Hogwarts, this professor is too stable.

Well, let me see, this 11-year-old kid who even needs me to recruit students...

Falling to the ground is so sacred.

Jack Dolohov, he was the last child on Dumbledore's list.

Legilimency...

[At ten minutes past midnight, a light rain began to fall from the sky. It started to drip on the ground, and soon it hit the leaves of the trees like peas, making a non-stop sound.

In the splendid manor, a man was lying on the ground.

All the lights in the room were turned off, and it was pitch black, like a huge beast, swallowing up all the sounds in the world.

At this moment, there seemed to be only one cry of a baby left in the manor - a newborn baby covered in blood, held by the man in both hands.

"Master, this is my child. He will also become your most loyal believer in the future. Please give him supreme glory!"

The man raised his head, revealing his pale, twisted face and fanatical eyes.

In the darkness, a hand that was paler than the man's face stretched out and gently touched the baby's forehead. The man's deep voice was full of condescension, as if a king was facing his courtiers, "This You deserve it, Antonin Dolokhov."

After the words fell, green magic flowed on the baby's left arm, and green star-like things formed a skull. The python crawled out of the skull's mouth, like the tongue of the skull, dragging up the baby's body. 】

Moqier was slightly stunned. Even though he was as steady as he was, he couldn't help but be a little surprised at this time. Is that baby really the child in front of him?

But it was obvious that the memory of an eleven-year-old wizard who had not even entered school yet could deceive him.

Didn't Dumbledore tell me that all the people he welcomed were children from Muggle families? What was going on?

In that memory, the fanatical Death Eaters, the arm suspected of being the Dark Lord, and the Dark Mark should not be what a young wizard from a Muggle family should have in his memory, right?

Even if the boy himself doesn't know these memories, this further proves the authenticity of this memory.

Mochir didn't want to watch anymore. This was not something he should see. But if you think about it carefully, if these people brought the boy here, they would bring potential trouble here. If they don't know what kind of trouble there will be, then they are really too passive.

read on...

["Bella, I can't sense the master's magic power anymore. Tell me, where has the master gone?"

"I don't know, I will go find the master. That damn old guy Dumbledore and his people in the Order of the Phoenix must know what happened to the master. I know a family, Mr. and Mrs. Longbottom, I will do it now Go find them and ask them carefully."

"I'll go with you!"

"Oh, your son's crying will expose us. Antonin, he is only a few months old. You don't expect us to sit in the living room with Mr. and Mrs. Longbottom, drink coffee, and have a good communication. Give it to you. Leave enough time to comfort the children, right?”

"Just kill him."

"Are you crazy? This child has the supreme glory bestowed by his master on his chest!"

"Then throw it to the Muggle world. If we can come back, I will..."]

Crazy, a bunch of madmen!

Mochir complained in his mind about the memory he just saw.

Any wizard who studies souls will always have a sense of awe towards life. They know that the majesty of the gods is hidden in every independent soul.

Taking away a new life is the authority of gods and should never be carried out by humans!

A conversation between two Death Eaters on the night the mysterious man disappeared.

The Death Eater named Antonin Dolohov had such an indifferent attitude towards life, even the life of his own flesh and blood.

Killing one's own children, saying this is as casual as crushing a bedbug.

……

The next memories are all of this child's life in the Muggle world.

His grandmother, an old Muggle scavenger, picked him up and raised him. The devil's child met a kind heart and gradually grew into a kind person.

fast forward……

Mochir skipped all these things that had nothing to do with the wizarding world.

Until the day before yesterday, the night before Mochir came here.

[The wind in Southampton's harbor is melodious, and the lotus flowers in the Itchen River that runs through the city are in full bloom. The fragrance even reaches the slums on the other side of the river, diluting the stench of garbage that permeates the streets.

The little boy was holding a lotus in his hand, following a stooped old woman, and happily told his grandma that this lotus could dilute the sour smell in the house.

Grandma was dragging a cloth bag filled with bottles, cans, and waste paper in her hand, and walked slowly down the street with a smile on her face covered in wrinkles and traces of time.

It was already two or three o'clock in the morning. Two figures, one large and one small, walked forward slowly, walked out of the place illuminated by the street lights, and reached the end of the road - in front of a dilapidated house that was almost full of garbage.

Kaka…

This is the sound of a key unlocking the door.

as usual.

"You're back, little Dolokhov." A hoarse voice suddenly came from the dark room.

Grandma suddenly became alert. She tremblingly picked up a water pipe she had picked up a few days ago from the side of the door and held it tightly in her hand. However, her rickety figure made it difficult to tell. Is this a weapon or a cane like a metal water pipe?

Little Jack also put down the lotus in his hand and stood beside his grandma nervously.

He couldn't understand why his home, a "garbage dump" where no third person had ever appeared and no one even wanted to come in even in the slums, was visited by someone at more than two o'clock in the morning?

"who are you?"

The old woman's voice was a little trembling. People living at the bottom have always suffered from oppression from the top, and they have become accustomed to obeying. Even if their house is sneaked into, and it may even threaten their lives, her tone is completely different. The inability to be tough is a kind of unconscious humility, which comes from the accumulation of decades of life at the bottom.

Not a shred of confidence.

"I am this child's...well, you can think of me as his uncle. His biological cousin and I work for the same great person." The voice of the person in the darkness paused and walked to the side of the two of them. .

He was a tall and tall man, but he was wearing a mask and a cloak, and even his head was tightly covered by a hood, so he had no idea who he was.

Grandma turned her head and looked kindly at the child she had raised for eleven years.

"Are you going to take him away? I just saw this child talking. He is only that big. There is a note on the pocket of the clothes that wraps him. I asked someone to read it for help. It says Jack Dolohov. , I guessed that was his name..."

The old man gestured with her hands, and her tone was not angry, but rather relieved and happy.

This old woman, who had worked hard all her life, did not expect to get any reward after she found out that the relatives of her adopted child were found. She only had the simplest wish, that the child could live a better life in the future.

She never thought that the person in front of her would deceive her. Her time was running out and she was penniless. What could she lie to?

It looks a little childish and a little silly.

"Ma'am, I didn't mean to do this. I was just...his father and my joint boss once put something here for him..."

"When I first found this child, he had nothing on him except the clothes that wrapped him..."

Before the old woman finished speaking, the man in the cloak couldn't wait to walk up to the boy, roughly holding the child's left hand tightly, and kept chanting complicated spells in his mouth.

A skull mark appeared on the hand of the little boy Jack. The mark seemed to be alive. Deep in the two empty pupils, a big snake crawler was circling and twisting its body.

He yelled in pain. It felt like he had stretched his entire arm into a frying pan.

After a while, the man let go of his hand and muttered: "Master, someone has responded to us..."]

Mochir was a little reluctant to look at it anymore. He saw some shadows of his own past in this child.

Moreover, this child named Jack was brought to him alone. This alone already explained the ending of the old woman who adopted him.

That person who has experienced countless hardships in the world, but still has a heart as kind as an angel, has probably returned to heaven...

Mochir thought of the time when he had just traveled through time.

He is also an orphan, but he is not so lucky to be adopted. He lives in a Muggle orphanage.

In that public orphanage, the fat and bald director never hesitated to punish the children corporally.

Those children who were not well-behaved and dared to resist were almost all beaten with scars, and then died of freezing, starvation, or illness one night.

Good people are not rewarded, and the harm will last for thousands of years.

This extremely ironic folk saying is still recognized by people even in the future, let alone in this era when the legal system is not yet complete.

This can't help but make people sigh. This child who was born in the world of demons is lucky enough to encounter the warmth of an angel in the human world. I wonder whether such a fate is tragic or lucky?