Harry Potter and the Secret Treasures

“In conclusion, Armando rejected Voldemort's application to teach the dark magic defense technique.” Dumbledore said, "After his application was rejected, he went to the Borkin-Bork store, and all the teachers who appreciated him said it was unfortunate that such a talented young wizard went to be a clerk. But Voldemort wasn't just a regular clerk, he was courteous, handsome and smart, and quickly got a special job only in places like Borkin-Bork. As you all know, this store specializes in magical objects that refuse to have specificity or value. Voldemort was sent to convince others to hand over the treasure to the store for sale and is said to be particularly good at it. ”

“I believe it!” Harry said.

“I believe it too, but that's exactly where we should be careful, professor.” Ivan went on to say that it was because he knew so much about what Voldemort was good at and what was horrible that he didn't trust the guy in the ring, and if Dumbledore was going to work with 15-year-old Riddle on something, he'd better be careful.

Voldemort now gains powerful magic power, but loses the power of disguise and allure.

The 15-year-old Riddle in the ring doesn't, but he's weak and good at seducing people.

“Yeah, yeah, I'll pay attention!” Dumbledore smiled powerlessly, "Now it's time for you to listen to the memory of the little elf, Hawkeye, whose master is an old, very wealthy witch named Hepzba Smith. ”

Dumbledore said, pouring the memories from the crystal bottle just removed into the meditation basin.

“Come on, you go in first, Ivan, and watch the golden cup we're about to see. ”

The Golden Cup of Hufflepuff? Another Voldemort?!

What does the specific location of the Elvish Home have to do with the Golden Cup?

With all the doubts, Ivan entered the meditation basin.

He fell on his heels in the dark void into a living room.

Ivan saw a fat, fat old lady in front of him, wearing a fine turmeric wig, and a bright pink robe spreading around her, making her look like a melted ice cream cake.

She was pouring rouge on her already bright red cheeks with a big powder against a tiny mirror with jewelry embedded in it.

One is probably the world's leanest, oldest home breeding elf, wearing a tight satin buckle buckle on the old lady's fat feet, and she's probably the home breeding elf Hoki.

“Come on, Hoki!” Hepzba said arbitrarily, "He said it was only two minutes after 4: 00, and he was never late. ”

She put the powder away, raised the elf straight up, and her head went all the way to Hepzbah's chair mat, and her paper-like skin hung on the skeleton, like that fine linen robe she wore on her.

“What about me?” Hepzbah asked, turning her head and looking at her mirror face from all angles.

“Beautiful, ma'am.” Hao Qi said in a sharp voice.

She had to bite her teeth and lie when she returned to the question because Hepzba Smith was far from beautiful, but she would obviously not tolerate other answers from her own family.

Evan guessed that maybe this kind of torture was the main reason Hawkeye looked so skinny and so old.

You know, the Elvish is not good at lying, especially when faced with his master, but at this moment, Hawkeye has to lie...

In ancient times, a witch who was confident in her appearance but was actually ugly made a magic mirror.

She asked mirrors every day, "Mirrors, mirrors, who is the most beautiful woman in the world?” While asking the mirror, there is only one answer for her, which is to say that she is the most beautiful woman in the world.

Because the witch asks this question every morning and night. Finally, the mirror that can't stand the torture finally breaks...

So you can see how stressful it will be to have Pokémon Hawkeye at home.

At this point, when the doorbell was ringing locally, both the mistress and Pokémon jumped.

“Come on, come on, here he comes, Hoki!” Hepzbah shouted, Pokémon rushing out of the house.

The house was very crowded and I couldn't imagine anyone walking through the room without crashing at least a dozen things. A cabinet displaying painted boxes, bookshelves filled with hot gold books, shelves with stars and stars, and lots of flourishing plants growing in copper dishes, this room looks like a magic antique shop and greenhouse.

Pokémon will be back soon, followed by a tall young man, Voldemort!

Precisely Voldemort after adulthood, almost twenty years old.

He was wearing a black suit, his hair was longer than at school, and his cheeks were dimpled, but Ivan had to admit that these were perfect for him, and this outfit made him look even more handsome, as he did a few years ago at a private party in Slughorn, and he himself seemed to shine, unnegligible.

Voldemort passed through the crowded room carefully and seemed to have come many times.

Then he bent down low and his lips gently touched Hepzbah's little fat hand.

“I brought you flowers, ma'am!” He whispered, turning into a bunch of roses.

“You naughty boy, you shouldn't have!” Old Hepzbah screamed, but she had prepared an empty vase on a small table next to her, "You spoiled my old lady, Tom, sit down, sit down... where's Hawkeye, ah...”

The Elvish runs into the house with a plate of pastry and places the plate on the elbow of the mistress.

“Eat up, Tom.” Hepzbah drowned and said, "I know you like my pastries. How are you? She looks a little pale, seems a little thin, the store used you too hard, I told Bok a hundred times! ”

Hepzbaro smiled, Voldemort mechanically smiling.

“Hey, what's my excuse to come and see me this time?” She blinked her eyelashes and asked.

“The fairy-made armor, Mr. Burke, came up with a higher price, 500 gallons, which he thought was fair enough. ”

“Whoa, whoa, don't be so hasty, or I'll think you're here just for my stuff!” Hepz said with his mouth shut, "We can talk about some other things…”

“But I was sent for them.” Voldemort whispered, "I'm just a small clerk, ma'am, I can only listen to people, Mr. Bork asked me to ask..."

“Oh, Mr. Burke again, boo!” Hepzpah said, “Ignore him, I'm going to show you something Mr. Burke has never seen before! Can you keep a secret, Tom? Can you promise not to tell Mr. Burke I have this? If he knew I'd shown it to you, he'd never let me live. I'm not selling this. I'm not selling it to Burke. I'm not selling it to anybody! But you, Tom, I know you'll appreciate its history, not just how much gallon you can make...”