HP in the name of Slytherin

The flower hall of Armand Palace is a flower hall in the true sense. On the south side of the first floor of the palace, there is a living room with large floor-to-ceiling windows.

Using an unknown thermal insulation magic circle, the temperature here is completely like a comfortable spring. It is filled with harmless pink and white roses. As soon as the door is opened, there is a very elegant floral fragrance, which makes people feel very happy.

"Great thermostatic circle," Catherine said as she sat down.

Abraxas curled his lips and smiled, "It is an honor for the producer to be appreciated by you."

He personally poured a cup of black tea for Catherine. When he lowered his head, his satin-like hair didn't even drop. He was simply an exquisite and perfect man.

Catherine held the teacup and took a sip, showing the same etiquette.

Even with a snow-white little basilisk wrapped around her legs and her head buried in her handbag eating secretly, she still shines like a dreamy star among the light pink rose bushes.

Voldemort saw her profile outside the door, so close and intuitive, he felt dazed for a moment.

But it was only for a moment.

Abraxas bowed his head to salute him, and then took Lucius away.

Catherine noticed it, but did not move. She just moved her eyes slightly towards this strange tall man, and moved away quietly for a second after seeing his face clearly.

He put his hand on the basilisk, as if he was playing with it, but in fact he was once again ready to draw his wand at any moment.

The man's face was full of mottled melting marks. Catherine had seen this state in books.

It is a manifestation of the repeated peeling off of the soul that is reflected in the body.

It was Voldemort, she was sure.

Voldemort walked towards her slowly. His body wrapped in black robe contained huge energy, and his magic power was like jumping magma, swaying wildly along the outline of his body.

Catherine looked into his scarlet eyes and smiled: "As a qualified gentleman, should I introduce myself first?"

She was sitting, much shorter than Voldemort, and even had to hold her head high in order to look directly at him.

But as if looking down at all living beings, this question is already a great compliment.

"You can call me, Voldemort." The man's voice was deep and low.

Voldemort looked down at the gray-haired girl. She looked really petite when she sank into the seat. The thick winter skirts with fox fur piping were piled on top of each other, making her look like a little fox that had transformed into a human form. From her soft hair to her clothes, No matter how you look at the feet in the handmade leather shoes, they are so adorable that you can’t put them down.

For this reason, Voldemort could lower his head slightly, instead of giving in or compromising. Catherine saw the look of a cold predator in his bright red eyes.

He regarded her as prey...or rather, as a pet or a plaything.

"I am Catherine Slytherin," Catherine stroked Herbo, who was staring at Voldemort warily, and raised her hand slightly, "Mr. Voldemort, why don't you sit down and talk?"

She gently supported her head on the armrest of the chair and complained slightly distressedly, "You are too tall. It makes me uncomfortable to keep looking up."

Voldemort stared closely at her exposed slender wrist, and said "Of course" in his throat.

The delicate wrist seemed to be able to be broken or crushed with just a slight bend.

"Miss Catherine feels very familiar to me," Voldemort sat next to Catherine and asked softly, "I wonder if Miss Catherine feels this way?"

Catherine turned her head slightly to look at him, her other hand still carelessly touching Haierbo on her leg, "I don't feel that way."

As he spoke, he smiled slightly, leaned back in his chair, and put some distance between himself and Voldemort.

The air that had been sticky since entering Armand Palace became thicker after Voldemort appeared. Like the world after a long period of rain, Catherine suspected that water mist would seep out of the smooth table tops and cup surfaces.

You might not be able to tell the difference at first, but after a few minutes, Catherine knew—

Someone is wrapping Armand Palace with a magic field, or rather, wrapping her.

It reads as a package, but actually it means an attack.

This cold and disgusting feeling does not seem like a positive emotion. I have been secretly attacking her for more than two hours. Do you think you have succeeded now? Or do you realize you failed?

Sensing the other party's magic field, Catherine immediately knew that her own magic power was not as good as the other party's.

When she saw Voldemort, she was even more sure.

Others would be weakened if their souls were stripped off, but he seemed to be getting stronger every second. With Catherine's current body, there was no way she could defeat Voldemort.

Unless Haierbo comes, Haierbo may lose control.

The only good thing is that Voldemort's magic field seems to have no effect on her.

This isn't right.

She retreated calmly, which was like retreating in such a scene. Voldemort's eyes were filled with interest, and he came closer, like a poisonous snake following its prey closely.

Catherine frowned and said, "Mr. Voldemort, don't you think it's a little perverted for you to treat an 11-year-old girl like this?"

The magic field surrounding her like a cocoon tightened suddenly, and Catherine could clearly feel the magic stagnating in the air for a second.

Her tense body slowly relaxed, her smile became more friendly, and she looked at Voldemort, who looked grim.

"I was so surprised," Voldemort said slowly, stepping back, "I'm sorry."

The body stepped back, saying sorry, but the magic field continued to strengthen, as if it wanted to crush Catherine into a pulp in this way.

It was so strong that Catherine could vaguely see it.

But she just felt uncomfortable and did not feel affected or controlled. She knew very well that her consciousness was awake now.

Catherine smiled and said to Voldemort: "I accept your apology."

Voldemort frowned and suddenly stared into Catherine's eyes.

The scarlet and gray-blue pupils met, and at this moment, the two of them used silent Legilimency at the same time.

one second...

Two seconds...

Haierbo slowly moved his tail. He was so nervous that he hadn't moved for a long time, and his tail was stiff. He looked at Catherine with his little eyes, and then secretly looked at Voldemort.

——Nothing happened.

——Nothing.

The smile on Catherine's face became gentler, making Voldemort's expression extremely ugly.

"Is Mr. Voldemort feeling unwell?" she asked thoughtfully, tilting her head slightly.

Voldemort's fleshy face twisted into a weird and ugly smile, "It's not bad."

He stood up, lowered his eyes and said to Catherine, "I have some official duties, so I'll excuse you now."

Saying that, he was about to leave.

Catherine only remembered the annoyance and fear he had inadvertently revealed when he looked at her just now.

It’s no longer the attitude of looking at a plaything.

When he found out that his magic couldn't be used on her, his first priority was to evacuate.

"Mr. Voldemort," Catherine stopped him instead and asked with a smile, "Why did you lose your name? Do you not like it?"

why?

Of course because he is mixed race.

A pure-blood Slytherin asked this, it was completely provocative!

Voldemort suddenly turned his head, "Avada Kedavra!"