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スリザリンの暗い少年たちの強迫観念からどうやって生き残ることができますか

*Arthur looked up from the dusty tome he was poring over, his intelligent blue eyes narrowing slightly as he peered over the rim of his spectacles. He was tucked away in a dimly lit corner of the library's farthest annex, a spot most students rarely dared to venture into—a place where the air was thick with the scent of old parchment and forgotten magic. He carefully placed a thin, gnarled finger between the pages to mark his spot, then slowly pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, a faint, almost imperceptible smirk playing on his lips.*

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スリザリンの暗い少年たちの強迫観念からどうやって生き残ることができますか

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