Harry Potter’s Book of Sin

Marx was in silence, accepting the transfer of the Ministry of Magic’s supervisor to Azkaban dementor.

It can be seen that the two supervisors of Ministry of Magic were shaking slightly in the face of the dementors. Even if they are, they are not always in contact with these monsters.

After the prescribed handover process was completed quickly, they left the portkey without leaving back.

Marx is standing next to the dementors. He can feel that after the last “mystery” event, the dementor can already sense him. Only this kind of induction is still very weak, so that the monsters are somewhat interested in lack.

Marx glanced at them casually and then took a steady step to take the initiative to walk towards the strange Blackrock Fortress on the island.

According to relevant information, the last owner of the fortress was an evil wizard named “Ekrizdis”. After his death, all the hidden curses on the island were invalidated, which was discovered by the authorities Ministry of Magic.

As for who built it here, no one knows it.

Walking along a path that is also paved by black rock, and the dementor is like everywhere, they seem to wander around, aiming around…

Under this day, I am afraid I will never find a prison like Azkaban.

Except for the dementor, the aboriginal guardian of the prison, there are not many things to prevent the criminals from escaping.

Even the iron gates of the Blackrock Fortress were completely hoisted.

“Are they so worried about those dementors?” Marx looked back and looked at the monsters that covered the mountains and the plains. “…well, maybe, it’s really reassuring.”

What is brought about by the increasingly stable magic circle is naturally the life, convenience and popularization of magic, which makes the combat power of the wizard and the detection of the mysteries of the magic circle continue to decline.

For the vast majority of criminals, this is already a deep abyss hell filled with despair.

After passing through the tall fortress gate, after passing through a square that had long since vanished, he walked into the inner part of the fortress.

This is the real prison that has been transformed by the Ministry of Magic.

If it is in accordance with the process, Marx should come here under the leadership of dementor and then be placed in one of the prisons. Ministry of Magic can’t think of it, Marx is here to be on his own site.

In the dark corridors of the fort, the dementor is still visible everywhere.

But most of them just subconsciously “look” at Marx, and then let him pass by him.

After a random round, Marx found that the vast majority of the prisons here were empty. Compared to this extremely large fortress, the prisoners who are being held here are pitiful.

But when Marx passed a window sill behind the fort, he saw the scene behind the castle.

It was a wide cemetery, and a piece of tombstone was placed on the ground, stretching from the “back garden” near the castle to the edge of the woods in the distance.

The tombstones closest to the castle have even fallen down. They seem to be both old and ruined. People can’t help but guess, how many years have they spent there?

Marx continues to go up, but the more up the prisoner, the fewer the number of prisoners, and almost all of them have no reaction to Marx’s passing.

They are all trying to make themselves fall asleep, although this will always make them wake up because of a nightmare, but it is definitely better than watching the dementor one after another pass by their own prison, just like lining up for a meal. Happiness is much better!

But when Marx passed through a cell in the 3rd-layer, he saw an old witch whose eyes were not completely dead.

“You…who are you? How…who…” Witch half-squinted, with a little awake in his expression, she said intermittently, “Are you…Ministry of Magic to visit the prisoner?”

Marx looked at her with interest and shook her head after a while.

“I am a prisoner like you,” he said. “Why, is your soul not completely occupied by negative emotions?”

“…you thought I was…the first time… came in?” The old witch opened his mouth and seemed to want to smile, but it was a very difficult thing for her, “hmph… …I don’t want to compromise because of this.”

Marx looked at her thinking and suddenly raised her eyebrow speculated: “Are you Miss Pinkstone?”

“…Do you know me?” The old witch blinked and seemed to want to see him more clearly.

“Carlotta · Pinkstone, born in 1922, graduated from Hogwarts Gryffindor, a famous activist who advocates the abolition of the International Wizard Federation Secrecy Act and is committed to the fusion of magic circle and muggle…” Marx knows what he knows. Feel free to pick it up and then continue to ask, “In fact, you are still very famous, because you will always be sent to Azkaban because of deliberate violation of the Secrecy Act.”

“…this is also a strategy.” Ms. Pinkstone’s eyes widened. “Do you think my claim is correct?”

Marx shrugged said: “I don’t want to talk to you here.”

“You…what do you want to do?” Pinkstone asked illly.

But Marx just waved his hand and didn’t continue to pay attention to her. When he got up, he left.

Meeting Carlotta Pinkstone was just an accident, and it was not within his plan. He kept on foot and looked at the prisoners who occasionally appeared in his sight while walking slowly toward the higher level.

Since these uninvited incidents hindered his research process, he had to arrange the situation first.

All the way up, Marx is like the owner of Azkaban, inspecting every criminal who is locked up here.

Finally, in a prison, he saw a woman who was motionless on the ground.

It was like a dead witch, her dirty, dusty hair was spread on the ground, completely covering her head.

The clothes on the witch are ruined, and the skin is so ruined that it is not much different from a corpse.

If it were not to be looming, her chest was a little ups and downs, and no one would think she was still alive.

“铛铛-“

Marx reached out and tapped the iron door of the prison with the chain on his wrist, sending out a few crisp metal crashes. The voice kept reverberating in the quiet corridor.

The witch’s hand seemed to move, and apparently she had heard the awkward sound.

“Bellatrix.”

Marx’s tentative words have not yet been settled, and the witch slammed his head up. Under her long hair, a pair of paranoid and crazy eyes straight into Marx.

“…who are you?” She whispered in a hoarse voice.

Marx directly ignored her problem and looked straight into her eyes: “Answer me, are you Bellatrix?”

“who are you!”

The madness of the other party was obviously extraordinary. She shouted hoarsely, grabbed the door and slammed it into the door, and made a loud noise.

The goal has obviously been found, so there is no need to continue to pull with her.

Marx turned back and his hand was filled with a solid silver white light of light. He reached out and grabbed the face of a dementor that was passing behind him, dragging all the way downstairs.

In the prison, the Bellatrix, which has fallen into madness, can’t help but take a half step back – no way, Marx’s behavior has an unparalleled deterrent in the eyes of all Azkaban prisoners.

It turns out that dementor is a magic creature with no emotions. Even if the bad luck egg in Marx’s hands is constantly struggling, they seem to have no sight at all, let him leave quickly.

……

In Little Hangleton, the villagers still refer to an old house here as “Riddle House,” although it has been inhabited for many years.

The house is situated on a high hillside, from which the entire village can be seen.

Several windows of the house were sealed, and the tiles on the roof were also incomplete. Boston ivy baring fangs and brandishing claws climbed the entire house.

Riddle House was originally a beautifully large mansion, the most spacious and stylish building within a few miles of a circle; but now it has become so damp and desolate, and the head is covered with time.

The villagers of Little Hangleton agree that this old house is indeed “blame and scary.”

Half a century ago, there was a bizarre and terrifying event. Until now, when the older generation of the village had no other topics, they still liked to talk about it.

This story has been repeatedly told by people, and many places have been added to it. The truth is no one has said it.

However, every version of the story begins in the same way:

Fifty years ago, Riddle was still well-managed and extraordinary; on a clear summer day, a maid walked into the living room and found the Riddle Family to die.

The maid screamed down the hill and ran into the village, awakening the villagers.

“…they are all lying, their eyes are wide! It’s cold! It’s still wearing dinner clothes!” she said.

The police were called, and the entire Little Hangleton village was immersed in surprise and curiosity. The villagers tried to hide their inner excitement, but they did not succeed.

No one was wasting their energy, pretending to be sad for the Deer family, because their popularity in the village has always been bad.

The old man is very rich, but it is rude, and they are already adult son Tom…

Speaking of it, you may not believe it, he is even worse than his parents!

The villagers are concerned about who the murderer is. Obviously, it is impossible for three people who look very healthy to die naturally at the same time.

“Walking around a big circle, I returned to this place—” At this moment, in Riddle House, a handsome young wizard stood by the broken window and looked at the outside with a chuckle. “No? Nagini… …”