My Classmate at Hogwarts is Voldemort

"So you are here."

Two seconds after the doorbell rang, the door lock was unscrewed. Tom pushed open the door with a big strip-shaped box in his arms and walked in, "I heard that the question mark was crazy, but you were not here, so I asked Deng Bullido, he told me you went back to Jonas' house... Are you sick? Close the curtains and light the fireplace in summer."

Tom was almost blown out by the heat wave in the house. He covered his mouth and nose and waved his sleeves. With a crisp sound of "stinging", the curtains pulled himself apart, and the sunlight poured through the open windows one by one. As the light came in, Tom wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand, leaned the broom box in his hand against the door frame, and walked straight towards Nelson without closing the door behind him.

"I see that the fireplace hasn't been burned for a long time."

"Charles I's gallows hasn't been used for a long time," Tom pouted, and took out from his arms the infinite refill Coke that Nelson left on the stand, and picked a withered flower from the flower pot on the table and turned it into The straw was inserted into the cup and sucked "tons and tons". He gave Nelson a blank look and said sarcastically, "I suggest you go to the street to catch two lucky tourists and hang them."

"This is different," Nelson looked at Tom, who was still sweating on his forehead, shook his head with a smile, and handed him an ice bucket. "The fireplace is a daily necessities, and we value practicality more."

"Hmph," Tom took the ice bucket, and stuffed the weak bottle in his hand, "Instead of giving me the ice bucket, why didn't you just put out the fire?"

Tom didn't press on any further, and talked about another matter.

"I just went to Dumbledore to ask where you have been. Adele's broom is too long and it doesn't fit well. I just applied to come to London by the way," Tom said mysteriously, "He The armor at the door of the office saw that it was me, so he put me in it directly. By the way, he asked me to tell you that it is best to use fruit wax when waxing him... Guess I am in Dumbledore's office Who did you see?"

"Sigmund?"

"It's actually—" Tom raised his eyebrows and said, "Yes, it's him, do you know what he's here for? Isn't this old boy Grindelwald all along?"

"Grindelwald doesn't role-play all the time," Nelson shook his head. "Principal Sigmund's visit to London this time should be to prepare for the funeral."

"Funeral?" said Tom seriously. "Whose funeral?"

"Ludwig is dead."

"who?"

"Ludwig Kant," Nelson repeated, "your opponent in the Triwizard Tournament."

Tom pulled out a chair, with a normal expression, and seemed unaffected by the news, but his slightly froze movements revealed his inner unrest. Tom was stunned for half a second, as if he was thinking about Ludwig. Who is Kant? After a while, he regained his composure, pulled out the chair and sat on it, turned to look at Nelson, and asked, "I remember that he is still young, and he doesn't have any chronic illnesses. Could it be a sudden illness? Or Did I hear wrong? His grandpa passed away?"

"He died under the wand," Nelson shook his head, "just like a Muggle died under the bullet. Dumbledore watched his chest was pierced by the magic spell and fell into nine and three-quarters." Platform."

He pressed his hand on the table, where the parchment that recorded Ludwig's last life lay, hidden in the light of the flames from Tom to see, Nelson rubbed his finger on the final period of the parchment , pushed it to Tom.

"See for yourself."

Tom nodded, took the parchment, and read it carefully.

"I was a little bit wrong in my previous conception,"

"These people are really..." Tom put the parchment back on the table, pursed his lips and frowned.

"So you see why I light the fireplace?"

"Sorry, I still don't quite understand how it works."

"Oh, my question," Nelson smiled, put his feet off the coffee table, ignored Tom's statement "I should take a picture for Bella to see", and turned to look at the burning Compared with the warm orange light of burning pine wood in ordinary fireplaces, this flame is undoubtedly much more dazzling, even after the curtains are drawn, it is still dazzling, "I forgot to tell you."

After finishing speaking, he pulled out his wand, tiny drops of water appeared around his palm, and finally condensed into a round ball of pure water on the tip of the wand, he pointed the wand towards the fireplace, and the water ball flew past with a "whoosh" , the flame went out with a sizzling sound, but the light in the fireplace became more and more dazzling.

Tom looked intently, but could only see the billowing steam where the water was evaporated. In the cracks of the steam, there was a faint sound of electric light bursting in his ears. He even felt his cheeks becoming numb in the process of getting wet. With a wave of his wand, a light breeze blew the moisture away, revealing the glowing embers in the hearth.

A spear that Tom is very familiar with and used by Nelson to stick many things is stuck on both sides of the fireplace. The swift and fierce Brontosaurus surrounds the spear, piercing the air from time to time, bursting out dazzling arcs, only There was such a splash of green that Tom rubbed his eyes and almost didn't recognize what it was.

He looked intently, and saw an extremely weak figure lingering on the barrel of the silver gun. This translucent green shadow reminded him of Professor Binns in the history of magic class. It seemed to be the state of the soul, but In common sense, the soul that cannot be touched by the real thing is pierced by the spear. The complicated carvings on the barrel of the gun are ferocious and sinister barbs to the enemy. , but was tightly bound by the electric arc around him, making this captured soul desperate for death.

"Hiss—" Tom made a difficult inhalation sound. In order to test his conjecture, he waved his wand, and a small black translucent snake emerged from the gap in the floor, gliding deftly in the arc, and finally jumped. When he got to the green figure, he bit off a piece. After confirming that it was a soul, Tom looked at Nelson and asked, "Where did you get such a guy?"

"This is the dark wizard who controlled Ludwig's grandfather to kill him," Nelson explained. "I just caught him."

"Then you're really quick." Tom didn't show any compassion, "Kill him to pay homage to Ludwig?"

"This is the leader of the rogue gang. It can help us solve the problems that have been plaguing Ludwig in Prussia. This is also the problem that will trouble me."

"Didn't you promise Dumbledore to ignore these things?" Tom asked, but soon couldn't help laughing again, "No, you're not like that."

"I've been at Hogwarts, is there a problem?" Nelson replied solemnly, "This is internal affairs, Tom, but I want you to do me a favor."

"He will write his autobiography with peace of mind," Tom glanced at the soul. The little snake opened its mouth that was many times bigger than its head and even its body, and swallowed him in one gulp. Its belly quickly swelled into a struggling body. Human form, but this struggle soon disappeared, the little snake hiccupped, returned to its original size, slipped into the cracks in the floor tiles, and slipped away, "use his best writing style."

"Prussia does not exist in any preset model, and there are sneaky pushers behind it." Nelson dug out a bottle of fruit wine that Jonas had hidden from under the coffee table, unscrewed the cap and poured cup, handed Tom a cup, "To Ludwig Kant."

"To Ludwig Kant."

"Wait, I suddenly found a problem." After drinking the last sip from the bottom of the glass, Tom turned his head and looked at the hair bouncing on Nelson's head, his eyes gradually narrowed, "Why are you taller than me? I didn’t notice it before, could it be because you have long body and short legs?”

"..."

The doubts in Tom's eyes became more and more, he glanced at Nelson's sitting posture, and his eyes stayed on the box Nelson was sitting on.

"What's sitting under your butt?" Tom breathed a sigh of relief, "Was that broken box that Dumbledore gave you?"

"This is a gift from a friend." Nelson stood up, found the old notebook from the sofa, hesitated for a moment, and threw it at Tom. The pages of the book spread in the air like butterfly wings, and the dusty notebook The text trembled into the light, "An Encyclopedia of Dark Arts, to be precise, an Encyclopedia of Dark Arts dedicated to the study of Grindelwald."

"A friend? Studying Grindelwald?" Tom reached out, grabbed the notebook, and asked suspiciously, "Could it be Dumbledore? He finally plans to use black magic to defeat black magic?"

"Why do you think it's Dumbledore?" Nelson asked back, spreading his hands.

"Who else is so keen on research besides him—" Tom opened the note in his hand, glanced briefly at first, but soon, he couldn't even finish his sentence, and his eyes and expression became serious .

"People who are keen on studying Grindelwald may not because they care about him, but they may also want to defeat him." Nelson said, "I'm afraid this is really a possibility."

Tom didn't answer Nelson's words, but just stared at the pages of the book intently. After an unknown period of time, he finally finished reading the contents of the first few pages and turned to the page number recording black magic. He would still take a serious look at the first few pages , but soon began to skip quickly until the last page of letters fell into his eyes.

Finally, he closed the notebook and let out a long sigh, "It's really your handwriting!"

"How do you feel, Tom."

"Damn," Tom was silent for a moment, then shook his fist, "you did what I always wanted to do."

"What? Give Grindelwald a knife?"

Tom shook his head and did not speak. After a moment of silence, he carefully placed the notebook on the table and asked, "Is this thing credible? What if it was forged by Dumbledore, or even given to Dumbledore?" Lido's people forged..."

Seeing that the story is about to enter an endless cycle like a matryoshka doll, Tom is the first to refute himself: "If it is not necessary, don't increase the entity, what am I talking about?"

Nelson poked at the notebook with his outstretched hand, and under the pressure, the Lost Fog was squeezed out from the gaps in the paper.

"The text on this notebook is not written with a pen, but the nature of the paper has been permanently changed by the use of transfiguration, although the notebook has gone through a long time of wandering and the magic power has become thinner, and there is a stench of black magic , but this is indeed my method," Nelson let go of his hand and lay back on the back of the sofa, "but I suspect in my eyes that Grindelwald had given me drugs to reduce my intelligence for a long time when this notebook was born, otherwise I would It is impossible to make such an unthinkable decision.”

"You started again." Tom smiled sideways.

"I've learned from the past," Nelson argued. "After all, Jokunda Sykes sneaked into my schoolbag and dropped the crooked demon, which led to-"

"Since there are lessons learned, why are there mistakes?" Tom interrupted Nelson's defense, and said with a smile, "I thought with your wisdom, after being poisoned once, it would be impossible in your life Poisoned, after all, you were the one who told Alastor Moody to bring your own drink to prevent others from plotting."

"Well, you're right about that."

"So that's your decision, isn't it?" Tom stretched out his arm and patted Nelson on the shoulder. "Lord Narindvor."

It can be seen that he scoffed at everything described in this notebook. After all, when he saw the sentence "The girl I saved in the United States went to Ilphmony" in the notebook, he knew that even if it was true, The writer of the notes had also parted ways with Nelson at least by the time they traveled to America to trouble Second Salem.

"Maybe Grindelwald was already influencing you when you were surrounded by lackeys from the Magical Congress of America." Tom commented, "If this is true, I think it should be renamed "The Savior Tom Riddle". ",What do you think?"

"Indeed, if this is true," Nelson said with a wry smile, "then the only decision I can call correct may be to send this note to the past... No, it should be sent to the future for him."

"If what is said here is true, then this notebook may have drifted in time for countless times..." Tom stroked the cover of the notebook and analyzed, "Judging from the degree of damage to it, we may not Not the first to see it."

"Time-Turner..."

"Actually, I think the time converter is quite unreasonable."

"Why?"

"Think about the story you told me before, which is the imaginary future where I fell into madness after losing my hair," Tom curled his lips, thinking, "Since so many people want to deal with me, why doesn't Dumbledore How about using a time-turner to go back to 1938 or even earlier, and quietly stab me in the throat while I was still imagining myself as a person with special abilities in the Xicheng Orphanage?"