Vodai Ecstasy

03

The young man was woken up by the voice of the conductor. He sat up slowly from the bed, glanced at the messy bed and the still sleeping witch, the fire on the wall of the car was burning quietly, and the ghost sat Beside the bed, silently looking at the still dark night outside the old curtains.

Riddle lifted the blanket off his body and led the ghost out of the car without saying anything. The cold wind was still bitter, and he couldn't help shivering.

"But did you catch a cold?"

The girl's concerned voice sounded just right, and Riddle shook his head:

"fine."

The two walked for a while without a word, and the girl asked again: "Where are you going? Are you going to find your friend?"

"Friend? You mean Stian?" The boy didn't stop: "Don't you hate that cage?"

"Look at what you said, how do I know you didn't take me to another cage?"

The boy stopped suddenly, and the ghost froze for a moment, only to realize that they had gone around the dark church and came to an almost deserted cemetery.It’s only close, the rusted fence has been destroyed a lot, but there are still a few new graves outside, and the flowers on the tombstones have not completely withered, soaked in the dew of the night alone.

"I didn't intend to lock you up here." The boy glanced at the ghost with a playful expression, but his complexion was not very good: "You can wait for me here."

Daiyu frowned, seeing Riddle walking towards the cemetery without hesitation, she couldn't help but ask, "What do you want to do when you come here in the middle of the night?"

"I found that you talked more today than before." The boy squinted at the ghost, and bent his mouth: "Are you scared?"

"Those who have ghosts in their hearts are afraid." Ghost bit his lower lip and said angrily.

"Well, I'm afraid." The boy smiled and walked past those tall and exquisite tombstones, his steps slowed down in front of a cluster of low tombstones.

"Who do you want?"

"Merope... Merope Gunter" the boy shrugged, "It should be buried here." The boys and girls who died in the orphanage were also buried here, but he swallowed the last sentence into the stomach.

"your mom?"

Riddle couldn't help but look back at the girl, who was carefully identifying the name on the tombstone: "How do you know?"

"En?" Daiyu didn't stop what she was doing: "I don't know...it's just a feeling."

The boy didn't speak anymore, but the ghost continued to say: "I heard from you people that death is the fairest, no matter rich or poor, rich or poor, they will be taken away by it in the end, but look at this cemetery, the stone monument of the rich The wood of the poor, some people can’t even leave a name, so they are buried in such a hasty... It can be seen that there are many kinds of death, how can they be said to be the same?"

The boy frowned, as if he didn't like the topic.

"I've seen all of this..." The girl hesitated for a while, then asked, "Do you want to continue? Tom?"

"Don't call me that name." The boy stood among a pile of nameless tombstones and said coldly: "Call me Voldemort."

"Steal...death?" Ghost blinked: "Did you take it yourself?"

"Can't you?" The boy clenched his fists.

Daiyu burst out laughing: "It's very your style. If you want it, what's wrong with it?"

"I want them to call me the Dark Lord." Riddle pulled out his wand and said softly, "Did you know that most wizards are afraid of dark magic, just like Muggles fear magic, fear of using blood and bones They are afraid of seeing Ye Qi... In fact, they are just afraid of their own incompetence. If you want to achieve something in magic, it is impossible to just study such boring things as flying spells and transformation spells every day. Give those idiots in the Ministry of Magic a chance, they'll definitely choose to ban all magic they can't control, but that's just turning themselves into ostriches with their heads buried in the sand, you see, generations of wizards I was warned to stay away from the dark arts, but the school still has to learn Defense Against the Dark Arts, and the most outstanding wizards must also be proficient in black arts, if you don't even know what magic the other party will use, what can you defend against?"

"...so you want to learn those forbidden things?"

"Greatness breeds jealousy, jealousy breeds resentment, and resentment breeds lies." There was no other emotion in the boy's dark eyes: "And I just want to be great." He said, and drew a stroke on his arm with his magic wand. , Black and red blood flowed out quickly.

"What are you doing?" The ghost floated over in a hurry, but the boy didn't answer her, but continued to chant a spell, and the blood that fell on the ground moved quickly on the ground as if it had life, and quickly flowed to a dirt bag. , then penetrated into the soil.

Riddle waved his wand again, and the wound on his hand disappeared without a trace, only two bloodstains that hadn't dried up unwillingly clamored that what happened just now was not an illusion.

"Look, if there is no magic, we won't be able to find it until dawn." The boy looked up at the ghost, and then strode towards the dirt bag.

The dirt bag seems to have lost the appearance of a tomb at all. The sloppy crosses have long been scattered aside, accompanied by withered grass and rocks. No one has looked after this nameless tomb for more than ten years. No one knew that the mound was a tomb below which a young witch had been hastily buried.

Riddle suddenly wanted to laugh, and in fact he soon burst into tears: "Look, this is the descendant of our great Slytherin, and his last bloodline is here. But the Muggles who stained this bloodline Isn't it funny that she's giving her life to a Muggle while she's still alive and enjoying his life?"

"What are you crazy about?" Phantom couldn't help frowning and scolded: "If you think I'm an eyesore here, I'll just go. Why bother to play this?"

The boy sat on the icy ground with no image. He looked up at the girl who was about to leave, and suddenly there was no expression on the face that was still laughing wildly: "No, stay here."

"If you want to act, why don't you ask me if I want to watch it?" The ghost was still annoyed and didn't stop: "What do you think of me again?"

"My fault," the boy answered simply, "stay, Dai."

Daiyu sneered, turned her head and was about to scold this boy who didn't know what manners were, but she was caught off guard and met the boy's eyes, serious and clean, completely different from his usual calculating and domineering, something she was no longer familiar with Feelings, she opened her mouth, but found that she could no longer say a harsh word.

She stopped.

The boy didn't speak any more, he just looked at the mound in front of him quietly, and sat for an unknown how long, until the ghost's arms wrapped around his almost frozen shoulders, and he suddenly realized that the sky was nearly turning white.

He couldn't help but leaned back a little, letting his whole back be close to the warm and cool air.

The ghost quickly retreated unhappily, and she turned to him, trying to pick up the decayed cross.

The boy watched the ghost's actions silently. It was obvious that picking up such a cross was beyond her strength. She tried several times, but each time she could barely lift the piece of rotten wood off the ground.

Riddle waved his wand again, and the piece of wood stood back on its own, and the mud fell from the wood. After a while, a clean tombstone with a cross appeared in front of them again. The boy waved his wand again, A bunch of light blue flowers hung on the cross out of thin air.

He stood up, the morning light became brighter, and the ghost's body became clearer, and he could see through her the large and small tombstones behind her.

"Don't you engrave a name?" Ghost looked at the boy who was about to turn and leave and said softly.

"Is there any difference?" Riddle looked at the ghost with some puzzlement, but he stopped and wrote a line with his wand:

"Merope Gaunt: 1907-1926."

"Maybe she prefers the surname Riddle." The boy laughed mockingly, turned and disappeared into the brighter morning light.