I woke up as a 110-year-old Dumbledore.
Looking at the table full of Lemon Olaf and moving portraits, I collapsed.
Professor McGonagall suddenly opened the door: "The Potters were killed last night."
Hell begins! I bit the bullet and played the strongest white wizard in history.
As a result, Phoenix became bald and cried harder than Harry at the funeral.
Voldemort personally came to test the house, and I stuffed a candy into his mouth: "Try the magic of love?"
After he left, I discovered that Fox's tail feathers were entangled in both of our hands.
A red light flashed, and a blood pact ring was tightly wrapped around my ring finger.
Voldemort stared at the ring, his pupils shaking: "Why does this thing work on you and me?!
Purpose: "Greatness" is not something you are born with, but ordinary people can also develop courage and responsibility in the responsibilities they are forced to bear.