Hogwarts: Atypical Slytherin

"What - what -?" The red-haired boy hiding in the corner suddenly exclaimed after seeing him.

The boy's fussing voice sounded from inside the carriage: "Did Clooney win the lottery too?"

What won the prize?

Lupine pulled his chin and looked over.

"Harry has been like this ever since he met that monster," Neville said.

"Yes," Ron trembled, "I mean, has this happened to Clooney too?"

"Probably not." Lupine sat next to them, "She just worked with me for a while, and she is too tired now."

Well, as Miss Albert usually has a bright and majestic image, she is indeed unlikely to win the lottery for this kind of thing like Harry.

They looked left and right, and finally decided to leave their position to the two little wizards who had fallen down and were not sure whether they were injured. The children crowded on the other side, and Lupine thoughtfully moved Miss Albert's head to his thick but worn windbreaker.

Cold sweat gradually broke out on Miss Albert's forehead. It seemed that instead of getting the relief of rest, she was carrying more.

Dementors will affect relatively vulnerable people, but as long as they come into contact with them, they will more or less suffer from some physical weakness.

The impact brought by the magical animals themselves is enough for wizards to digest well.

Lupine distributed the chocolates to the awake children and exhaled, hoping that things would get better after arriving at Hogwarts.

He didn't have any warning about encountering such a thing right after school started.

Frowning, Miss Albert heard other sounds.

That sound was different from the steady sound left by the train's steady and orderly tapping on the sleepers of the railway track.

But it did provide her with a spiritual habitat for a long time, guiding her so gently in a certain direction. From a certain moment, white noise with a pink background became entangled with it.

The voice said:

"Lawley, my girl."

"Claudine."

"Ah..." Miss Albert sighed softly, "I will never forget this."

He was the brightest color in Miss Albert's life.

The fog in front of her eyes was clear and clear, and every detail of their past was etched in her mind. There was no need for dreams at all. Even when she was awake, such cruel scenes were still vivid in her mind.

Indeed, indeed, she did live with the pain of losing him. But this kind of pain originally became dull with the passage of time and the replacement of new people.

But why is it becoming so intense at this moment?

Those eyes reflected her face through the glass without any light, which was fake. She had never really seen herself in such a scene.

The heterochromatic pupils spread out, showing no sign of life.

From a voiceless body to a skeleton, without the influence of other environmental factors, it only takes seven months at most. It is difficult for non-professionals to evaluate the appearance of the person who has put together the body.

"I don't want to see this." Clooney closed her eyes in the dream, but the content of the dream would not stop appearing in her mind just because she closed her eyes.

In other words, when she realized she was in this place, the scene of being skinny and covered with flying insects and white larvae played over and over again just like it had appeared in her memory countless times before.

"You want to see this." Another cold voice repeated in her ear, "You want to see this."

"You never wanted to forget," the voice said.

"Forgetting is a coward's act."

"Then escaping isn't it?"

"I've never run away from him!"

"You don't have one?!"

The voice continued: "Don't you want to kill him? Don't you want to torture him? Don't you want him to scream and cry in front of you, regretting it, and then deprive him of everything in hope?"

That voice meant something, and seemed dissatisfied with her recent actions. The tone was full of sharp sarcasm, as if he wanted to take something from her.

"I..."

Amid her violent breathing, someone was slowly patting her chest with a gentle but strong hand.

"Wake up, child," the soft voice called insistently, "Wake up."

It's still the same weathered face, with the brown eyelashes that tend to be white, illuminated by the lights of the carriage, glowing with white light, a bit familiar. His brown eyes were full of apology and worry.

Miss Albert, who had just woken up, even confused the skeleton with everything in front of her eyes. It was not until she opened and closed her eyes again that the remaining images faded from her retinas.

Professor Lupine lowered his head and looked at her worriedly: "Sorry, Clooney, I underestimated the power of the dementors."

"Are you having a nightmare?" he said. "I'm sorry to wake you up, but you look bad."

"Dementors? But I used the Patronus Charm?" Clooney blinked rigidly, forcing himself to use this action to hide the fact that he had not adjusted to his sobriety so far.

Her tone could not be described as good. No one could tell her state through her hoarse throat, "Shouldn't it be affected?"

"Maybe your patron saint played with that dementor for a long time." Professor Luping said, "I guess the things that the dementor brought when he died were not cleaned up and may have been brought back."

"Haha." Miss Albert laughed dryly, "Then can I ask for compensation from the Ministry of Magic?"

Unexpectedly, she still had the energy to joke, so she felt a little more relaxed. Lupine couldn't help but laugh, and helped Miss Albert sit up from her knees, and then answered her: "Maybe you can try it."

He put a piece of chocolate broken into strange shapes into her hand. I don’t know whether it was because it was held for a long time or because it was placed on the inside of the jacket. The chocolate showed signs of melting and felt a degree softer: "Maybe you can eat some chocolate to supplement it."

Fortunately, it was not melted into syrup... Miss Albert rubbed her dull temples. She felt that her head was as painful as if she had stayed up late for several days without rest. This sense of crisis made her think a little. vomit.

Only then did she see the little lions surrounding her.

"We're almost there..." Harry looked at her sympathetically, "We're about to get off the bus."

Miss Albert exhaled deeply.

The midwinter has long passed. Although the spring cold is harsh, it shouldn't be so cold, right?

Shaggy Mr. Black was not around. Miss Albert glanced at the empty feet and suddenly remembered that the kitten might still be in Hellas's arms.

Eh. . What about the warmth of your knees?

Looking down the straight legs of the dark brown striped plush trousers that were leaning against her, what came into view was a pair of reddish-brown leather shoes with unknown leather. There was still some black gray matter left in the wrinkles on the toes. However, it is difficult to discern clearly what kind of material is inside.