Chapter 84 Pain
Chapter 527 Pain
It was 6 o'clock, on the third floor of the Burrow, in Harry's room.
Harry leaned against the head of the bed, motionless, like a dead body.
Because he had just truly accepted something - Voldemort's love for Bella, and then Voldemort forcibly cut her out of his soul.
So much so that the updated taskbar that appeared on Harry's retina did not attract his attention at all.
Pain!
It hurts so much!
It hurts so much!
Endless pain entangled Harry.
For Voldemort, who could not feel love, the pain from the loss of love was just the source of his power.
But for Harry, it was extremely deep and clear.
It was like a scar that had not yet scabbed, and was forcibly cut out with a thick and blunt iron spoon.
After about ten minutes, Harry came back to his senses.
He drew out his wand, lightly tapped it, and a piece of parchment flew out from the pile of books.
Words emerged from the parchment with a light, soft caramel yellow and bronze background.
"Hedwig." Hedwig, the snow-white owl, flew over and stretched out her right leg skillfully.
The parchment folded up and automatically attached to Hedwig's right leg.
Harry touched Hedwig, and Hedwig bit Harry's finger gently to show her closeness, then spread her wings and flew out of the window.
Bedfordshire, eastern England.
This is an empty village square with an ancient war memorial in the middle and a few benches.
The clock on the church not far away was particularly blurred in the hot and distorted air, and the pointer pointed crookedly to the current time - 12:00.
Crack!
Two figures, one tall and one short, suddenly appeared in the hot air.
The tall figure was a thin man with silver-white hair and beard hanging down to his waist.
He wore a pair of half-moon glasses on his hooked nose, a black traveling cloak, and a pointed hat.
He exuded a mysterious temperament, an obvious wizard temperament.
The slightly shorter figure next to him looked a bit like Frankenstein.
Under his long gray hair, he covered scarred skin. His mouth was like a crooked big hole, and the part where his nose should be raised was gone.
A leg was also missing like his nose, and it was replaced by a wooden leg that thumped on the ground.
The wooden leg was only a few inches long, and underneath it was a claw-shaped foot.
But the most terrifying thing was his eyes.
One of his eyes was small, black, and shiny; the other eye was large, round like a coin, and a bright bright blue.
The blue eye kept moving without blinking, turning up and down, left and right, completely unrelated to the normal eye - later, the blue eyeball rolled over and drilled into the man's head, leaving only a big white eyeball.
"Did you see it, Alastor?" The tall wizard turned his head and asked.
"Harry Potter never missed it! Didn't he?" Frankenstein took a sip of the liquid in the curved bottle he carried with him, and then sighed.
"Come with me, Albus." Frankenstein limped towards the war memorial.
Frankenstein cursed as he walked: "I knew you asked me to come here just to make it easier to find the way.
With my magic eye, how can even Voldemort's secret hut escape my sight?"
He had already walked to the monument at this moment.
Reaching out his scarred hand, he fumbled behind the monument, his blue eyes moving up and down, left and right, "Got it! It's here."
A crisp metal collision sounded, and a rusty chain was pulled out of the air by Frankenstein.
He shook his head, shaking his gray hair away from his face, and his incomplete nose wing twitched slightly, "Not bad! The taste of black magic, the rest is up to you, Albus."
The tall wizard smiled heartily, "Well, it's Tom's style - extremely cruel and stupid at the same time."
He stepped back a few steps from the monument and pointed his wand at the chain.
Kangchi!
The chain broke, and a door suddenly emerged from the air, hanging crookedly in the air.
"As expected of you, so clean and neat." Frankenstein took another sip of the liquid in the curved wine bottle.
As he said that, he lifted his artificial leg and stepped into the air.
Surprisingly, there seemed to be an invisible staircase between the ground and the door.
Frankenstein climbed up limpingly, followed by the tall wizard.
There was no key to the door.
It seemed to have its own intelligence. As soon as Frankenstein approached, a series of loud metal collisions and the clattering of chains were heard automatically.
Then the door creaked open.
This is a luxurious house.
The thick dust on the carpet, the peeling wallpaper, and the rusty snake-shaped decorations could not hide this.
In the hallway, as they entered, the hollow lamps on both sides lit up automatically.
The two walked to the center of the hallway and looked around.
On the left was a narrow passage going down.
On the right was a marble escalator that could be called exquisite.
"Ahem! So much dust--" Frankenstein fanned his broken nose with his hand, "Albus, you should be able to tell me what Voldemort used this room for now."
The tall wizard didn't say anything. He waved his wand and the door frame behind him closed again.
He had a very lost look on his face.
"Looking for someone." He hesitated, "A lost companion."
He sighed. He walked straight to the left.
It seemed that he had found his destination today when he looked around just now.
Frankenstein also realized something. He put down the curved bottle and limped behind the tall wizard.
As they approached, the ceiling of the passage automatically emitted a flickering white light.
At the end of the passage was a room with a half-open door.
Although the two had not approached yet, under the light of the ceiling, a skeleton in a gray wizard robe lay on the ground.
The skeleton's hands and legs were exaggeratedly bent backwards.
Frankenstein suddenly seemed to have lost his strength. He slumped on the ground, his scarred hands constantly reaching for the wall, trying to lean on it to stand up.
"Caradoc! It's him! It's him! Albus, it's him!
.
I remember, that was the robe we bought together at Tufan Clothing Store. He said that the Order of the Phoenix had just been established and he should wear something more stylish. Which lowly, dirty pig hurt him!
."
Frankenstein howled in pain.
Like the painful wail of a mother animal when she lost her cub.
He crawled on the ground, his face pressed against the dusty ground, but he didn't care.
The tall wizard didn't approach Frankenstein.
He also held the wall with his hands, and his blue eyes were also full of sadness.
He thought he could stay calm.
He had long accepted Caradoc's death.
He also knew what he would see when he came here.
But why, he was still in so much pain.
Chongqing is so hot now, 40 degrees high temperature.
It almost made me get heatstroke.
I take a shower and write the next chapter.
