[hp] stay out of it

After listening to Richard's satisfactory description of how he put Helen to death, I was stunned, feeling something was wrong... a little subtly discordant, and I still didn't understand why Helen didn't check the wardrobe where Vincent was hiding. Also, if Vincent has been living well, how did I, Jiang Jin, occupy the magpie's nest?

Even if the truth of Helen's death is fully revealed, those few innocuous and abrupt details still make people feel uncomfortable.In such a distraction, Richard had already closed the door with Vicky, and I realized that when I mentioned the incident three years ago, I originally wanted to euphemistically tell him that the recovery of the porcelain stone magic was gone. possible.

I thought so at the time—the night I saw Sirius in the third grade hiding behind the door at the top of the tower, I clearly felt the faint remnant of Vincent. Knowing his wish, he went to another world—bringing him Rich precious porcelain stone magic together.

(However, what happened later told me that I still took it for granted. Whether it is a wizard or a Muggle, the understanding of soul and memory is not very clear. Soul and memory are entangled with each other, regardless of each other, but they are independent of each other. Integrate into one... The realm of soul magic is too complicated, always surrounded by fog, so that the searching eyes can never see clearly.

Incomprehensible qualities of the soul...)

Richard, who left this small room, finally got the "bad news" a few hours later. I asked the house elf who came to deliver the food to pass it on to him. Don't think about it, he must be very angry. The direct manifestation of this anger is that he changed his mind. In order to deal with me, he left the job of dealing with me to Douglas.

Douglas came to the cabin alone, and unexpectedly, he didn't seem to care much about china stone magic.As soon as he entered the door, he recited the Cruciatus Curse angrily.Fortunately, my reaction was not slow, and I fell to the ground on one side.

He seemed to be very resentful towards me, and I noticed his snake-like eyes the last time I came in.

I couldn't avoid the second Cruciatus Curse. I felt overwhelming pain in every corner of my body, and my mind went blank. After the spell was over, I regained consciousness and found myself curled up into a ball and knelt down on the ground. It's sweat.

Douglas opened his mouth and asked me a question I absolutely did not expect:

"Who is White?"

I froze for a while before realizing that he might be asking about the nonexistent "Mr. White".

I recalled the few information about Helen Boyle in my mind, vaguely remembered that this was not her real name, and then came to a reasonable guess: "Are you Helen's... ex-husband?"

"You..." Boyle, who has been abused by his married wife who has been together for less than a year, now doesn't care about porcelain stones, and is actually full of jealousy. I look at his blue eye bags again, With his aging skin and decadent temperament, he couldn't help laughing: "You actually miss her? Merlin, you are really..." Good/cheap.

The following adjective was swallowed back by a fist, and Douglas seemed irritated by my contemptuous laugh. "Who is that man? Wizard? Mudblood? Muggle?" He guessed angrily, followed by another spell, and the memory in my mind began to surge uncontrollably, and finally stopped at the hanging Cupid In the living room of Arrow, that night of ecstasy/soul.

Dementia.

I came to my senses, dizzy, and then some hysterical Douglas said "Cruciatus" again.This time the spell lasted extraordinarily long, and when I gradually regained my strength, Douglas had already left, and I was left alone by the wall, with scratches on my face and arms from my excruciating pain. My head hurts like it's about to burst.

Maybe he had cast the Dementia Curse again?I tried my best to recall... No, it was the Imperius Curse. I confusedly told all the information about Sirius known to the public. Unexpectedly, those buried under the water and obtained from the original book The truth was not asked by Douglas.

I have no choice but to attribute the reason to "order" for the time being. It is also possible that the soul and body are not compatible enough.

I shook my head, went back to bed exhausted, and fell asleep right away.

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I opened my eyes, and in front of me was a smiling woman with curly dark gray hair and a familiar face, which I recognized immediately as Helen.

"Mom, what should we do with him now?" I felt my mouth opening and closing, asking the woman.

Helen's smile was beautiful, but the smile never reached the corner of her eyes: "Vincent, didn't you ask me who he is the day before yesterday?"

I looked back "subconsciously", and the familiar boy was the younger Bruce Boyle.I realize now that it seems to be Vincent's memory...but how?Hasn't his soul already left, after secretly seeing his father, Sirius, whom he has never met?

Helen asked herself and answered: "He is my son."

Bruce Boyle was sitting far away in the living room with a confused look on his face, not knowing what the two people in the kitchen were discussing.

Taking a deep breath, I stood in Vincent's perspective and felt that he was at a loss for a brother who suddenly appeared: "But...but, I...he is my brother?"

Helen stroked the hair hanging by her ears: "Yes, Vincent, I never told you... You also have an older brother——Bruce is the one with the purest and most complete bloodline among all French wizards." Contaminated by Muggle blood, it means that the name Bruce Boyle can be connected to all French (even including some now extinct) pure-blood surnames in the family tree.

A little jealous and a little scared, Vincent, who seemed to be only eight or nine years old from the reflection in the glass, stammered, "So... Mom... what about me?" Do you mean very well?"

"Pure blood is not good at all," Helen smiled and patted Vincent's curly head, "And you, your blood is also very pure..."

Vincent was a little confused. His mother was too gentle with him, and he was not sure whether it was good or bad for a while.

Helen rubbed Vincent's head, pulled him to the living room, and said softly, "Two little purebloods, let's play a game...will you fight a duel?"

Compared to Bruce's bewilderment, Vincent was a little excited: Helen led him and was used to killing, which made his temperament a bit worshiping the violence of magic.

With an unknown light in Helen's eyes, she straightened Bruce's collar, greeted a few words, and then returned to Vincent, who was a little jealous, and said, "Do well, let me see...you are my child after all, yes Your father's child..."

This was the first time that Helen mentioned her father in front of Vincent. I felt that Vincent's fighting spirit had obviously grown, and the "duel" with Bruce was more like a play, trying to show Helen a beautiful performance.

Satisfied with Bruce Boyle's vulnerability in front of Vincent, Helen dropped Bruce at the door of Boyle's house along the way, and she took Vincent back to her nest in England.Vincent looked at Helen expectantly, hoping that she would pick up the previous topic. Helen threw the long robe on the sofa and picked Vincent up.

"Your father also killed his best friend." Helen sat on the sofa with Vincent's head on her lap, and I saw her beautiful chin from this perspective, waiting for a fate that was not very good. bedtime story.

Today, Helen's own child beat the Boyle family's child, and she seemed to be in a wonderful mood.

"I didn't know your father's name until you were more than one year old," Helen said. "Sirius Black, the news all over the UK is saying one thing: your father is a villain who killed his friends..."

Vincent shook his head uneasily: Helen would also say that she killed her friend when she was drunk.

"The guy I randomly met in the old house where I settled down in France turned out to be of pure blood again, and at that time, the status of this surname in the British wizarding world where the Death Eaters were in power was not the same as that of the Boyle family. Up and down," Helen summoned a wine bottle and cup, poured it slowly for herself, "but your father was expelled from the family, it seems that he didn't want to join the forces of the Death Eaters... that's not bad."

Helen thought it was "good", probably not because Sirius refused to vote for the Dark Lord, but because he was expelled from the Black family...

"Your father killed his friends." Not long after Helen finished telling the story of Sirius' arrest, she suddenly looked a little melancholy (maybe because of the wine), "that couple also has a child...that child will definitely hate it. He, because he ruined his family."

"Smith and the others don't have any children." Helen was silent for a while, then suddenly said so.

She stood up abruptly, almost bringing Vincent to the ground. Helen put down the goblet, grabbed the robe and grabbed Vincent to go out again.Vincent raised his head and asked where he was going. From Vincent's perspective, I saw Helen facing the light outside the door with a somewhat sad silhouette.

"Damn it," Helen cursed firmly, "Of course I'm going to make amends to that child, instead of your father. I'm going to give him the most beautiful blessing spell in that stupid stone."

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After waking up, I realized that I seemed to have found a fragment of memory that didn't belong to me deep in my mind, and I vaguely felt that it was related to those vicious spells that had hurt my head too much.

This guess was soon confirmed: in the next few days, Douglas, who got the news of Sirius, let go of the problem of the green hat, and began to use various spells to try to get the magic of the porcelain stone out of my mouth, without success. One exception is giving my head a splitting headache - it's clear the Boyles haven't given up and are still holding on to hope - and the method does seem to work, but the few memories that pop up in my mind None of the fragments have much to do with magic.

When the headache had to become a habit, the only thing I could use to get by was the anticipation of those little memories stimulated by crude magic, and these memories gradually completed the last nine days of Helen's life. Year.

A day with little Vincent.

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==I couldn't write anymore, I clicked on the HP movie soundtrack to listen, but I couldn't write anymore.