HP+ Miss Malfoy has green eyes

Vera loves to play with some potions these days, and everyone in Malfoy's house cannot escape the fate of testing them.

Naturally, there is one person who can't, and that is her teacher, the Dark Lord.

And she tried and tried, and her favorite target was Peter Pettigrew.

Draco asked her why once, and she just fluttered her big green eyes, "Because he's an Animagus, of course."

He asked again and again, because he didn't know how she could tell.

She smiled and said, "Muggles always like to experiment on mice first when they make new medicines."

She had picked up a set of wizarding slang, and had begun calling those who couldn't use magic Muggles.

If I ask her again, she won't say anything.

Just looking at him with a smile, but when she looked at him with a smile like that, he couldn't help but get hot on his face.

She always likes to run into the study room, holding thick books, sometimes about Potions, sometimes about the history of magic, and sometimes about some obscure magic legends.

She reads very fast. After reading the book, she will experiment, keep experimenting, and then she will practice. The Dark Lord is quite indulgent. As long as she wants to practice, no matter who it is, as long as she asks, then it will be done. Should be her test subject.

Again, Peter Pettigrew was her favorite.

She likes to go to him from room to room with the medicine, and then look at him, innocently, and with a bit of evil spirit, and say to him, "Drink it."

Peter Pettigrew was so cowardly, he asked her submissively, "What is this?"

"If you know the effect of the medicine, it may affect our results." Her big green eyes were so ruthless at this time, "Drink it."

"Master..." Peter Pettigrew looked at the Dark Lord with pleading eyes, and the Dark Lord said coldly, "You heard what she said."

So he had to be wronged, and drank it with tears.

And she looked at him intently, sometimes he would moan, sometimes be ecstatic, and sometimes roll on the ground because of the pain.

Peter Pettigrew has become a habit of submissiveness. In the previous foursomes, he was a follower. The center of the four is always Sirius Black and James Potter. They are inseparable. An arrogant and hateful character, at that time they ordered him to do a lot of things half-truthfully and half-truthfully. The most unpleasant thing is to turn into a mouse and press the scar on the Whomping Willow to him.

mouse!Who wants to be a mouse?

But he accepted silently, because if he didn't turn into a mouse, then he wasn't part of the Foursome anymore, and if he wasn't part of the Foursome, look at what happened to Severus Snape.

James didn't actually hate Snape that much at first, but he started to like to bully him because he had such a good relationship with Lily.But he has such a good relationship with those three people, if he doesn't stay in the group of four, where can he go?Would anyone really treat him better than the foursome?

No, no, they can all be heroes, why can't he?

Peter Pettigrew kept rolling his body in pain.

"I also want to be a hero, and I also want to stop being a clown," he muttered to himself, "I also want to be watched by everyone, and I also want to be liked..."

The Dark Lord glanced at her, "I remember the medicine I taught you to make didn't hurt so much."

Nor will people speak out all their inner thoughts.

"I want to make a pain version of Veritaserum." She shook the small bottle of potion left in her hand, "and then add the potion you taught me, sir."

Draco wasn't there, and if he had been, he would have been terrified by the faint excitement in the girl's eyes.

She stood aside, admiring that the man who wasn't even half her height continued to roll on the ground as if he'd been drinking one of those ecstasy, sorrow, transfiguration potions she'd made before.

The Dark Lord liked her so much, he couldn't help but want to reach out and touch her hair, which was a rare tender gesture for him, but when he stretched out his hand, he found that his fingers were pale and weak, and his arms were incredibly thin.

Those were not human hands.

When he was distracted for a while, the girl had already squatted down, and she stretched out her hand to poke the still dwarf, and the silver snake-shaped bracelet with her tail in her wrist fell loosely to the palm of her hand, making her look even more attractive. Slender wrists.

He heard her say, "Why didn't you keep talking? Did you faint?"

no answer.

He suddenly couldn't restrain himself, and said to her, "Come on, miss, go to a place with me."

She turned to look at him, her green eyes deepened against the blond hair, and she said, "Okay."

It was a dilapidated old house that Vera had never seen in her life.

The walls were covered with moss, and the trees poked out their branches through the roof tiles.Overgrown weeds almost covered the gate.

But because of her personality, she doesn't feel very scared. Although she has a good talent for apparition, she is not proficient enough. Although the face of the person opposite is scary to others, she doesn't feel it. She just felt that he couldn't tell his age, because he had already lost what could be called a human form, and naturally he would also lose what was judged to be his age.

The Dark Lord had just let go of her hand, because he wanted to bring her here, and he still didn't fully trust her ability. She didn't start contacting magic until she was 14 years old, and magic like apparition was too difficult.

He subconsciously didn't want her to get hurt in any way.

His hand was as cold as a snake, but it was powerful when he held her.

Speaking of snakes, Vera finally saw at this time that the crooked thing nailed to the door of this house, the thing she thought was a vine when she looked at it from a distance-in fact, it was a vine that had accumulated countless times. Dust dead snake.

Voldemort looked at the snake, then at her wrist, where the silver bracelet was also in the shape of a snake.

A snake biting its own tail represents a never-ending life.

He thought, if there is such a thing as fate, then this child is probably also a part of his fate.

He waved his hand, and the door opened, "Follow me." He didn't turn his head, but raised his head and started to walk forward. The child behind him didn't answer, but he heard the rustling of her robe. She was getting used to wearing it. Instead of wearing some weird Muggle clothes like before, such as short skirts that make people wonder where to look and pants that reveal two-thirds of their thighs.

"It's full of magic, dangerous magic," he told her. "Follow me. Don't touch anything."

Those black magics were too dangerous and terrible, even if he did it himself, but if the child accidentally took a wrong step, then even he couldn't save her.

At last she said, "Yes, sir."

He concentrated on waving his wand, hardly needing to recall, he was familiar with every spell here, and every spell was the most suitable choice he chose after careful consideration.

Vera stood behind him and followed him cautiously, feeling that the house was as small as it looked outside, but it was such a trouble to move, he almost had to break several spells every step he took.

She has nothing to do but look at the house.

It was very dark, very small, all the windows were broken, there were cobwebs everywhere, everything was covered in a thick layer of dust, but she wasn't sure if it was a layer of dust, or if it was just used. An illusion created by magic.

Until finally the man said, "Look."

Standing where she was, she saw a flat place on the ceiling suddenly extend itself after touching a ray of light from the front of his wand, and then slowly spit out a small black circle-like thing from it.

"Take it, but don't put it on," he whispered.

She stretched out her hand, and the little ring fell into her palm.

It was a rough gold ring with a solid black gem on it.In her opinion, this ring is obviously a bit rough and unbelievable, but just by touching it, she can feel an inexplicable power inside.

Long ago she didn't understand what this feeling was.

Now she knows that this is magic power, as long as magic is applied to anything, there will be this indescribable power, and she is obviously holding a small but powerful magic condensate now.

If you want to make a popular analogy, change the feeling that this magical condensate gives her to weight, it should be easy to understand-everything has weight, and the same volume of cotton is heavier than the same volume of metal. It should be lighter, and if the analogy continues on this basis, she feels that she has at least a piece of platinum in her hand.

Or you can describe that feeling as heat, this analogy is not entirely correct, at least the thing in her hand does not make her feel pain.

She could feel that there was something different in that ring from other things, but she couldn't describe that feeling in terms of feeling.

But why would this man give himself a ring?

This question can have pretty dire answers.

"Why?" she asked him.

And he didn't look at her as if he was afraid that he would regret it, "This is a very important thing to me."

"So I wonder why, why I have the honor of keeping him, sir."

"You are my pupil," he said, "you are my only pupil, and I am your teacher."

As if this one answer was enough.

He looked at his pale fingertips, "Keep it well, don't let anyone know that you have it."

"I don't think it's possible." She said seriously, "I can feel its existence. The traces of magic on it are too heavy, as bright and conspicuous as the moon in the dark."

He was a little surprised, "What did you feel?"

"Magic." She held the ring, her green eyes were particularly bright in the dark, "All things with magic are special to the touch. You probably have been living in this kind of life, so you are used to it."

No, Muggles often don't know what to do with a wizard's thing.

"Take it." He still insisted, "Just remember, never, never, don't put him on your fingers."

"Okay." She agreed, and took out a thin platinum chain from her collar. The pendant of the chain was a delicately cut emerald the size of a finger. After thinking about it, she gave the emerald to He, "Put this back, sir."

"Why?" He was a little puzzled.

As she put the ring into the platinum chain, she said to him, "You have cast so many spells, if someone else comes and works so hard to unlock all the spells and find the last secret, there will be nothing Got it, how sad he must be."

She put on the chain and hung it around her neck herself. "Here is the emerald, so he can think he played a treasure hunt and got a reward."

She was still a child, always a little childish.

He couldn't help laughing, "Yes, miss, all this will be as you wish."

The emerald has heat in his palm, that's the heat that only human beings have, that's the heat that only living people have.The real body is different from the body created by magic like him.

And the gemstone gradually lost its heat in his palm and became cold, so he put the gemstone back, and put it back where the ring should have been.

On request.

What a stupid thing to do, how stupid must one be to do this for another?

He said in his heart.

But for such a self, he didn't feel disgusted.