Chapter 1490 Gold Cup

"In short, Armando rejected Voldemort's application to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts." Dumbledore said, "After the application was rejected, he went to Borgin-Bock shop, and all the teachers who admired him said it was a pity that such a Brilliant young wizards went to work as clerks. But Voldemort was not just any clerk, he was polite, handsome and intelligent, and soon got a special job that only a place like Borgin-Bock could have. You all know, This shop specializes in selling magic items that don't have special properties or are priceless. Voldemort was sent to persuade people to give treasures to sell in the shop, and it is said that he was particularly good at it."

"I believe it!" said Harry.

"I believe it too, but this is exactly what we should be careful about, Professor." Ivan followed up. It was precisely because he knew too well what Voldemort was good at and what was scary that he didn't trust the guy in the ring. If Dumbledore Lido had better be careful what he was going to do with fifteen-year-old Riddle.

Now Voldemort has gained powerful magical powers, but lost the power of camouflage and demagoguery.

The fifteen-year-old Riddle in the ring is not. He is very weak, but he is very good at confusing others.

"Yes, yes, I will pay attention!" said Dumbledore with a feeble smile, "Now, you should listen to the memory of the house-elf Hokey, whose master was an old, very Rich witch named Hepzibah Smith."

Dumbledore said, pouring the memory in the crystal bottle he had just taken out into the Pensieve.

"Come on, you go in first, Ivan, and pay attention to the golden cup we are about to see."

gold cup? Hufflepuff's Cup? ! Voldemort's other Horcrux? !

Could it be that the specific location of the house elf's home has something to do with the Gold Cup?

With all kinds of questions, Ivan entered the Pensieve.

He fell somersaulting through the dark void into a living room.

Alvin saw that appearing in front of him was a very fat, very fat old lady, wearing a delicate ginger wig, and a gorgeous pink gown spread around her, making her look like a melting piece. ice cream cake.

She was facing a small jeweled mirror, applying rouge to her already brightly red cheeks with a large powder puff.

One of the smallest and oldest house-elfs in the world, presumably Hokey the house-elf, was fitting a pair of tight satin buckle buckles on the fat old lady's feet.

"Come on, Hao Qi!" said Hepziba imperiously. "He said to come at four, and it's only two minutes away, and he's never been late."

She tucked away her powder puff, and the house-elf straightened up until her head reached Hepzibah's cushion, and the papery skin hung from the frame like the fine linen robe she wore.

"How am I?" Hepzibah asked, turning her head to admire her mirrored face from every angle.

"It's beautiful, ma'am," Hao Qi said sharply.

It was so embarrassing for the house-elf that she had to grit her teeth and lie when she got back to the question, because Hepzibah Smith was far from beautiful, but she obviously wouldn't have tolerated any other answer from her house-elf.

Ai Wen guessed that maybe this kind of torture was the main reason why Hao Qi looked so thin and old.

You know, house elves are not good at lying, especially when facing their masters, but at this moment, Hao Qi has to lie...

It is said that in ancient times, a witch who was confident in her appearance but was actually ugly made a magic mirror.

She asks the mirror every day, "Magic mirror, magic mirror, who is the most beautiful woman in the world?" Although she is asking the magic mirror, she can only answer one thing, that is, she is the most beautiful woman in the world. beautiful woman.

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

This shows how much pressure the house-elf Hao Qi will have.

Just then, the doorbell rang, and the hostess and the elf jumped up.

"Quick, quick, here he comes, Hokey!" cried Hepzibah, and the elf ran out of the house.

The room was so crowded that it was impossible to imagine anyone walking through the room without knocking over at least a dozen things. With cabinets displaying lacquered lockets, shelves lined with gilded books, shelves with stars and astrographs, and many lush plants growing in copper vessels, the room looked like a patchwork of magical curio shops and greenhouses. up.

The elf came back in a while, followed by a tall young man, it was Voldemort!

To be precise, it was the adult Voldemort, almost twenty years old.

He was wearing a black suit, his hair was longer than when he was in school, and his cheeks were sunken, but Aiwen had to admit that these suited him very well, and this outfit made him look more handsome, and he was more handsome than he was in Sla a few years ago. As at Ghorn's private parties, he himself seemed to radiate too much to ignore.

Voldemort walked cautiously through the crowded room, which seemed to have been many times.

Then, he bent down low, and lightly touched Hepziba's chubby hand with his lips.

"I brought you flowers, ma'am!" he whispered, conjuring a bouquet of roses in his hand.

"You naughty boy, you shouldn't!" screamed old Hepziba, who had an empty vase ready on a side table, "you're spoiling me old lady, Tom, Sit down, sit down quickly... Where is Hao Qi, ah..."

The house-elf rushed into the room with a tray of small pastries, and set the tray at the elbow of the mistress.

"Eat whatever you want, Tom." Hepziba said dotingly, "I know you like my pastry very much. How are you doing? Your face is a little pale, and you seem to be a little thin. The store used you too hard , I have told Bok a hundred times!"

Hepzibah giggled, and Voldemort smiled mechanically.

"Hey, what's your excuse for coming to see me this time?" she asked, blinking her eyelashes.

"Mr. Bork wanted to offer a higher price for the goblin armor, five hundred Galleons. He thought it was fair enough."

"Oh, oh, don't be in such a hurry, or I'll think you're only here for my fun!" Hepzibah pouted, "We can talk about other things..."

"But it was for them that I was sent," said Voldemort softly, interrupting Hepzibah with grace, "I am only a little clerk, ma'am, at orders, and Mr. Bork wants I asked……"

"Oh, it's Mr. Bock again, bah!" Hepziba said with a wave of his little hand, "Ignore him, I want to show you something that Mr. Bock has never seen before! Can you keep it secret, Tom? Can you Promise not to tell Mr. Bock I have this? He'll never let me live if he knows I showed you. I won't sell this, not to Bock, not to anybody! But you, Tom, I know you will appreciate its history, not just thinking about how many galleons you can earn..."