[Comprehensive English and American] Every live broadcast wants my life

"Tom..." I can't refute his words, because I can clearly understand where his resentment and anger come from.

In the past, when I confronted Voldemort's ugly face, no matter how many guesses I had in my heart, I couldn't feel sympathy or guilt when I saw his terrifying face.

Because no matter in terms of voice or appearance, the man who was pale and cracked like snake skin and kept dropping dead skin could not remind me of the thin little boy with an angelic appearance at all.

——Don't look at what he does, don't look at the light flashing in his eyes, Tom's appearance is indeed clean and innocent.

'He's not Tom. '

——Every time I see Voldemort's face, there is such a voice in the bottom of my heart reminding me.

Even the name is, I insist on calling him 'Dark Lord', 'Voldemort', but I have never called him 'Tom' in the main world.

But this time, facing the man in front of me who is quite similar in appearance to Little Tom, who looks very much like the man who opened his eyebrows and eyes after a few years, I finally compared him with the man in 1938 whom I sent pigeons twice Associated together.

It was also the first time that I sincerely called him Tom in the main world.

"Sorry..." I said.

I don't know what kind of eyes Draco next to me is looking at me, and I don't know how he guessed the relationship between me and Tom.I dare not look at him, because I know that if I glance at Draco again at this moment, it will invite disaster for him, devastating disaster.

——From what Tom said just now, it can be heard that Tom has jealousy, disdain, and hatred for the behavior of Draco and me.

I was in a coma for a long time, and my IQ went online again, and I finally realized that his cruelty to me might have come from my broken appointments at the beginning, but it is definitely not now.

90.00% of the hostility right now is towards Draco, towards how close he and I are now.

— because I've definitely seen those expressions on Draco, even if they weren't as vicious as Tom's, not as aggressive as he was.

But I let go of Draco's hand and pushed his hand on my waist to the side.Even if I don't know if it's the next trip back to 1939, or a certain year after that, what happened to him in the past.But feeling his possessiveness and jealousy, I understand how scary it is.

How terrible this kind of emotion is on the Dark Lord.

"I'm sorry..." He sat on the chair and repeated my apology, as if chewing the meaning of the word repeatedly in his mouth. "You seem to have said sorry to me many times, is this your mantra?"

His body moved forward slightly, looking down at Draco and me like a king inspecting his subjects, he is noble, we are humble, without mercy.

"When an apology becomes a mantra, how much sincerity and weight does it have?"

Tom's question made my body tremble. I wanted to ask him why he changed his appearance, why he regained Tom Riddle's appearance. He obviously didn't care about his current appearance in the book. Saying is not important.Why on earth is it necessary to go to such lengths to change the appearance.

Could it be that he left these days to restore his appearance?

But what's the point of restoring your looks? !for what?

After I lowered my head, I didn't dare to look up again, because what he said just now, whether it was the articulation or the scarlet eyes, made me have a momentary illusion because of his appearance and childish jealousy, and associated him with Little Tom The illusion, there is nothing left to dispel.

——Some people's appearance has changed, but he is still him, and his character remains the same.

——Even if some people recover their appearance, they are no longer him, they have long since become unrecognizable, and it is futile to restore their appearance.

Even if he regained his handsome face, he would still be the Dark Lord, and little Tom was long gone.

"Why don't you dare to look up at me?" As if aware of my guilty conscience, all I could see from the corner of my eye was his hand casually resting on his lap, with the wand between his fingers, and his plan to strike again and again appearance.

But following his words, I saw the finger of the Dark Lord holding the wand suddenly lifted up, and my jaw seemed to be pinched by an invisible hand, and I suddenly lifted it up, accompanied by the movement of his hand .

"Huh?" I was forced to look at him, even my eyelids seemed to be pulled forcibly, I could only look at him, watching him snort at me, watching him hide his disdain and longing, and even There are eyes of love that neither sees.

——This love terrifies me.

"Ginny, MyLord, don't do this to her. The Malfoys have agreed to everything you asked for earlier." Draco's hand, which I had pushed several times but didn't push away, grabbed me again at this moment. "I am also working hard to complete the task you entrusted to me. Please don't make it difficult for Ginny anymore. Please..."

It turned out that during the few conversations just now, Draco had already understood who the real identity of the man in front of him was.

He kept his posture to the lowest, his tone and expression were extremely humble, from the time I knew him to now, I have never heard him like this, throwing away all pride and self-esteem, begging for someone hard.

The only thing that came close was the one he said before when he hugged me and sighed in my ear after returning from Sherlock's world.

"Don't worry me anymore."

Only that time.

Obviously Draco didn't even dare to lift his head when facing Voldemort before, but this time he was pushed several times by me, and he made a slight concession to put his hand next to me without physical contact, but this time he pushed very hard , clutching my arm tightly.

He looked at Voldemort desolately and desperately, and did not avoid the mocking look from above.

My heart tightened, knowing that this was not good, whether it was what Draco said to Voldemort or the way he was holding my arm at the moment, but he was using too much force and I couldn't push Draco away.

Before I tried to remind him with my eyes, I felt a strong wind blowing by me, and a strong force lifted Draco's whole body away from me, flew to the wall on my right side, and smashed him hard. up.

"Pfft!" A mouthful of blood spurted out of Draco's mouth, and he hit the ground again when he fell off the wall.The whole body is bent over, the right arm is pressed to the ground for use, and the left hand is holding the chest as if he has suffered a serious internal injury.

How painful were these two blows?From the inlaid gemstones of unknown authenticity on the entire wall and the smashed wooden floor with cracks, one can almost guess the general idea.

Even though the edges and corners of the gemstones inlaid on the wall are polished and rounded, they are like pebbles on the ground. The weight of the whole body is pressed on it, and even wearing thick soles will still hurt.

Draco didn't have the strength to get up from the ground at all, and kept lying on the ground, clutching his chest and coughing, his body trembling.Normal people can't stand being hit like this, not to mention that he is in poor physical and mental condition now.

I wanted to help him, but couldn't.

"Who allowed you to talk to me like that, Malfoy!" Voldemort looked away from me and turned to Draco, and his wand followed his gaze.

I saw the tip of the staff lifted upwards, and Draco, who was lying on the ground and unable to get up by himself, was mercilessly pulled up by the magic power, stood up abruptly, and hung in the air.

"Uh...cough cough cough." Draco looked very uncomfortable, his collar seemed to be picked up by a string protruding from somewhere around him, and the appearance of being dragged in the air made it difficult for him to even breathe .

But Voldemort didn't care about his feelings, even looking up at Draco floating in the air, Voldemort was still not weak in the slightest.

"It's an honor for the Malfoy family to serve me. Should I ask Bella to mention your parents a little bit more. If it wasn't that their teaching was wrong, why would you have such immature thoughts?"

"Wealth is given by your family's hands. To be honest, I'm not interested in them." He moved his gaze from Draco's body to the fingers holding the wand, as if appreciating his return to normal Instead of dismissing the hand with skin, "Your parents insisted on sending it up, I didn't ask for it."

"Including missions too." The corner of his mouth curled down, and the two sides of his face were divided into two slightly different expressions. "Isn't that what you specifically asked to join us?"

Speaking of this, Voldemort seemed to have finally admired his hands enough, and suddenly raised his eyelids without warning, and his eyes moved to me.

"What does it have to do with her? Do you think saving her is just such a simple task and Jin Jialong, who is a drop in the bucket, can do it?"

With a sudden sneer, Voldemort seemed to be talking to a naive child, with a pitiful tone: "You are too naive, it is really old Malfoy who protected you so well."

Voldemort's mood is uncertain, and after recovering his appearance, his expression is much richer than before, and it is easier for people to understand his current mood changes.

I saw that the first second had just changed from disdain to pity, and the next second, after catching a glimpse of the tears I shed involuntarily because of Draco's injury, his expression suddenly became irritable.

Eyebrows raised, eyes rolled and moved to Draco again, with a sneer in the corner of his mouth, he swung his wand down forcefully.

"boom--!"

Just hearing a sound that was heavier than the sum of the two impacts just now, Draco, who was dragged into the air and suffocated, was slammed to the ground again.

His knees fell to the ground, and I could even hear the sound of his knees almost cracking.

"Draco!" My exclamation was joined by Voldemort, who reprimanded Draco indifferently.

"You really have no education at all, don't you understand when you kneel down? How can you not understand the etiquette that both Narcissa and Lucius understand?"

Seeing that Draco fell forward due to inertia, and was about to fall on his face, Voldemort's wand shook again, and Draco's collar was pulled back, and he, who was exhausted, was forced to Kneeling, kneeling beside me.

Kneel to Voldemort.

The most frightening thing is that when the Dark Lord used these spells, he didn't even chant spells. I don't know when he started using spells, what spells he used, what consequences these spells would have, and how to avoid them. have no idea.

"Tom, everything is my fault, I know I have done many, many, many mistakes." Life and death are at stake, Draco has been tortured a few times, spitting blood at the mouth and cracking knees, "I understand, you hate me, you hate me , You can take revenge on me no matter what, but can you let Draco go?"

I don't care at all whether Draco understands or misunderstands, I just want to beg Voldemort to let Draco go.

Everything is my fault, it's the fault of the live broadcast mission, it's me who made him like this.He treats me well, I will bear everything, and he punishes me no matter what.

Just don't hurt Draco.

Why hurt Draco.

"Leave... him?" Voldemort raised his eyebrows and looked at me, meeting his gaze, I nodded repeatedly.

"Yes, as long as you let him go, I can do whatever you want, really." Every time I nodded, the invisible things that pulled my eyelids and pinched my chin made my skin hurt, but But I dare not hesitate.

"Heh!" Unexpectedly, what I did angered Voldemort again. He sneered angrily, but I couldn't figure it out.

"Who told you that you can exchange with me? Do you really think that at this moment, there is still room for you to negotiate with me?"

He stood up from the chair, the black robe on his body fluttered with the wind brought out by the quick steps, and came between me and Draco. Only when he was so close did I realize that the black robe on his body was still complicated. dark lines.

He even smelled of candy, and my brain short-circuited for a while, and his approach reminded me of that Christmas Eve in 1939.

That house, the night I dined face to face with little Tom.

taste.

"Stupid," he stepped on Draco's ankle and twisted his foot fiercely, "Besides, what did I do to him? Just caring about him so much, let me let him go?"

"Isn't it just a cracked bone, raw bone water can solve it, so what's the problem if it hurts?"

But he ruthlessly pulled the memories into reality.

"Ugh!" Draco was in severe pain, and there were beads of sweat the size of mung beans dripping down his pale face, obviously not hot, it could be seen that this was the sweat he shed with pain.

But Draco didn't make any other sounds except for this muffled grunt, as if he was afraid of offending Voldemort, or he seemed afraid that the sound of eating pain would make my heart hurt.

He bit his lower lip tightly, enduring it.

"It's just a broken bone. You treat people differently. No matter how badly someone is injured, you may not frown." Who is it?

"And even if I want to do something to him, can you stop it?"

"Well, even if I tell you everything, you can't help it. What can you do?"

He finally turned his anger on me again, he let go of Draco's foot, and stepped in front of me.

"You can't do anything, you can't resist."

He became so tall that I raised my head from a half-sitting position and could only touch his lower abdomen, and I could only see his chin.Also because I was too close, I couldn't see his face.

As if aware of my gaze and efforts, he leaned over and leaned into my ear, uttering threatening words in an almost bewitching voice mixed with a morbid smile.

"You can't even go out through this door."

On the other side, Draco, whose body movement restriction magic had been withdrawn, gave me a hard look, trying to get closer, but couldn't.

The author has something to say: Big, big, back to normal update!Thank you everyone for waiting!