Chapter 508
Beech and Oak
Chapter 508 Beech and Oak
The beech tree came to the man in black, dug up the moist soil, and dug its roots into the ground. Then, as if it breathed a sigh of relief, all its branches and leaves shook and it became quiet again.
The man in black pointed his wand at the spruce trees in front of him and whispered a long spell. His voice was drowned out by the sound of the rain, and even if you were standing next to him, you probably couldn't hear it clearly.
But the spruce tree in front seemed to have heard his words, and its branches began to shake unnaturally. Then, the originally straight trunk bent, as if it had stretched.
The ground nearby began to tremble, surge, and crack, as if some huge beast was about to drill out from the ground. The surrounding bushes and weeds fell down, and some insects crawled out in panic and fled in all directions.
But before the soil on the surface completely split, the man in black patted the trunk of the spruce, and everything became quiet again.
At this time, another sneaky figure emerged from the depths of the woods, walked timidly to the front of the spruce, and drew a circle of magic symbols on it with a pen.
The man in black watched silently, and after the symbols were drawn, he pointed his magic wand again, and the black magic patterns emitted a faint, dark green light, and then disappeared.
"Go on." He said in a cold tone, "Before the rain stops, you have to finish painting all the trees that are thicker than three people's arms."
The other person agreed reluctantly with a bitter face, carrying a pen and a bucket, and went to look for other big trees. He couldn't shield his face from the rain and looked like he had a miserable life.
Golden hair slipped out from the edge of the hood and stuck wetly to his face. The man shivered with cold, his hands and feet were cold, but he didn't dare to complain at all.
A flash of lightning streaked across the sky, suddenly illuminating the dark forest and the rather handsome face under the hood.
Lockhart was much thinner than before, and there were several terrible scars on his neck. He hunched his back and walked weakly towards another very thick oak tree.
The man in black staring at him from behind was none other than Barty Crouch Jr. His cold and contemptuous eyes made Lockhart shudder. He wanted to escape, but when he thought of Voldemort's methods, he was so scared that he didn't even dare to think of resisting.
Besides, he had no way of escaping.
Voldemort cast an extremely vicious curse on him. If Lockhart tried to escape or betray Voldemort or leak information, he would be killed by the curse.
——Instead of this, it would have been better for me to stay in Azkaban!
Lockhart couldn't help but think of this.
But then, he remembered the horror of the Dementors, the despair, loneliness and emptiness in prison, and couldn't help shivering twice.
For a moment, Lockhart compared them and couldn't tell whether the Dementors were more terrifying or Voldemort was more frightening.
All in all, no matter which one it was, he suffered a lot.
Thinking back to the days when I was a best-selling author, adored by countless fans, and surrounded by many teenage girls at Hogwarts, it all seems so beautiful as a dream.
Lockhart was sobbing as he drew magic patterns on the tree. With his eyes blurred by tears, he accidentally drew a few wrong symbols.
He was so shocked and scared that he forgot to cry. He secretly glanced behind him and saw that Barty Crouch Jr. was casting a spell on another big tree and didn't notice him. Only then did he feel relieved.
He also didn't dare let Barty Crouch Jr. discover his mistake - most of the materials used in this barrel of potion were contraband, and Gar had traveled far and wide to get this much.
If that cold-hearted devil knew that he had drawn it wrong, he would at least be tortured, and he might even be captured and fed to Nagini...
Damn Death Eaters, they have no humanity even towards their own accomplices!
Lockhart cursed Barty Crouch Jr. to die soon while carefully covering the wrong part with his hands. He tried to mobilize his magic power, and his face turned red. Finally, he saw the symbols gradually fade and disappear. In extreme fear, he actually successfully cast a wandless spell!
Lockhart had no time to celebrate, fearing that Barty Crouch Jr. would discover that he had spent too long on this tree, so he quickly finished the painting and went to find the next tree.
Another yew tree stirred, then died down again.
Little Barty caught a glimpse of Lockhart looking around in the woods, as if he was a thief, and he made a disdainful "tsk" sound.
He was about to leave when suddenly a corner of his robe was pulled. Barty frowned and looked over, and saw that it was the short beech tree, and one of its horizontal branches had caught his robe.
This is their first experiment.
I don't know if it's because the tree is too young, so it acts like a child after being awakened; or because the trunk is too thin, resulting in incomplete magic patterns. In short, it just can't disguise itself quietly like other big trees.
This little tree likes to run around everywhere, just like a little chick. It always likes to follow behind little Batty and can't be chased away or shaken off.
Little Barty pulled his robe back, walked around it, and headed for another big tree. Not long after he walked, he heard a rustling sound behind him.
He turned his head suddenly and saw the beech tree following him carefully like a cat on tiptoe. When it saw him turn his head, it stopped in a hurry and pretended to be just a normal tree.
Little Barty frowned and continued walking forward. After a while, Beech really followed him on tiptoe.
Perhaps it was because the forest at night would silently evoke the fear and loneliness in his heart, he actually felt that such company was not bad, and even had a desire to confide in others.
"Can you understand what I'm doing? Of course you can't - because you're just a tree without a brain."
The beech tree shook its branches, pleased that he had acquiesced to its following and even spoken to it.
As for what little Batty said, it naturally couldn't understand it and couldn't convey it to anyone.
So little Barty felt more at ease to confide his innermost thoughts - people with too many secrets always need a "tree hole", and little Barty is no exception.
"The potion, my father's bones, the servants' flesh, all these things are ready. All that remains is the blood of my enemies. All that remains is... Harry Potter."
Little Barty lowered his voice and said:
"But the boy is too well protected. I need an opportunity... We need to create an extremely chaotic scene to sneak him out of the circle of protection, and we cannot be tracked by Dumbledore before the master is completely resurrected."
"This match is a great opportunity... In a few days, there will be 100,000 wizards gathered in the stadium, and Harry Potter is among them. You saw him, too, right?"
Little Batty turned his head and looked at the oval stadium, muttering: "The betrayers, the opponents, and those ignorant fools who were protected, they all need to pay a painful price!"
(End of this chapter)