[HP] I won't do this Dark Lord

What's the matter? "

Dumbledore was a little surprised, as if he didn't expect any friendship between the two of them who couldn't get along.But he still thoughtfully took two steps back to give them space.

Fiona watched Riddle silently.

People who passed by were attracted by this strange combination staying on the stairs, they kept looking back at them, and whispered with their companions.

At this moment, Riddle and Fiona didn't care about the attention of others, and they looked at each other fixedly, as if they were the only two of them on the stairs.

After a long time-

"The bomb dropped by Germany fell on my house."

Fiona's voice floated in the air lightly and finely like smoke, and seemed to have penetrated into Riddle's lungs without a sound.

He was startled.

She looked at him and smiled inexplicably, "Mrs Shafiq was blown to pieces together with the house, her husband lost both legs and was unconscious in St. Mungo's, Gedian was lucky, but one ear."

Riddle couldn't help taking a step forward.

The smile on Fiona's face at this moment made him feel like a snowflake swirling in the wind, and he didn't know why, but he wanted to reach out and catch it.

Fiona looked away, lowered her head and sighed softly.

"Sure enough..." The self-talk was hidden between his lips.

38. Strategy No.30 Eight-step Tom, don’t lie to me

The three were speechless for a while, and Riddle turned to Dumbledore, "What are you going to do now, Professor?"

"Ammando originally wanted to take Miss Shafik to St. Mungo's through the fireplace," Dumbledore said gently, looking at Fiona, who lowered her head, "but she would rather go to the Shafik Mansion first." See. So we have to get out of the castle so we can Apparate her."

Dumbledore's tone and expression were normal, but Riddle knew he must be muttering in his heart.

Normal people should rush to visit their parents when they hear the bad news. Who would calmly say that they want to go home and have a look like Fiona?

What to look at, to see if the house is still saved?

Riddle rubbed his temples, gathering some uncontrollable thoughts.

He thought for a moment and said, "Professor Dumbledore, if you believe me, please let me take her."

The glasses behind the lenses widened slightly, and Dumbledore asked in surprise, "Tom, have you learned to Apparate?"

Apparition is not a third-year subject, and he can master this magic by self-study at his age, which is not enough to describe it as a genius.

"Yes, Professor." Riddle said flatly.

According to the plan, he should have always maintained an excellent but not so special magical talent in front of Dumbledore, but at this moment he suddenly chose to expose it actively, and he didn't hesitate much.

The current sudden incident is obviously of great significance to Fiona, and it is impossible for him to miss this important opportunity that may increase his favorability.

Besides, I don't know what her current psychological state is like. If she really lets go of this source of danger, who knows if she will think wildly in a place where he can't see it, and directly clear his nearly [-] favorability points? .

If it is reversed this time, but back to two years ago, Riddle just imagined the scene of himself sitting on the Cavaliers bus leading to Little Hangleton, and his mentality would explode.

For any more reliable teacher, out of safety considerations, such unreasonable requests from underage students would be resolutely rejected, but Dumbledore, as a genius, also had a way of thinking that was very different from normal people.

He thought briefly, then asked Fiona, "Is that what you wish too, Miss Shafik?"

Fiona looked up and stared at Riddle for two seconds.

Riddle's heart tightened, not sure if this guy who didn't play cards according to common sense would refuse, but also thinking about what kind of excuses he would use to brazenly follow her if she did refuse.

While he was thinking, Fiona took a step towards him.

She crossed the distance she had always maintained with him in front of people, stood in front of him, and looked up at him slightly.

"Yes, I hope," she said.

Riddle heaved a sigh of relief, and joy sprouted in his heart, but this joy didn't seem to come entirely from seizing the opportunity, but was mixed with some other things that he couldn't distinguish.

Without thinking about it, he reached out and took Fiona's hand.

Feeling the coolness in his fingertips, he subconsciously rubbed his thumb on the back of her hand, bowed his head and smiled at her.

"Let's go."

When the two of them flung themselves from the twisted and squeezed space onto the road where the Shafiq Mansion was located, the night had just fallen, and there was still a hint of purple in the sky.

The sun had already set, but the moon did not show up, and there were only a few or two stars hanging in the empty blue sky.

The street lamps that should have been lit up in a row were all dimmed, and several of them fell down in a random manner. Only a bulb with a broken lampshade not far away flickered on and off amidst the sound of stabbing current.

Riddle supported Fiona's shoulders to make her stand firm. He looked up and saw that the street he had visited many times was already a mess, and there was still a filthy smell of gunpowder smoke, dust, and blood in the air.

The bombs were dropped one by one from the flying planes, so not every house was attacked, and in contrast to the surviving intact houses, the dilapidated houses that collapsed into a pile of bricks were even more tragic.

There were many Muggles standing outside, and no one noticed the two little wizards who suddenly appeared.

Most of them were cleaning up the mess with their hands in vain, looking for signs of a peaceful life in the past among the broken stones, and some were sobbing softly, which sounded like the aftermath of despair after wailing.

No one talked, only a thin whimper occasionally pierced the silence of the whole street.

Looking at the Shafik House sandwiched between two surviving Muggle houses, Riddle didn't know what Fiona was thinking, but he thought the scene was a bit ironic anyway.

But luckily, the house of Shafiq Mansion is long and lengthy, and the bomb fell on the end of the west side. The section to the west was seriously damaged, and the section to the north was not affected by luck. .

Half of it is ruins, and the other half is still quite grand, it looks like a mime show with black humor.

Riddle turned his head slightly, and Fiona beside her was quietly staring at the scene in front of her, her eyes were very calm, and her expression was as calm as looking at a painting.

As if noticing Riddle's gaze, she turned her head and smiled at him.

"That's my mother's room." She raised her hand, pointed her index finger far above the ruins, and then moved a little to the side, "That's my father's."

Then it panned for a certain distance, and pointed to the wall that stood upright in place, "That's my room."

She withdrew her hand and gently brushed the broken hair blown by the wind behind her ears.

The darkening purple at the end of the road was right behind her face, like a ribbon floating from her hair.

She put down her hand and continued: "I never believe in fate, but there are always times when the drama in life makes you wonder if there is another existence higher than us, like me, who likes to arrange things for others." Fate in the name of coincidence."

So you know this is immoral?

Riddle almost couldn't help blurting out.

"I'm also a little curious. Of course, I admit that it's an interesting little hobby, but what is your psychology that makes you so happy to play with others?" He tactfully asked the question that had been on his mind for a long time.

"You're asking me a question again, and you haven't answered my question last time." Fiona glanced at him with a half-smile.

How could he answer that he was a strand of dead soul living in a container that depended on her to survive?

Riddle shrugged and smiled back.

He thought Fiona would not answer, but heard her speak again: "Tom, you said we were the same kind, so, didn't you realize?"

"...What do you mean?" Riddle didn't understand what she meant.

Fiona looked at him and smiled, like she was laughing at how careless he was about his excuses.

"You are a 'dead' flame, and so am I." She met Riddle's eyes and said slowly, "You asked me why I didn't want to kill the Shafiks, it was because they were The only remaining existence that can affect me a little bit. Human beings are ugly, crazy and fragile. Unfortunately, I am also human, and I also have human weaknesses-I cannot lose my anchor point."

So, even though the Shafiq couple symbolizes unbearable and painful to her, she still wants to keep them, just to prove that her existence is not nothingness?

She paused for a while and continued: "Even so, I can't burn anymore. The only thing I can do is to be a breeze, and when I blow through other people's flames, I can feel a little bit of the light and heat of being alive."

Riddle pursed his lower lip.

She was no "breeze" to him.

She was the hurricane that twisted his entire world.

And, in the pre-rebirth world, what did she feel when she was blowing through his flame that hadn't "dead" yet?

The undigested wine was burning in his uneaten stomach, and the faint tingling made him exhale lightly.

With a smile, he asked casually, "Is there a flame that suits your taste? It will make you want to blow it a few more times."

Fiona tilted her head in thought for a moment.

"There are special ones, such as Alphard."

"..."

Riddle tried his best to control his expression so as not to deform it ferociously.

"I'm curious," he said softly.

"You should also know that his health is not good."

Well, not far from death.

"Maybe because of this, he was the one I saw