At that moment, there was a rustle, followed by a click. Pen | fun | pavilion www. ｂｉｑｕｇｅ。 ｉｎｆｏ

A man in tattered clothes jumped from a nearby tree and landed right in front of Ogden.

Startled, Ogden quickly retreated, only to step on the back hem of his coat and nearly fall.

"Hiss!" the man standing in front of them made a strange sound fiercely.

The thick hair was tangled in thick dirt, and the original color was no longer recognizable.

He lost a few teeth in his mouth, and two small black eyes stared in two opposite directions.

He should have looked funny, but he wasn't.

His appearance was terrifying, very scary, and it was no wonder that Ogden took a few steps back before he spoke.

"Uh, good morning, I'm ...... Ministry of Magic"

"Hiss, hiss!" he cried, waving his wand and bloody dagger in his hand.

"Uh, I'm sorry, I don't understand you. Ogden said uneasily.

At first, Aven thought it was the man's meaningless voice, but now it doesn't seem to be the case.

It's a parseltongue!

This guy is Voldemort's uncle, Morfin Gaunt, a Parseltongue who can only speak.

It used to be a talent that Salazar Slytherin was proud of, but Evan knew from Elaine that no one among vampires could speak Parseltongue.

Perhaps, while becoming vampires, the snake part of their blood has been discarded.

Therefore, there are only a few people in the world who can speak the Parseltongue, which is a kind of bloodline inheritance.

Only a bloodline as strong as Slytherin, or rather, only a pure-blood wizard family as conservative as the Gaunt family and insisting on intermarriage, can pass on bloodline magic today, thousands of years later.

Others, such as the supposedly pure-blooded Malfoy family, have only one name left.

The Ravenclaw family's bloodline inheritance is for the supreme wisdom to abandon their own feelings, so the more prestigious Slytherin family, what is his complete bloodline inheritance?! It is certainly not just a parseltongue, but no matter how powerful it is, no one knows it now.

"You should see that, Aven?" Dumbledore asked softly, "yes?"

"Yes, Professor, it's a parseltongue!" said Aven, "what is he talking about?"

"Oh, I think it's probably Ogden unpopular or something, the family is notoriously restless and irascible and they don't welcome outsiders. ”

"Mother Voldemort's family, the Gaunt family......"

"Looks like you've done a lot of research!" Dumbledore wasn't surprised at all, but said happily, "Now please read on, it's very helpful for the rest of our journey, if there is anything to say about it." ”

At this time, Morfin, dressed in tattered clothes, held a knife in one hand and waved a wand in the other, and was approaching Ogden step by step.

"Hey, don't!" Ogden was about to speak, but it was too late.

There was a loud thud, and Ogden fell to the ground.

He pinched his nose with his hand, and a disgusting yellow, slimy stuff poured out from between his fingers.

"Morfin!" a voice shouted.

An elderly man hurried out of the wooden house and slammed the door behind him, the dead snake on it swaying violently.

The man was slightly shorter than Mofen, oddly built and disproportionately long, with too broad shoulders and long arms, and with a pair of sparkling brown eyes, short, stiff hair, and a wrinkled face, he looked like a fierce old monkey.

He walked over and stood beside Mofin, who was giggling with joy when he saw Ogden fall to the ground.

"From the Ministry, huh?" the older man looked down at Ogden.

"Exactly!" said Ogden, wiping his face and angrily, "I suppose you are Mr. Gaunt, right?"

"That's right. "He hit you in the face, didn't he?"

"Yes!" said Ogden, unhappily.

"I don't think it's his fault, you should have let us know when you came here, didn't you?" said Gaunt in a domineering manner, "this is private territory, can my son not act in self-defense if you come in so swaggering?"

"What does he have to defend himself?" Ogden said, struggling to his feet, "and I have no intention of hurting it. ”

"It's not just you, we've got some nosy people here, housekeepers, muggles and trash. ”

Ogden's nose was still dripping with yellow pus, and he pointed his wand at himself, and they stopped instantly.

Mr. Gaunt pouted and said a few words to Morfin, still in a parseltongue tone, which Evan didn't understand.

But Morfin understood what his father meant, and seemed reluctant, and wanted to defend himself.

His father glared at him fiercely, and he changed his mind, and walked slowly toward the wooden house with strange, staggering steps.

When he entered, he slammed the door shut, and the snake on the door swayed pitifully.

"I've come to meet your son, Mr. Gaunt!" said Ogden, wiping the last speck of yellow pus from the placket of his shirt, "that was Morfin, right?"

"That's Muffin. The old man said nonchalantly, his attitude suddenly becoming aggressive, "Are you a pureblood?"

"That's right, on both sides. Ogden said coldly, "But our family doesn't talk about that." ”

"Hmph!" said Mr. Gaunt, narrowing his eyes at Ogden's face, and muttering in an apparently deliberately offensive tone, "now that I look back, I have indeed seen your nose like that in the village." ”

"I have no doubt about that, since your son attacks them so casually. "Maybe we can go into the house and talk?"

"Into the house?"

"Yes, Mr. Gaunt, I told you that I came for the sake of Morfin, and we sent an owl......"

"Owls are of no use to me. "I never read letters." ”

"Then you can't complain and say you didn't know someone was coming. Ogden said bitterly, "I'm here to deal with a serious violation of wizarding law that happened in the early hours of this morning......"

"Alright, alright, alright!" Gaunt roared, "just go to the damn house, then you'll be much more comfortable!"

The house appears to have three small rooms, with the large room in the middle serving as a kitchen and living room, and two doors leading to the other rooms.

Morfin sat in a dirty armchair beside the smoky fire, fiddling with a live little viper between his thick fingers, humming a strange ballad softly in a parseltongue that Evan didn't understand, but as you can imagine, the lyrics weren't pleasant.

As they entered, there was the sound of slow footsteps in the corner of the wall next to the open window.

A girl walked out, her tattered grey dress the color of the dirty stone wall behind her, and she glanced at the strange visitor with a stiff glance at a steaming saucepan on a soot-strewn stove, looking for something in the filthy pots and pots on the shelves above the stove.

Her straight hair was dull, her face was pale, her appearance was mediocre, and her expression was very melancholy.

Her eyes were the same as her brother's, glaring in two opposite directions.

She looked cleaner than the two men, but she was just as listless!

Needless to say, she was Voldemort's mother, the beginning of all evil.