Hogwarts: I am Voldemort

The entire island is filled with mist, and when you enter it, the dampness and coldness penetrate your whole body, making you shiver.

"Eat a piece of chocolate."

Moody took out a large piece of chocolate from the pocket of his worn coat, broke it off and gave each of Voldemort and Flitwick a small piece.

"It's really cold in here," Flitwick said, taking the chocolate. "I should wear more clothes."

"It's useless." Moody was very familiar with this place. He shook his head and said, "The dementors will suck away the happiness and bring coldness. You will know it when you get inside."

The two of them looked in the direction of his finger and saw a long castle in the misty distance. The dilapidated outer walls and green moss were very eye-catching.

"Wait a moment, the striker will pick us up. If we go in rashly, it will easily cause the dementors to attack." Moody reminded again.

This is why Dumbledore specifically asked him to accompany him. Azkaban is completely different from Hogwarts, and they need a guide who is familiar enough with this place.

"Also," he reminded seriously, "I know you all know the Patronus Charm, but unless your life is in danger, don't use it. Otherwise, it may cause a dementor riot."

Voldemort and Flitwick looked at each other, then nodded together to express their understanding.

While the three of them were chatting, a figure appeared in the distance, and he quickly came to the three of them.

"Mr. Moody, I'm glad you can come." The man said with reverence in his eyes.

"Dean Flitwick, I didn't expect to see you here." Admiration turned into respect.

"Senior Quirinas, I didn't expect you to come." Respect turned into joy.

"Okay, Marko, this is not the place to reminisce."

Moody spoke, and rudely snatched three breastplates from Markto's hands, keeping one for himself, and handed the remaining two to Voldemort, "Wear them on your chest to let the Dementors distinguish their identities."

Voldemort put the badge on his chest while awakening Quirrell who was sleeping deep in his mind.

"Who is Markto?" Voldemort asked in his mind.

"My junior," Quirrell said immediately, "I taught him the Patronus Charm when he was in seventh grade because he wanted to be an Auror, but later he became a striker."

"He knows you well?" Voldemort asked.

"No, I just gave him some advice, so we have some friendship, but I haven't seen him since graduation."

Voldemort asked for other details, and after confirming that Quirrell had no common secrets with the man in front of him, he let him sleep.

"I got the news that you are coming a long time ago, but there is a criminal who needs to be handed over, so I came out..."

Markto talked nonchalantly, and the three of them didn't respond much, and just walked all the way into the castle.

The dampness and coldness became more and more serious, and the happiness in his mind began to be sucked away. Voldemort felt that his whole body was not good - Lin Zuo's character was rapidly disappearing, and Voldemort's true nature was rising.

"Do you want to rest first, or..."

Before Marko could finish his words, Voldemort spoke first.

"Work, Markto, we are here with a mission."

After he said this, he frowned dissatisfiedly, and then forced out a smile, "Sorry, Markto, I have never been in contact with dementors, and I am not used to it."

"I know, Senior Quirinas, it will be difficult at first. Everyone will become irritable, but you will soon adapt. More communication can drive away bad tempers."

Marko said with a smile, but the smile looked a bit fake. It seemed that he was also affected, but it took him longer to adapt and he could deal with it more calmly.

"Communicate with the dementors as soon as possible and leave this ghost place as soon as possible." Flitwick said, and he didn't seem to be in a very good condition.

On the other hand, Moody was on the side. He always had a bad temper, but I don't know if he was affected by it.

Maybe this was a wrong decision, to suppress the true nature of the remnant soul... Voldemort said to himself in his heart, and followed Marko as he walked deeper into the castle.

"The people on the outer level are all guilty of lighter crimes. There are no dementors. They will leave after coming for a few months. They will not escape from prison and make their crimes worse."

As Marko introduced, he walked inside. After passing the first iron gate and entering the second floor of the castle, the air became colder and the speed at which happiness was absorbed was also accelerating.

"Most of the people on this floor have been imprisoned for a few years. There are not many people. The dementors guarding here are also relatively rational and easy to communicate with. I suggest you find one here."

He said, pointing deep into the dim corridor.

Everyone followed the direction he pointed, and through the dim candlelight on the wall, they barely saw a figure approaching them:

It is estimated to be more than three meters tall, wearing a cloak and hood, and the whole body is floating.

When you get closer, you can see the hands exposed from his sleeves - they are slightly shiny, gray, thin and scabbed, as if something died and was soaked in water to rot.

"Woooo..."

The withered wind surged out of the hood, and Markto stepped forward, letting the wind blow on his head, and then he turned back in pain.

"He said he is willing to go." He said, moving away from the Dementor, "I have communicated your purpose to them before, and this one is quite docile."

"We will listen to your suggestions, but we still need to know more. This is very important for the safety of the children." Markto agreed, and Flitwick asked, "How did you communicate with him?"

"Put your head close to their mouths and those winds will blow their thoughts into their heads."

After he finished speaking, he immediately added, "Of course, you have to prevent them from kissing. Sometimes they can't control their thoughts."

Flitwick nodded and asked, "How many dementors are there in Azkaban?"

"About a hundred, known." Markto shook his head and said, "There may be a few more deep in the castle, but no one wants to count them."

"How many Dementors are there on this level?" Voldemort asked.

"There are more than a dozen of them, and the remaining prisoners in the guard station are more wild and difficult to communicate with," Markto said.

"Go and take a look at those dementors." Moody suddenly said, "By the way, take a look at the prisoners I caught and make sure they have been punished as they should."

Flitwick glanced at Voldemort and saw that he had no objection, so he nodded in agreement.

"Eat some chocolate before leaving. It's even more sad inside." Marko said, distributed the chocolates, and then led everyone deeper into the place.

When leaving this floor, Voldemort took a look at the criminals in the cell. Most of them were sitting with dull eyes, looking like they were more zombies than humans.

"Be prepared, the dementors here don't like to wear cloaks, it's a bit ugly." Marko said, opening the door and leading everyone towards the darker depths.

Not far into it, we saw a dementor. Indeed, as Marko said, the dementor here did not wear a cloak and was very ugly:

It was skinny and shriveled, with no eyes. The empty eye sockets were covered with a layer of thin skin covered with gray scabs, and the mouth was a big hole with a dark interior.

He's so ugly, he's almost as good as the one without a nose... Voldemort thought to himself.

Those without noses need tickets~~~