stable life with peace of mind?

Peter Pettigrew asked himself if he had Malfoy's conditions now, he would never support Voldemort again.

His philosophy of life could not be more obvious - cling to the strong, and Voldemort at this time is unable to protect himself, so what kind of strong man can he be?

And Voldemort's command to him made his heart twisted, but he didn't dare to show it on his face, desperately suppressing himself, he thought that he had been a pet for twelve years, and he had been able to play a role similar to a slave very well, but he didn't expect that it was that short good time, which made him difficult to tolerate this role.

Just like modern people who are used to eating cooked food, they will not be willing to eat a piece of rotten raw beef.

Running under Voldemort, Peter Pettigrew was always on the lookout, not knowing when he would anger his temperamental master.

And then take him there and feed the snakes.

But now he had to do it again, for that was his only hope, and perhaps he had succeeded in resurrecting his master, and Voldemort, as soon as he was pleased, would have spared him leniently, and might even reward him.

Peter Pettigrew not only hates these two men, he also hates himself, why can't he control his own destiny.

"If I had been braver, maybe the outcome would have been different, right?"

Looking blankly at the intermittent droplets of water dripping from the mud and sand above his head, Peter Pettigrew's pair of gray eyes lost focus, and he thought a little distractedly.