Moody''s been a little blue lately.


    Because Dumbledore left him again.


    "Am I the redundant one?"


    Looking at the pendant box decorated with finely broken emeralds, the old "crazy eyed man" couldn''t help muttering to himself. He pushed away the sweet and boring honey tea. He poured down a mouthful of flaming whisky in the small flat pot he carried with him.


    Bitter wine goes into the throat and makes the heart ache~


    "I''m mainly afraid of any danger, so I just


    Oh, ALATO, don''t mind. "


    Dumbledore knew that he was suspected of using his old friend as a "tool man", but he still thought his decision was right.


    From the cliff cave to black''s old house, which is not a fierce and dangerous place?


    Alasto is so old that his legs and feet are not good. In case of any accident


    With kleindo insurance.


    That child is very easy to use!


    "Alas ~"


    Sighed, alastor Moody suppressed his unhappiness and carefully examined the new Voldemort''s Horcrux - "Slytherin''s pendant box".


    "There are four more."


    Muttering to himself, a flash of determination flashed in his eyes. (he doesn''t know that "diary" and "snake" have been poisoned by someone)


    "Yes."


    Without explanation, Dumbledore nodded with deep eyes.


    The chips in their hands are increasing bit by bit.


    Sooner or later, these chips will completely tilt the balance of victory!


    ......


    "Sneeze!"


    The cold wind blew on his bald head. Peter with a shovel only felt a bucket of ice water thrown from head to foot.


    In January, when he was dying, he didn''t even have a decent coat and was still wearing that ragged suit


    Bitter.


    When a mouse, it can at least eat and wear warm clothes, which is not like now.


    "Peter..."


    Peter is in a trance.


    Suddenly, a weak voice came from his mind. Voldemort''s mouth was half open behind Peter''s head.


    "Put your scarf around, you fool."


    The great Lord Voldemort is full of wind!


    Although, he has no stomach.


    "Yes, yes, my great master."


    Peter was obedient and covered the back of his head.


    He rubbed his dirty hands full of black mud and looked around.


    "Master, we should be here."


    "Well..."


    Voldemort replied. He didn''t know whether he was tired or how. He fell into a long silence.


    This is little Hangleton, the Riddell family cemetery.


    "Hoo ~"


    Peter was relieved to hear the affirmative answer.


    Avoiding the Ministry of magic and "death bloom" all the way, they finally sneaked back to Britain, came here and took the first step of making a comeback.


    There were few tombstones in the cemetery, and he soon found his goal: Tom Riddell.


    Push down the tombstone and dig the grave.


    Waving the stolen shovel, Peter hurriedly began to dig.


    He has short hands and digs very slowly.


    But the victory lies in perseverance.


    Anyway, there was a wasteland around. There was no one at all. He dug for a while and rested for a while, but there was no accident.


    At dawn, Peter finally finished his work and saw the old and blackened coffin.


    "Well."


    After swallowing and spitting, he carefully cleaned the soil around the coffin. Then he put the shovel head of the shovel against the edge of the coffin and tilted it with force.


    "Creak."


    The old coffin made a sour sound, accompanied by an indescribable stench.


    At the smell, Peter turned his eyes up and almost fainted.


    Fortunately, he was also a man who had experienced in great winds and waves. He barely kept awake and didn''t make any jokes.


    When the cold wind blew, the stench deposited in the coffin was almost dispersed. He breathed a sigh of relief and looked at the body in the coffin.


    Well, it''s not appropriate to say it''s a corpse.


    Decades passed, old Tom Riddle has rotted into a pile of bones.


    "Good... Peter... You did a good job."


    Voldemort''s voice rang out in his mind again.


    "Take his bones and let''s go."


    Voldemort had no feelings for his father. There was only infinite disgust.


    If the old rebirth magic didn''t need "father''s bone", he wanted to take old Tom Riddell is resurrected, abused and then killed!


    "Well, master, can you bring ashes?"


    Looking at the white bones in the coffin, Peter was worried.


    He is an unregistered Animagus. Because of his particularity, he can avoid many people''s eyes and ears and complete unexpected sneaking.


    If you wear a big bone stick, it''s too easy to expose.


    "Huh?"


    Voldemort was stunned at Peter''s proposal.


    In theory, "father''s bone" is just a concept. What he needs for resurrection is the hidden resentment. The ashes and bones are the same.


    be turned to dust?


    Voldemort was excited and said fiercely.


    "Good idea, burn it for me!"


    If life can''t frustrate its bones, then dust it after death.


    After so long, Voldemort finally met a pleasant thing. With his mind open, even his feeling of weakness was reduced a lot.


    "Yes."


    You don''t have the courage to kill. You''re best at setting fire.


    Peter smiled, picked up a pile of dry branches, tried several times, and finally lit the fire without a magic wand.


    The fire became more and more fierce. He picked up the bones in the coffin and threw them into the fire one by one


    The temperature is not enough, time is needed.


    He burned for almost five hours before he put old Tom to sleep Riddle went from a pile of bones to a pile of ashes.


    "Put some away and give me the rest!"


    The voice of the filial son Voldemort revealed joy.


    That bastard doesn''t deserve to leave any proof of existence in this world!


    "Yes, my master."


    Such a job is easier than dealing with the Ministry of magic or the crazy people of "death bloom". With a flattering smile, Peter tore off the rags from his clothes, wrapped some ashes and put them away safely.


    Then he grabbed a handful of ashes with residual temperature and tried to lift them into the sky.


    The ashes were soon dispersed by the wind.


    "Hahaha, good, Peter, well done!"


    Voldemort was very happy.


    This is really the happiest time for him in the past two years.


    Yang''s good, but not enough!


    "Give me all the ashes. Give me all the ashes."


    On the back of Peter''s head, Voldemort had red eyes and a ferocious expression.


    Sooner or later, his enemies will be like old Tom Riddell was frustrated by him!


    "Yes, master!"


    Although he was tired and hungry, his master was happy. Peter had to cheer up, grabbed a large handful of ashes in both hands, and tried to fly into the sky as just now.


    But just then, an accident happened.


    The icy north wind roared past, and the ashes just lifted by Peter were blown back in the direction of the wind!


    Peter, with his mouth wide open, had no time to react, and his face was covered with gray.


    Um


    It tastes salty.