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v7 Chapter 39 We're friends
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... , but he was a little cold, wrapped his little black robe tightly, and baked his bare feet all the year round over the flames.
The originally cramped and closed room immediately exuded a strange smell.
Voldemort's shadow, stretched by the firelight, was projected on the long table.
A group of Death Eaters sat on either side of the long table, shrouded in that huge shadow.
No one dared to speak, just bowed his head like a mute.
It seems that as long as he bows h ...
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