Harry Potter’s Natural Villain

"Hiss..." Nagini's cold letter licked on Peter Pettigrew's pitted face.

This is a gloomy cave, surrounded by many stalactite-like black rocks, water droplets flowing down the rocks, splashing ticking on the ground, under the silence, this sound is particularly harsh.

"Are you awake? Wormtail?" A cold voice sounded in Peter Pettigrew's ears.

The man lying on the ground was jolted, and immediately rolled from the ground, crawling at Voldemort's feet in fear.

Voldemort was sitting on a stone seat at this time, which should have been conjured by Transfiguration, and the Dark Lord was looking coldly at Peter Pettigrew under his feet.

"That's the end of my resurrection, which announces the return, isn't it? I was beaten like a bereaved dog by that hateful old man. Voldemort has never been so humiliated, and I will wash away this hatred with blood. "

"Master, you just made a temporary mistake this time, I will soon get used to this body." Peter Pettigrew said flatteringly.

"Interesting, you're not only stupid, but also forgetful, Wormtail, have you forgotten something?" Voldemort asked coldly.

Peter Pettigrew shivered again.

"Blood of the enemy?" Voldemort murmured. "I think that using Harry Potter's blood as a medicine will give me more power than before. No enemy means more to me than him."

"But what shocked Voldemort happened. What he didn't expect was that the servant's flesh and blood was stained with the servant's blood. What he didn't even expect was that his servant actually regarded him as an enemy."

"I messed up all my plans because of you, Wormtail." Voldemort's voice was frighteningly cold at this time.

"Forgive me, master, forgive me." At this moment, Peter Pettigrew's tears and snot started to interweave on his face, and he kowtowed like smashing garlic.

He struggled and crawled towards Voldemort's feet, hoping for mercy from his master.

"Nagini, after all, you're still having a good time, aren't you?" Voldemort shifted his foot to avoid Peter Pettigrew's plea.

This ferocious python had already begun to wriggle, and the body connected with the snake's head began to wrap around Peter Pettigrew's calf.

"Master, no, master, I'm still useful, I'm still useful, please, give your faithful servant another chance!" Pettigrew Peter begged for mercy incoherently, but his body did not dare to resist in the slightest.

It will only die faster.

"Faithful? This is the funniest joke I've ever heard." Voldemort stretched out his pale, slender fingers and looked at him silently, no longer looking at the poor, squatty creature.

Calf, thigh, waist... neck, Nagini's icy body kept sliding, winding upwards, and was in close contact with Peter Pettigrew's body.

Pettigrew Peter only felt a slippery and cold touch on his neck, Nagini's body almost wrapped Peter's whole body, Peter Pettigrew was the only exposed head at this time.

He felt that his lungs had begun to gradually lose their function, and he could no longer breathe the outside air, and his pale complexion had now turned into a painful purplish red like pig liver.

Nagini began to shrink his body.

"Alas." Voldemort sighed, "In all these years, I have not only been thinking about how to make a comeback, but also another question, how can people achieve the greatest pain? How about torturing mudbloods and ordinary Muggles? How can it make them feel hopeless?"

"The Cruciatus? No, it just magnifies the pain that people feel countless times, and the nerves will become numb after the pain reaches the extreme, um... It seems like this, I have met a few such disobedient wizards,

The willpower is amazing. I tortured them with the Cruciatus Curse, and they were able to hold on to it without begging for mercy. Until the end, it seemed that they could not feel the pain. Even if they were enemies, they still won the respect of Voldemort. "

"And then I guess, how does the physical pain compare to the mental pain?" Voldemort began to recall his past triumphantly.

"For me, death is the most painful existence. How shameful and terrifying." Voldemort's slender fingers clenched into fists at this time.

"But stupid people, they don't seem to think so, they think that something ethereal like 'love', 'sacrifice' can conquer death?"

"If so, why did the boy's parents still die? Why didn't they completely defeat me and give me a chance to survive?" Voldemort didn't seem to care about recalling that humiliating past.

"Well, let me go back to the topic, after all, you don't have much time in your life." Voldemort sneered, his dark eyes staring at Peter Pettigrew who was entangled in it, "I just said that the physical Torture doesn't seem to be extreme, does it?"

"Those hard bones... don't beg for mercy even if the Cruciatus is cast..." Voldemort's pale face showed an extremely happy expression, and he laughed wickedly.

"I cast the Imperius Curse on them, made them kill each other, and released them after they were mortally wounded."

"Comrades-in-arms who fought together, wizards who advocated sacrifice and dedication killed their comrades with their own hands. It's really interesting."

"The expression of despair, shock, pain, and helplessness is really indescribable, but I can definitely smell the smell of hatred in the air at that time, hate me, or hate myself?"

Voldemort shook his head, "I don't know." A cold voice echoed in the cave.

"Ah, I seem to have created a new technique today." Voldemort's slender and pale fingers clasped a black stone in front of him, making a dull sound.

"The Cruciatus? To you?" Voldemort looked at Peter Pettigrew and shook his head again. "It's a bit of a waste. I suspect that you can't bear it at all, and then you pass out. This doesn't achieve my purpose of punishing you."

"Nagini's strength will be controlled, he won't strangle you all at once, don't worry, you will feel the passage of your life bit by bit in the process of being extremely awake. For you who betray your friends because you are greedy for life and fear death, it should be the most appropriate punishment."

"Betrayal didn't bring you any good future either, because of your stupidity, did it?"

"Lord..." Peter Pettigrew's eyeballs swelled terribly at this time, and they began to congeal, covered with bloodshots, as if they would be squeezed out and fall to the ground at any time. The whole body began to make a rattling sound. Under the influence of Gini's twist, it began to dislocate.

Only halfway through his plea for mercy, he was stopped by the snake's body that was wrapped even more tightly.

"Thorn." This may be the sound of broken bones.

Peter Pettigrew, who had never resisted, actually began to shake his hand and struggled with all his might.

But it was in vain.

Most wizards, after losing their wands, are no different from Muggles, or even worse, because they are used to relying on extraordinary powers to solve life's little troubles.

If Nagini had just wrapped around Peter's body, he still had a chance to escape, then now, when Nagini had wrapped around Peter's neck, even if Voldemort was not present, Peter had already been sentenced to death.

The flame of survival in Peter Pettigrew's cloudy eyes began to die out gradually. He felt that he had completely lost the ability to breathe, and he had lost the ability to think. Part of the body, but not moving at all.

Because his hand has been imprisoned long ago.

"I'll go out first, Nagini, remember to eat clean, and I'll come back to deal with other things later." Voldemort glanced at Peter Pettigrew, then tapped his wand indifferently, and a stone door opened in response. The man dragged his robe and walked out.

"Uh...ah..." This was the last bit of Peter Pettigrew's voice left in the world. ) Download Free Reader!!