My Classmate at Hogwarts is Voldemort
Chapter 117: Bloody love story
"Oh... it's you, Gnar."
Tom rubbed his sleepy eyes, the milky-white nightcap on his head slid to the side, a grass-green ball of fur trembled, he covered his mouth and yawned, stretched his hand to the side and fumbled by the pillow, lifted the quilt from Get down on the bed.
Nelson held the two-way mirror in his hand, as if watching a horror documentary filmed by a handheld camera.
"Are you just getting up?"
"Yes," raised his head and glanced at the wall clock in the bedroom, lowered his head to look in the mirror, rubbed his eyes again, and said weakly, "Actually, I just slept recently."
"Tom?"
"what's happenin?"
"Tom Riddle? Is it really you?" Nelson's mouth twitched, and he asked uncertainly, "Have you been possessed by Slytherin? I have never seen anyone in bed after 8 o'clock in the morning. Tom Riddle."
"What are you talking about?" Tom opened the bathroom door and set the mirror aside. He took a look and found that Nelson was placed upright, so he nodded in satisfaction, picked up the dental bowl and prepared to wash, in his mouth Holding a sip of water, he said vaguely, "I stayed in the secret room all night last night, and I didn't go out to fool around."
"You are really eager to learn." Nelson licked his teeth, admiring insincerely.
"That's not it," Tom gave Nelson a blank look, and continued with a bubble in his mouth. "I found a powerful magic that even a mediocre wizard can blow up a street with a spell-so I think you What I said is right."
"What?" Nelson was interrupted by him so that for a moment he even forgot to find anything to do with him.
"That's what you told me. Because there are too many mediocre guys, the curse is getting simpler and weaker for the convenience of teaching."
"Did I say that?" Nelson scratched his head, and finally remembered what he had said to Tom when he interpreted Slytherin's Transfiguration. He nodded and exclaimed heartily, "You know how Do reading comprehension!"
"By the way, what are you looking for in the early morning?" Tom threw the toothbrush into the tooth bowl, raised his head to rinse his mouth, stroked his hair with one hand, and stared at the big mirror in front of him and said, "I just heard you say. My uncle is your father, so we really are cousins."
"Right right..." Nelson finally remembered the business and waved quickly, "No, I mean, not only did I find your uncle, I also found your father."
"what did you say?"
"I said, I found your father!"
"What did you find?"
"I found your father!"
"What's your dad?"
"I found your father..."
"Who found my dad?"
Tom might not have understood what Nelson was talking about for a while, or he had resisted the news from the bottom of his heart. He even felt a little puzzled, how could Nelson put a sentence like a music box with a magical loop playing a song. Speak upside down.
Nelson was exasperated. He took out a crumpled "Paris Daily" from his pocket, pressed it tightly to the mirror, held up the mirror, and yelled at Tom:
"Your father, Tom Riddle Sr. saw our report in Paris and went to Paris to find you! He published a missing person notice in the "Paris Daily" to find the two of us. You can read it for yourself!"
Tom fell into a long silence, because the newspaper blurred the mirror, Nelson couldn't see his expression and state. In the quiet air, he thought Tom was disconnected, but the faint sound of breathing told the person opposite him. I am reading the newspaper with only a few dozen words carefully.
"Gnar," after a long time, Tom suffocated: "How can you find everything?"
Nelson lifted the newspaper covered on the mirror. Tom’s face was full of melancholy, and his expression was so gloomy that he could almost squeeze out the water. The last time he saw Tom’s appearance was on the streets of Paris, Tom saw the copy of During the outrageous report of "Looking for Pythia-Great Performance Artists Albus Dumbledore and Gellert Grindelwald on the Streets of Paris".
"You know, I'm good at this." Nelson took out the ring with the resurrection stone and shook it at Tom. "But I didn't find it this time. A saint saw you looking for Green. Dewo, gave me the report."
Tom’s expression became even more melancholy. He was like Oedipus who was teased by fate, Arthas who picked up Frostmourne, and Huhai who was coveting the throne-Nelson could not help but ask: "Are you okay? , Tom?"
"I'm okay... but he really is..." Tom sighed. Those mature and sophisticated that did not match his age disappeared without a trace at this moment, his eyes were full of resistance and panic towards the Muggle father who fell from the sky. , He paused for a while, looked around, turned around and asked, "Is he really my... father?"
"How do I know this?" Nelson had to jokingly said in a relatively brisk voice, "It is not ruled out that someone with the same name and surname as you may really have something to do with Grindelwald and Dumbledore."
"Okay..." Tom recalled what he knew about the pitiful situation of his parents, and nodded. In the UK, the same name is very common. This is why Tom resists his own name, but the last name is strange, so the same name On the contrary, there are not many cases of the same surname. Since Mrs. Cole said that her mother named herself by her father’s name, then this "Tom Riddle" who heard the wind is very popular in the past ten years. The father who never showed up.
"Sigh." He lowered his head and sighed.
"Oh..." Nelson didn't know what to say, and then he sighed and asked, "This... Mr. Riddle seems to be in France right now. Let me check the situation for you."
"Oh!" Tom continued to sigh.
"It's not that your girlfriend is pregnant, why are you sighing?" Nelson comforted, "This is also a good thing, at least you are not an orphan, are you? I will go to France tomorrow to explore the way for you, if this person is not good , Let’s not look for him anyway, he can’t find us anyway, at most he can find—"
"No!" Tom softly refused.
"Find Grindelwald and let them go to a duel!" After Nelson said the remaining half sentence, he heard Tom's words and asked in surprise: "What did you say?"
"No, Gnar." Tom shook his head slightly, "Let me face it myself."
"Can you?" Nelson asked with some worry, and this kind of father who hadn't been seen for more than ten years didn't sound like a good person.
"No problem, Gnar." Tom clenched his fists, and the panic in his eyes disappeared. "Am I still alive without him?"
"I just want to find out what happened that year." He whispered.
...
"Seriously, I still think that the woman controlled me in a peculiar way." By the fireplace, old Tom shivered, seeming to recall the **** love story when he was dating Merope. , He picked up a cut cigar from the table with a trembling hand, the servant behind him stepped forward with a wink and lit the fire for him, and then disappeared neatly into the darkness behind the sofa. In the lingering smoke, Old Tom slowly said, "When I fled home later, everyone said I was crazy, or they thought I was just making an excuse for abandoning others, but only I knew that during the nearly a year What a terrible thing I have experienced."
"Mr. Riddle, can you elaborate on it?"
On the sofa opposite him, a young reporter was holding a pamphlet while listening and recording. On the expensive leather cushion, the young reporter was a little frustrated. He was wearing a high-quality ready-to-wear that didn’t fit well, like It was to fit a doll with the body of another doll-at first glance, he was the lucky one who had been poor and rich. He was the reporter who wrote the report before, and a master of reading comprehension.
The crazier the age, the more people will pursue these specious things. With that report, he also gained unimaginable fame and a certain amount of wealth, and also gained the interview with himself as the father of artist Gellert Grindelwald. Opportunities for men.
"It's the first time I mentioned this to anyone other than the family." Old Tom took a sip of the cigar in his hand, and the smoke that he vomited covered his entire head. "I was full of brains back then. That woman—the daughter of the shabby family who lives on the hilltop opposite our house. I really don’t know what’s going on. But the first thing I open my eyes every morning is to miss her, and to dream after falling asleep every night. She, whether she is by my side or not, there is only one thought in my mind, and that is to miss her."
"I understand, Mr. Riddle," the young reporter nodded, it seemed to be something within his knowledge, "to tell you, what I have in my mind now is, when the interview is over, take my fiancée in the hotel building. Have a good meal at the restaurant below."
"I invite you," Old Tom waved his hand impatiently, and the valet behind him appeared from the shadows again. He walked to the reporter and put down a meal coupon, then retreated back into the darkness without making a sound. Tom continued speaking, with a sharp voice, "That's different, it's like you are thinking of your fiancee now, but you can ask me questions here, pick up your **** pen and write on that **** notebook. , You can hear what I said, but I can’t! I was full of that woman at the time. I could hardly do anything except miss her and interact with her!"
"It's really rare for you to have such crazy love." The well-informed reporter also felt that he had gained a lot of knowledge, and he was amazed.
"I said that's not love!" Old Tom's head came out of the lingering smoke, and he exasperatedly squeezed out a low roar from his throat. The manservant behind him appeared again, staring at the reporter indifferently.
Upon seeing this, the reporter waved his hand to apologize.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Riddle, it's not love, go ahead."
"Yes, it's not love," Old Tom leaned back on the sofa, hiding his head in the smoke, and continued, "When I am awake, I just want to sleep with her, and when I sleep, I dream of being in bed with her. ..."
"Sorry, excuse me," the reporter asked, raising his hand, "Mr. Riddle, can I include this paragraph in the report?"
"Of course." Old Tom leaned forward, poked his head out of the smoke again, showing a blackened old yellow tooth and grinning at the reporter, like a crazy jackal. At this time, he was not just a "immersed in Love victims in crazy fantasies", is the famous gentry who doubled the wealth of the Riddle family. "Of course you can write anything, even if it is fabricated, it doesn't matter, and the reader's attitude has nothing to do with your thoughts. "
"I will modify..." The reporter maintained the previous wave of hands, and added one sentence at the end, "in a literary way."
"Very good," Old Tom nodded in satisfaction. In the smoke, only the faint orange cigarette butts were visible. "My mother was still alive at that time. She took me to the doctor—the psychiatrist, you've heard of it. A kind of doctor who specializes in treating people's brains. He said that I was just too guilty of that woman, so he fantasized about her controlling me, so as to comfort my conscience... Hmph, that's a quack, although I The behavior during that time was completely illogical, but I remember that memory clearly!"
"I understand that this is a new science, a new profession, and misjudgments are normal."
"When I get along with her, I sometimes have a moment of sobriety. She does not fully grasp my thoughts. Every time I am sober, I will find a way to escape in the shabby apartment she rents." Old Tom gritted his teeth and said, "She doesn't look very smart, but she's actually smarter than anyone-in order to prevent me from escaping, she would lock the apartment before going out. She also rented an apartment on the fifth floor, just for fear that I would turn over. The window escaped."
"Did she put you under house arrest?"
"Yes, it makes me think of a solution inside the room," Old Tom nodded and said, "The next day, I found that the kitchen was unlocked. Every time before I went out, she would lock the kitchen door specially. It was really lucky that day..."
Old Tom patted his chest with lingering fear, and said, "I saw her use that kind of pot on the stove--the kind of small pot for melting iron in the blacksmith's shop, you know?"
"Crucible," the knowledgeable reporter said.
"Yes, it's a crucible! She uses that kind of crucible to make a strange liquid every day, and the luster of the mother-of-pearl doesn't look normal! She just mixes that thing in the rice and lets me eat it every day. Infatuated with her!"
"So you think that lady made you fall in love with her through long-term medicine." The reporter concluded.
"Yes," Old Tom hasn't smoked a cigar for a long time~www.readwn.com~ The smoke covering his face has faded, and he smiled conceitedly, and said: "After knowing all this, I started to pretend to be sick and pretend I didn’t eat anything for three days! But during those three days, I still pretended to be obsessed with her as before. Maybe it made her feel that she could also be obsessed without the disgusting aphrodisiac, so she stopped feeding me. That thing—it gave me a chance to escape from this devil."
"The devil?" The reporter raised his head and interrupted, "I noticed that you seem to call your predecessor the devil."
"Yes, that woman is the devil, the devil who seduces believers, the devil who plays with the hearts of people, the devil who possesses the means of hell..."
"Then Mr. Grindelwald?" The reporter carefully examined Old Tom's face and said seriously, "I noticed that he and you are indeed very similar in appearance."
"He? He is almost exactly the same as when I was young!" Old Tom's face struggled, and the muscles around his mouth twitched quickly. After a while, he closed his eyes and said weakly, "That may be the child born to me and the devil..."
The reporter got excited. The old jackal finally showed his weakness in front of him. To the reporter, this weakness was like the temptation of sharks by the blood in the sea. He licked his lips and asked:
"So to you, is he a devil or a child?" My classmate who is jumping to Hogwarts is Voldemort Chapter 117 Bloody Love Story Green Reading-Hogwarts of Mine The classmate is Voldemort-Novel Reading Network..., if there is no automatic jump, please click [Jump]
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