Little Hangleton, England.

On a hillside sat a large, old, dilapidated house, with several windows sealed, roof tiles in pieces, and creepers crawling all over the walls with their teeth and claws.

But the villagers here know that the house, called Riddle House, was once a beautiful mansion and the most spacious and imposing building within a few miles radius, but now it is damp, desolate and uninhabited for many years.

The villagers of Little Hangleton agreed that the old house was "weird and scary."

Half a century ago, a bizarre and terrible thing happened here, and until now, when the elders of the village have nothing else to talk about, they like to pull it out and talk about it-

Fifty years ago, when Riddle House was still gorgeous and magnificent, on a clear summer day, a maid walked into the living room and found the Riddle family of three dead.

The villagers suspect that Frank, the Riddle's gardener, killed the family of three, as he has an odd temper and easy access to the keys to the inner courtyard.

However, when the autopsy report came out, Frank cleared his suspicions:

None of the Riddles were injured by poison, sharp weapons, or guns, nor were they suffocated or strangled. In fact, all three of Riddle's family appeared to be healthy — except for one point, when they all died.

The doctors who performed the autopsy noticed that everyone in the Riddle family had a look of horror on their faces...... But who has ever heard of three people being scared to death at the same time?

Later, the Riddles were buried in the church cemetery in Little Hangleton, and Frank Bryce returned to Riddle House to live in his cabin in the courtyard.

Frank, the gardener, did not leave, but stayed at Riddle House, and chose to continue to take care of the garden for the owner who would buy Riddle House next, and then work for the next family......

Later, the estate came into the hands of the last owner.

He did not live here, but still hired Frank to continue working as the gardener of the estate.

However, due to the lack of human visits, the plants in the courtyard grew rapidly, and even the experienced old gardener Frank could not stop their growth, and could only watch the once luxurious mansion become dilapidated.

One night in the summer of 1994, Frank was woken up by a bad leg of his own.

He got out of bed and limped downstairs into the kitchen, trying to fill the hot water bottle and warm his stiff knees. He stood by the pool, filling the kettle with water as he looked up at Riddle House.

There seemed to be a glimmer of light in the upstairs windows.

Frank thought the village boys had broken into the old house again, and the light flickered and flickered, and he could see that they were still on fire.

Frank quickly put the kettle down, dragged the bad leg, and returned upstairs as quickly as he could, took an old rusty key from the hook by the door, picked up the cane leaning against the wall, and went into the night.

Although the current owner of this mansion does not care much, he himself is employed after all, and he cannot sit idly by and watch those naughty children toss here, and is even more worried that they will set fire to the old house where he has lived for decades.

….

Frank walked to the front door of Riddle House and found no sign of a forced entry, and the windows were intact.

So he limped around the back of the house again, stopped at a door that was almost completely obscured by a creeper, pulled out the old key, *** keyhole, and opened it silently.

Frank walked into the cavernous kitchen on crutches.

He hadn't been in in years. Still, despite the darkness all around, he remembered where the door to the hallway was. He fumbled his way over, and the smell of decay came to his nose.

Frank pricked up his ears, catching every trace of footsteps or speech overhead. He came to the hallway, where the tall windows on either side of the front door let in a little of the moon's rays.

He began to go upstairs, thinking to himself that thanks to the thick dust that had accumulated on the stone steps, his footsteps sounded

and the sound of crutches is muffled and not easily noticed.

On the landing of the staircase, Frank turned to the right and immediately saw where the intruder was.

At the very end of the hallway, a door opened a crack, and a shimmer of light cast out of the crack in the door, casting an orange-yellow light on the dark floor.

Frank leaned sideways, cautiously approaching little by little, clutching his cane tightly in his hands. A few steps away from the doorway, he could see the room in a narrow slit.

He saw it now, and the fire was born in the hearth. This came as a surprise to him, because the mischievous boys usually liked to light fires everywhere rather than in the fireplace.

He stopped, pricked up his ears, and heard only the voice of a younger man in the room, which seemed respectful compared to the mischievous boys.

"Master, how are you recovering now?" He asked.

Frank was stunned for a moment.

In this day and age, is there still a term that only the old era would have adopted as "master"?

"It's okay, not too good, but not too bad either." Another voice said.

This is also a man—but his voice is hoarse and strange, and as cold as the wind. I don't know how, it was just the sound that made the thin hair on the back of Frank's neck stand on end.

"Speaking of which...... I'd like to thank Dracula for that nasty fellow." The cold voice sneered, "If he hadn't cornered me, I wouldn't have had the opportunity to come into contact with that other world so quickly."

"The Lord of the World told me that this ring on my hand is an amazing thing......

The conversation inside aroused the curiosity of the aged Frank, who pressed his right ear to the door to hear better.

There was a sound of footsteps in the room, followed by the sound of water being poured into a cup. Through the crack in the door, Frank caught a glimpse of a pale young man with yellow hair, who was carrying two glasses of water to the other side of the room.

He was wearing a long black cloak, and his expression and temperament had an indescribable madness and abnormality, in short, completely out of step with a normal person who was sober and rational.

"How's the plan going?" The cold voice asked.

….

"I'm all right, master." The first said confidently, "But I don't understand one thing, aren't you able to regain your body and strength now?" Why ......?"

"Because that troublesome Potter has his mother's bloodline magic in his body that was directed at me." The second cold voice said, "I must restore my body with Potter's blood to avoid the recurrence of what I can't touch him!"

Frank frowned, pressed his ear to the door, and listened intently.

He couldn't figure out what the two men were talking about, who they were, where they came from, or why they had come to Riddle House.

There was a moment of silence in the room, and then the young voice spoke again.

"Master, may I ask how long we are going to stay here?"

"A week," said the chilling voice, "maybe longer. It's a cosy place, and since the plan can't be implemented yet, it's not wise to rush into action before the end of the Quidditch World Cup."

Frank reached into his ear with a gnarled finger and spun it a few times.

It must have been too much earwax accumulation, and he heard such a strange word as "Quidditch", which didn't sound like a serious word at all......

"Quidditch World Cup, master?" The young voice said, "You want to wait for the World Cup and cause chaos in the most crowded places?"

"No, I haven't had the idea of startling snakes for a while." The cold voice said, "I just don't want to be with those Aurors who are stepping up their patrols."

"Every time it comes to this, wizards come to life

The whole world poured into the country, and all the nosy guys of the Ministry of Magic were dispatched, and they stood guard, keeping an eye out for unusual activity, and checking everyone's identity repeatedly."

"They are all about safety and stability, for fear that the Muggles will notice something. So we'll have to wait a little longer, and it doesn't matter if we do it after the World Cup is over."

Outside the door, Frank stopped picking his ears.

He heard the words "Ministry of Magic", "wizard" and "Muggle" with unmistakable accuracy.

Obviously, these words have mystical connotations, and as far as Frank knows, there are only two kinds of people who can speak code words: spies, criminals, or psychopaths.

Frank clutched his crutches tightly and listened intently.

"Master, I think you should find another obedient servant to take care of you," the young voice whispered, "and I will soon be on my mission, and you will need someone else to take care of you."

"Why don't you bring those hidden Death Eaters and let them serve you?" He asked.

"There's no need, Barty." The cold voice finally called out the name of the young voice's owner, "Who knows what those wallgrasses are thinking? Maybe some people want me to die, and then they're going to be completely gone......

There was a moment of silence - and then the young man named Barty spoke again.

….

"Those who choose to betray will get the price they deserve." He said, "When I finish this mission, I'll help you get rid of those traitors myself!"

"Very well, I appreciate your kindness, Barty." The cold voice whispered, "But you don't need to think so much now, you just need to complete the things I told you, and the rest will be talked ......about later."

"Yes, master." Barty said.

"By the way, when you get to Hogwarts, in addition to keeping an eye on Dumbledore and Dracula, you can help me focus on Severus." The cold voice whispered, "Severus Snape, Potions Professor and Head of Slytherin...... That's a lot of titles, so go and see what he thinks."

"Yes, master." Barty bowed, "If Snape shows any signs of betrayal, I'll kill him with my own hands!"

「……」

Outside in the hallway, Frank suddenly realizes that his hand clutching his cane is soaked with sweat. These two people don't seem to have any shredging about killing, and when they talk about it, they don't care in the slightest.

These two are dangerous – they are definitely two outlaws.

And they're planning to kill and capture more people - the boy, a student named Harry Potter, Frank doesn't know who he is, but knows he's in danger right now......

Frank knew what he had to do. At this time, he had to find the police, so he had to sneak out of the old house and go straight to the phone booth in the village......

But the cold voice spoke again, and then Frank stayed where he was, as if he was frozen, and listened with great concentration.

"Wait, Barty, don't make a sound...... I seem to hear someone else breathing outside the door......" The cold voice suddenly spoke, "It just so happens that I still lack a Horcrux, and I'm looking for a guy to come to the door to kill me!"

Hearing this, Frank's whole body froze.

What he longs for most now is that he never gets out of bed, and goes straight back to bed with a hot water bottle.

His legs seemed to be unable to move, his heart was beating fast, and he stood there stiff, shivering. He tried to control himself, but tried and failed.

Frank had no chance to hide, and there was a sound of footsteps inside, and the door was opened!

The blond-haired, pale-faced, maniacal-looking young man stood in the doorway, and Frank followed behind him to see a strange man with no nose and no hair looking at him with a sneer.

That strange man even has a somewhat transparent body!

Barty beckoned Frank into the room

Inside.

Frank, trembling all over, clutched his crutches and limped across the threshold.

The hearth fire was the only source of light in the room, casting long, cobweb-like shadows onto the walls.

"You heard everything, Muggle?" The cold voice asked.

"What do you call me?" Frank said loudly. He used to be a soldier, and he can still bring up some courage in times of crisis.

"I call you a Muggle," the voice said coldly, "that is, you're not a wizard."

"I don't know what you mean by wizard." Frank said, his voice getting more and more steady, "All I know is that what I heard tonight was enough to get the attention of the police - you guys are planning a killing!"

"I'll tell you," he said in a flash of inspiration, "my wife knows I'm here, and if I don't go back—"

"You don't have a wife," the cold voice said slowly, "and no one knows you're here. You didn't tell anyone you were here. Muggles, don't lie to Lord Voldemort, he knows everything...... I know everything......

"What did you say?" Frank said roughly, "My lord, huh? Hmph, I don't think you're an adult, you're a monster! I've never seen someone as ugly or weird as you!"

The next moment, the strange-looking guy suddenly raised a stick.

"avadakedavra!"

A blinding green light flashed, and Frank Bryce collapsed to the ground. He was dead before he fell to the ground.

Meanwhile, two hundred miles away, Harry Potter awoke from his dream.

……

……

Ripples of dust