Chapter 471 Voldemort's Underpants

Sirius found a large mirror and placed it directly opposite the picture frame, leaving no room for the portrait of old Mrs. Black to escape.

Then, he grabbed a handful of light and shadow powder from the box and sprinkled it on the mirror in a smashing manner.

"All things appear." He chanted the spell loudly, and the mirror began to fluctuate, spreading like ripples on the water.

Harry and others slowly gathered around, curiously looking at the images and sounds gradually appearing in the mirror.

The cat and mouse that was played last night disappeared, replaced by a countdown.

11:30:15, 11:30:14... As the numbers jumped, the live broadcast was approaching step by step.

At the same time, in an empty room in the Ministry of Magic, Roger and Daphne discussed how to transform it. The wizards arranged by Amelia redecorated the room in accordance with Roger's requirements.

"The walls are all replaced with dark wood materials to give people a calm and simple feeling. The ceiling simulates the effect of the starry sky, which is useful for live broadcasts." Roger took out his wand and lightly tapped it to light up a star in the sky.

Daphne's eyes were attracted by the brightest star on the ceiling. She pointed her finger at it gently, and curiosity drove her to ask: "Does this star have any special meaning?"

"Regulus' name comes from the constellation." Roger smiled slightly and added, "Or, the names of the men in the Black family are all related to the stars."

"Like Sirius' name?" Daphne looked at the star and guessed: "So it is Regulus?"

"Bingo!" Roger nodded and explained its meaning: "Regulus is the alpha star of Leo, located in the center of Leo, symbolizing the heart of the constellation."

Hearing Regulus's The name is related to Leo, Daphne couldn't help but speculate curiously: "Then he should be a student of Gryffindor College?"

"No, Regulus graduated from Slytherin." Roger's mouth curled up a smile, and asked sarcastically: "How many students in the Lion Academy know how to use their brains?"

He continued to evaluate, with a hint of disdain in his tone: "Many people just act with courage and loyalty. They may perform well in battle, but war is short after all.

If war can end all disputes, there will be no need for the so-called Ministry of Magic."

"Kreacher, come here." Roger turned aside and waved to the house elf wearing an old pillowcase.

He shook his head and expressed dissatisfaction with Kreacher's clothes: "Where are the clothes I put in the cabin? Why don't you wear them?" There was a hint of blame in his tone, but it was still gentle.

"Master." Kreacher bowed with the utmost respect, his voice full of awe and humility: "Kreacher cannot accept the clothes you gave me, otherwise I will be kicked out of the house."

"No." Roger shook his head, with a barely perceptible smile on his lips: "Who said I was going to give it to you?"

Kreacher raised his head, his eyes carefully resting on Roger's second collar button, not daring to go beyond a point. Compared with other elves in the Travis family, its humility is deep in its bones.

"The Ministry of Magic has passed the preferential treatment decree. I have the responsibility to pay you for your hard work." Roger gently patted Kreacher's thin shoulder and reminded him: "You can use the coins you earn to buy that suit."

He paused, with a trace of unquestionable seriousness in his tone: "Kreacher, your dishonor will bring shame to me as your master."

Kreacher crawled down and kissed Roger's shoe surface passionately, expressing the deepest respect: "Dear master, Kreacher is willing to buy that suit."

Its fingers deftly reached into the ear canal, and with a light click, it took out a dozen glittering Galleons. He presented these coins with both hands, his eyes full of expectations.

"Very good, Kreacher." Roger nodded with satisfaction, and was not disgusted by the dirt on the Galleons.

The same two piles of Galleons, is there still a difference between noble and dirty?

"Kreacher, go and change into that linen suit." Roger pushed Galleon back to Kreacher, his tone commanding but also gentle: "I need you to tell a story tonight, about Voldemort, Kreacher and Regulus. These are my rewards for you."

When Kreacher heard the name of the former master's youngest son, his body froze in place. It had never thought that there was someone in the magic world who knew this deep secret. A complex emotion surged in its heart, with both fear of that experience and awe of Roger.

"If loyalty is not absolute, it is absolutely disloyal. Right, Kreacher?" Roger's eyes flashed with an unfathomable smile, as if testing Kreacher's loyalty.

Without waiting for the elf to answer, he turned around and shouted to the wizard who was decorating: "Make the floor into a lake and the table into an island."

Kreacher's steps became heavy, and his heart was full of doubts and struggles. It looked at the gradually darkening room, as if time had gone back to the mysterious seaside cave fifteen years ago.

Master Regulus had made a pact with it not to tell his mistress what he had done and to destroy the box.

It looked at Roger's back, and a deep sense of humility surged in its heart. A year ago, Roger took the indestructible pendant box from the Black ancestral home. Kreacher realized that his master not only knew the story of Regulus's sacrifice, but also knew the whole incident.

Kreacher's heart was full of contradictions, but he deeply understood that no matter what happened, he must obey his master's orders. Its loyalty is unwavering and must be consistent.

"Now, Mr. Roger Travis is my master." It muttered silently with snot and tears, constantly reminding itself in its heart, "The master's order is the highest law for house elves."

It was not sure whether this was a betrayal of Master Regulus, but the loyalty of the house elves had made a choice.

"It can actually Apparate in the Ministry of Magic?" A wizard was surprised to see Kreacher disappear in front of him in an instant, and couldn't help but screamed out.

Roger shrugged and explained softly: "The magic of house elves is different from that of wizards. They can go to many places we can't reach."

Daphne nodded secretly, as if she had figured out a problem: "No wonder we rarely see house elves cleaning the school."

"They are busy every day." Roger sighed, and felt sincere admiration for the wizards to have such hardworking and loyal servants.

At around six o'clock in the afternoon, all preparations were ready. Miss Percy prepared the manuscript for Amelia, and the Merlin Knights also sent two medals.

Roger changed into a neat black dress. While carefully checking the magic arrangement in the room, he silently proofread the speech to be delivered in his mind. His eyes looked through the dragon crystal magic mirror, as if he saw the faces of countless wizards, such as Sirius, Dumbledore, Voldemort...

The wizards of the British magic world sat around the dining table, ready to enjoy the dinner. On the wall next to the dining table, there was an extra mirror. The time on it was decreasing second by second, as if counting down to an important moment.

From the busy Diagon Alley to the peaceful Hogsmeade Village, from the desolate fertile land to the pleasant Scottish Highlands, from the ordinary Grimmauld Place to the hidden nameless mansion... Whether it was the righteous Aurors or the evil Death Eaters, tonight, countless people were waiting for that moment to come.

With the mermaid singing from the mirror, the time jumped from minutes to seconds, and then everything was reset to zero!

In front of the Dragon Crystal Magic Mirror, a ray of golden light began to rotate and bloom. As Rog waved his wand, the light spread into countless bright stars and finally dissipated in the ceiling.

"Hello, wizards of the British wizarding world." Roger stepped into the screen and said in a very friendly voice: "You see me through the mirror and the light and shadow powder, but I don't know who is in front of the mirror."

"It could be the greatest white wizard in the wizarding world, Headmaster Dumbledore, or it could be the dark lord hidden in the stinking sewer: Voldemort." There was a kind of teasing in his voice, as if he was provoking the nerves of every listener, making them curious and expectant about this novel thing.

"Oh, is anyone exclaiming after hearing Voldemort? Is their hair standing on end? Are you going to write a letter to the Ministry of Magic to complain about me?" Roger chuckled and said indifferently, "Wait a minute, everyone, please allow me to introduce a special guest to everyone."

"Regulus Arcturus Black, he is from Alpha in Leo." Roger pointed his wand to the sky and shot out a dazzling beam of light.

The wizard who controlled the dragon crystal magic mirror quickly adjusted the angle and aimed the mirror at the ceiling. As the beam hit the brightest star on the ceiling, an unexpected explosion sounded in my ears.

The audience put down their spoons one after another, their eyes fixed on the colorful mist.

When the mist dissipated, an illusory figure slowly fell from the sky. He looked very young, about eighteen or nineteen years old. His long hair was draped over his pale forehead, his cheeks were a little sunken, and he exuded a cold temperament, which made Harry in front of the mirror think of Snape.

Rogge did not have the resurrection stone, and there was no way to summon Regulus's ghost from the world of the dead. Perhaps, the dark magic book in the manor library recorded the evil ritual of summoning the dead.

However, the Ministry of Magic and himself did not need the real Regulus, but a "young girl" who could be dressed up by anyone. For example, now, Regulus's phantom was wearing a Slytherin-style robe: the cuffs and collar were decorated with silver-green trims, and a silver snake-shaped school emblem was worn on the chest.

"He's not a ghost, but that doesn't stop me from telling you his story." Roger bowed slightly to pay respect to the shadow of Regulus.

In the Black ancestral home, Sirius left his seat subconsciously after seeing his brother's shadow. When he heard that it was not his brother's ghost, he was dragged back to the house by Lupin.

Harry, Ron, Tonks, Moody... Everyone forgot about the food on the table and stared at everything in the mirror.

"A technology similar to a two-way mirror." In the principal's office, Dumbledore's eyes flashed with a smile.

He really liked the Jackdaw Magic Society organized by Roger. Those clever little wizards could always use commonplace items to make unexpected magic props.

For example, Hermione's projector and Susan's dressing mirror. If Theodore could be more generous, he would be happier. Dumbledore hoped that all wizards could treat Muggles equally, not only in personality, but also in wisdom.

Hermione crossed her legs on the sofa and whispered, "No wonder I can't find anyone! It turns out that Roger went to the Ministry of Magic." Ariana sat quietly beside her, with the corners of her mouth slightly raised, revealing a smile.

"My senior became a Death Eater at the age of 16." Roger's tone was very flat, without any emotion or joy. He was just stating a fact, "Like many people back then, he was attracted by Voldemort's so-called pure-blood declaration."

"However, in the Auror's files, we did not find his criminal record, nor any attack on Muggles or Muggle-born wizards." He held up the file bag on the island, showing it to everyone, and continued: "At first, he might be proud to serve Voldemort, but when he realized the other party's true face, he began to have the determination to fight."

Roger snapped his fingers, and Miss Percy immediately flew Tom Riddle's file over.

"Tom Marvolo Riddle." His wand wrote golden words in the air, and then gently waved it to adjust it into a new phrase, "That is Voldemort."

For the first time, many people in the magic world realized that Voldemort's name came from his real name.

"He claims to be the descendant of Salazar Slytherin, the heir of the sacred pure-blood Gaunt family." Roger raised his head, his sharp eyes shot towards the dragon crystal magic mirror, as if he penetrated the mirror and looked directly at Voldemort in front of a mirror.

"That's true, but it's not pure." Roger's mouth curled up with a sarcastic smile. He deliberately dragged out his voice to reveal Voldemort's secret underwear to the whole magic world. "His mother is indeed a pure-blood wizard, Merope Gaunt. But his father is a Muggle..." Roger's voice was even deeper at this moment, full of dramatic tension, "Tom Riddle (some people translate Riddle as Riddle)." "Regulus discovered the truth. The people he followed were not pure blood. Voldemort's atrocities were just to shape his own cruel rule, not the cause of pure blood." "So, he decided to resist." Roger looked at the phantom of Regulus with reverence, and then said: "Because the motto of the Black family is to be pure forever." Roger learned foreign languages ​​very well and could say this sentence with the accent of the Parisian White Banner. The old lady Black in the picture frame laughed crazily. The bright moonlight shone through the window on her rosy face, and her laughter echoed in the empty room. "Hahaha, Regulus is indeed my proudest son! He is so smart and so sharp!" She shouted to Sirius below, "Did you hear that, you rebellious son! Your brother follows the family's teachings and always remains pure."

"That despicable magic liar, the dirty bastard Riddle, is not worthy of being followed by the Black family." Mrs. Black's laughter became louder and louder, and her mouth seemed to spit out materialized slaps, slapping Sirius in the face.

Sirius' face flushed with anger, and he raised the teacup in his hand and smashed it towards the picture frame. He even drew out his wand and prepared to burn his mother's portrait. Lupin hurriedly grabbed him and advised him not to be impulsive.

Although it was his student standing in the mirror, Lupin still accused: "What if what Roger said was all false? Don't let anger cloud your mind."

However, what Mrs. Black said was not entirely wrong. Voldemort was indeed a despicable and shameless liar. He deceived all the pure-blood families and used their beliefs to serve himself.

"Perhaps you are doubting whether the truth is true." Roger seemed to have heard Lupin's doubts. He put the documents on the isolated island and narrated calmly: "Not long ago, the bones, flesh and blood of three men formed Voldemort's body."

"You can go to investigate the cemetery to see whether his father is a wizard or a Muggle." He shook his head slightly and said in a half-joking tone, "If his father is a Squib, or even a Muggle-born wizard, I can admit that Mr. Voldemort is a pure-blood. A 100% original Gaunt pure-blood wizard without additives."

Roger's words carried a provocative meaning, as if instigating the audience to open the coffin of Voldemort's father to confirm the authenticity of what he said. His relaxed feeling, which was both serious and cynical, attracted everyone deeply in front of the mirror and made it difficult to leave.

"Unfortunately, he is not." Roger laughed playfully, as if mocking Voldemort himself on the other side. His laughter was like a chilling coldness that pierced Voldemort's heart.

Voldemort sat up straight, and the atmosphere in the room suddenly became terrifying and depressing. Peter Pettigrew and others trembled, not even daring to look up at Voldemort's increasingly terrifying snake face.

Suddenly, a spell shot out from the tip of Voldemort's wand, smashing the mirror in front of him into powder. The room fell into a terrifying silence, with only the increasingly nervous breathing of the Death Eaters echoing in the air.

Voldemort twisted his neck and turned his head back and forth, his blood-red snake pupils swept over the Death Eaters one by one, his eyes were like sharp swords, making people shudder.

He could not deny Roger's accusation, because it was true. He once hated the other half of his blood that belonged to his Muggle father so much that he even killed his father's family to cover up this fact.

However, in order to regain his body, he took the initiative to integrate his father's bones into this body. What a mockery, Riddle!

Voldemort's nostrils closed quickly, as if he was sniffing the emotions of the Death Eaters in the air. He sneered and said to Buck: "Move another mirror." His voice was full of threats and oppression with an unquestionable command.

"Yes, Master." Buck still maintained absolute humility, because he had long learned about Voldemort's life experience from his nephew.

Like Regulus, most pure bloods followed Voldemort not to become minions, but to protect the power and glory of pure blood.

Since Dumbledore defeated Grindelwald, he has been promoting a series of policies that favor Muggles and Muggle-born wizards in the wizarding world as a victor.

The interests of the pure-bloods have been damaged, and their power is slowly slipping away. Therefore, they long for a powerful pure-blood wizard to lead everyone, eliminate Albus's wrong ideas, and take back everything that belongs to the pure-bloods.

Coincidentally, Voldemort stood up. Like a hero, he wanted to lead everyone to overthrow Dumbledore's tyranny.

Buck certainly knew that Voldemort was for his own ambitions. But in his eyes, there was no fundamental difference between Albus and Voldemort. Therefore, the pure-bloods were divided in the last war, and everyone had no way out.

He carefully left the room and placed a new mirror in front of Voldemort silently.

"All things appear." After the spell was recited, Roger's face and voice that Voldemort hated reappeared in the mirror.

Beside him, there was also a house elf. Voldemort recognized it, and Sirius recognized it as well.