HP: Slytherin disguise

November.

The wind was biting and the cuts hurt people's faces and hands.

Comes with icy weather.

There was also the incident of a dozen people escaping from Azkaban.

What happened in the afternoon.

The Death Eaters went to Riddle House in the evening.

The wind howled, picking up rocks and branches, and occasionally hitting the windows.

The dark night was very dark.

A somewhat dark second floor.

At this moment, there were already many Death Eaters wearing black cloaks and hoods.

I can't see my face clearly either.

On the seat by the fireplace sat a man with a snake face.

The black robe on his body was very long and had been dragged to the ground.

A thick python was coiled at his feet, its yellow snake eyes wide open.

"You're a little late."

"Are you delayed?"

The cold voice echoed throughout the second floor.

It sent chills down everyone's spine.

Decorah, who had just walked in, had a silent expression on his face.

He is at the Alliance headquarters in Nurmengard, Austria.

Even if he apparates over.

It also takes a while.

Therefore, it is normal to arrive later.

Besides, this seems to have no impact, right?

But obviously.

Voldemort simply disliked him.

"come over."

Raising his hand, the coldness on Voldemort's face did not diminish at all.

Walked over.

Decorah hesitated for a moment, then gently knelt down in front of Voldemort.

He didn't say anything.

His actions express his entire attitude.

"Get closer."

Voldemort leaned his elbows on the armrests of his seat, leaned sideways, and played with his wand between his fingers.

There was no hesitation this time.

Decorah moved closer on her knees, very obediently.

With a chuckle, Voldemort said indifferently: "Do you know why I summoned you to assemble?"

Shaking his head, Decorah said he didn't know.

He really didn't know why.

By guessing, there must be something, or something happened.

"Azkaban, the prison break thing."

"do you know?"

Voldemort raised his feet slightly.

He kicked away Nagini who wanted to get closer to him.

Nagini hesitated and slid to the corner to stay with Peter Wormtail.

"I don't know..."

Decorah subconsciously wanted to reply.

Almost instantly.

His neck was pressed by Voldemort's hand.

Then touch gently.

It seems that I am looking for a good place to cut off.

Closing her mouth, Decorah shook her head hard.

Voldemort's expression slowly turned cold, and the strength of his hand increased, and he said coldly: "You are not in Hogwarts."

"Shouldn't we be at the Ministry?"

"I don't know about the news this afternoon..."

Eyes wandering.

Decorah suddenly lost the desire to speak.

At the same time, I felt relieved that I should keep my mouth shut at all times, and breathed a sigh of relief.

He really couldn't answer this question.

You can't tell Voldemort the truth, can you?

Is it...

Was it his Aunt Bella who escaped with other Death Eaters?

This also means.

The purpose of this gathering is to welcome these people...

After all, these are Death Eaters loyal to Voldemort!

I'd rather go to Azkaban.

No information is disclosed either.

Feeling Voldemort's increasingly cold eyes, a bad premonition arose.

Snapped--

The crisp sound of slaps echoed throughout the quiet second floor.

Those Death Eaters who kept their heads down and looked like wooden figures shook their bodies.

Then he pressed his head lower.

Wormtail wanted to laugh, but he was also too panicked to laugh.

Blood dripped from the corner of his mouth.

Decorah was clearly aware of Voldemort's violent and suspicious psychology and emotions.

His face was burning with pain, but he didn't dare to move.

He didn't even dare to speak out.

"I asked you to monitor Dumbledore at all times and pay attention to the internal information of the Ministry of Magic."

"I didn't let you leave without permission!"

Voldemort raised his hand with a cold expression and slapped Decorah on the face again.

The strength increased a lot.

Turning his head slightly, Decorah felt numbness on the left side of his face and was almost unconscious.

But he still didn't dare to move.

Move.

However, Voldemort did not intend to let him go.

Instead, he said coldly: "Do you know you have made several mistakes?"

Open your mouth slightly.

Decorah said softly: "I don't know..."

Snapped--

"I didn't let you talk!"

Voldemort almost didn't hesitate, raised his hand again, and slapped him again.

The obvious one is targeted.

Followed by.

Voldemort backhanded him and slapped him again, saying in an indifferent tone, "I don't know? Why are you so stupid?"

The broken lip corner started to bleed again, and Decorah's head began to hurt.

But he still didn't show anything unusual.

There was still silence on his face.

He was almost used to Voldemort's irritability and change of attitude.

Although he was slapped in the face, Decorah could only endure it and continue to remain silent.

Because, he knows...

Voldemort was punishing him for his words and insults.

Being called a Mudblood, for being a Dark Lord.

How could it just pass like this?

He was always targeting Decorah, no matter what.

Just a little something wrong.

You have to accept his anger.

Raising his hand, Decorah wanted to wipe the blood from the corner of his mouth.

But in exchange.

It was Voldemort's harder slap.

He was slapped to the ground directly, his vision went black, his head hurt violently, and his thoughts were extremely confused.

For a long time, I just couldn't get up.

After laughing coldly a few times, a smile instantly appeared on Voldemort's cold face.

He leaned forward and said softly: "Come here."

Looking up, Decorah couldn't see clearly, but he still got up.

Kneel at Voldemort's feet again.

"So good..."

Voldemort stroked Decorah's blushed cheek with his hand.

A fair face is inherently delicate.

After being slapped hard several times, bruises began to appear.

It seems so pitiful.

There is no way to start now.

But Voldemort was able to do it without any hesitation.

After what seemed like a gentle touch.

Then use force.

Slapping Decorah down again.

"A few mistakes are obvious, but you don't even know how many you made."

He glanced indifferently at Wormtail who was snickering in the corner.

Voldemort ignored it.

Instead, he continued to bend down and said in a gentle tone: "It's okay, just remember slowly..."

"come over."

This time, Decorah no longer dared to believe Voldemort.

In other words, he didn't believe it from beginning to end.

Just listen to Voldemort.

But being slapped really hurts...

The pain was burning, like adding salt or pepper to the wound.

Seeing that Decorah didn't respond to him for a long time.

Voldemort's expression became more gentle, and he stood up and knelt down.

Soft voice induces.

"Punishment is normal. After all, you did something wrong."

"Made several mistakes."

"You are a good and obedient boy who admits your mistakes seriously..."

"Come on, come on."

"Admit your mistake and there will be no punishment."