My Classmate at Hogwarts is Voldemort

London.

Years of wars have brought an indelible haze to this magnificent city. Under continuous bombing and harassment by the German army, this world’s most prosperous city has also become the most severely damaged city in the Second World War. One of three cities.

"It feels like there is no difference."

Nelson shook his head and walked west through the alley in front of King's Cross Station.

I thought that the war would make the lords in the council more aware of the value of life, but Nelson still saw many yellow-faced and thin children around. They gathered in groups around a few piles of waste products. Distinct small groups.

As he passed by, the dirty boys who couldn't see their age and gender stared at his pockets, their eyes flashed with greed.

"Sir, all right!"

Seeing Nelson approaching, a tramp nestled in the children’s pile kicked the calf of the child next to him. The yellow-faced and thin child who was less than 1.2 meters tall leaped forward and crouched at Nelson’s feet, crying. I shed tears from my nose, and kept crawling forward.

Hearing this familiar sentence, Nelson looked in a daze, vaguely, returning to the afternoon when he left King's Cross station three years ago.

"Sorry, I have no change."

His answer was exactly the same as before. The difference was that instead of covering his hat, he walked away quickly. Instead, he approached the crowd, standing in front of the sturdy tramp, looking down at him condescendingly.

"Boy, what's the matter with you?" The tramp saw him approaching, raised his head, and put the wine bottle in his hand to the ground. He sat on a bed that couldn't see the original color, supporting the wall thinking To stand up.

"I think you shouldn't be short of food. Why don't you give them food?"

Nelson scanned the tramp in front of him, a look of disgust in his eyes.

"Me?" The homeless man was drunk, supported the wall hard but couldn't stand up, so he collapsed back on the bed, stretched out his finger to himself, exposed a foul-smelling yellow tooth, and grinned at Nelson, "You don't want to Nosy, besides, how can I have any money to buy food for these puppies?"

"But I don't think you are eating badly," Nelson said, shook his head, staring at the tramp's belly. "Otherwise, you can't feed you so fat by just lying on a group of street children and sucking blood."

As the homeless man opened his mouth, Nelson smelled a fishy smell of alcohol. He raised his hand to fan in front of his nose, tilted his head and asked, "I have been here three years ago. Among these young men There are even some familiar faces. I remember that their head was still a big child at that time. Did you grow up so fast?"

"You mean that stinky and tough kid?" The tramp smiled, "Do you know him? But you were late. He died last year."

"died?"

"Yes, I got a sudden illness." The homeless man seemed to have not chatted with others for a long time. His conversation became stronger and he began to show off the uncommon words he didn't know where he heard from, "I don't know if it's cholera or Malaria was later collected by people from the city hall... Did you brothers come to inspect once every three years? You know, they are so hungry, or it's because you came less."

"Let me see." Nelson knelt down suddenly and reached out his hand to grab the dirty hair of the tramp. The tramp tried to dodge, but found that his body was stiff and unable to move. Nelson grabbed his hair and stared. Looking into the homeless eyes, he asked, "Tell me, what happened in London in recent years?"

In the next second, he released his hand, and the tramp opened his eyes wide and looked at him in horror. He rubbed his **** back with both hands, and found that it was touching the wall. He closed his eyes in despair, shaking in a low voice. Mumbled, "You don't want to hit their minds."

"Don't be afraid, I didn't do anything."

Nelson smiled and shook his head, turned to the child who had just fallen under his feet, took out a dozen bread from his pocket like a magic, and put it on the ground with the wrapping paper, then turned to the end of the alley, and passed it behind him. There was a neat sound of swallowing and saliva. The hungry street children did not rush to fight. In Nelson's aftermath, the boy who got the bread first looked carefully in the direction of the street man and saw that there was nothing to him. In response, he quickly broke the bread into several pieces and distributed them to the surrounding children, even leaving a piece beside the homeless.

Nelson raised his eyebrows, said nothing, turned and left.

It seems that the war did not make capitalists aware of the preciousness of life, on the contrary, it caused them a sense of anxiety, thus squeezing the poor and the white people with greater intensity.

Nelson walked for a long time through the cleaned up ruins and surviving buildings, and finally came to West City.

At this time, the street where French immigrants gathered more people moved, and even a few French faces appeared in the surrounding streets. Based on his memory, Nelson walked in the direction of his aunt and uncle’s house. I feel heavy walking, even hard to breathe.

The surrounding refugees looked vigilantly at the faces of the people in this block, only some old neighborhoods, looking at Nelson's face, showed a surprised expression, and when they wanted to rush over to say hello, they stopped worryingly.

Nelson enjoyed the feeling of being undisturbed. He walked to the courtyard and looked at the thorns and dilapidated branches in the courtyard, preparing to clear a path with his hands.

"Really a good neighbour in London," he cleared a path that was enough for him to pass. He looked at the small building intact in front of him, and even the windows were not broken. Nelson nodded in satisfaction, "No one is stealing things."

Only then did he see a wooden board standing at the door with a striking line written on it, "Ghost House! Enter carefully!"

Nelson looked at the familiar handwriting on the wooden sign and laughed. The laughter pierced this melancholy street. He pulled out the wooden sign, took out the key and walked into the courtyard, "Tom, you really have you."

He turned the wooden sign over and inserted it back. It was the previous house number on the back: "House of Nicklaus."

As soon as he opened the door, Nelson received the surprise left by Tom. A slender figure about three meters tall, dressed in a ragged black robe, and bound by an iron chain was holding a sickle and slashing down at him. A hoarse voice mingled with snake lao accent came into the ear:

"Why disturb peace?"

"It's me," Nelson stretched out his hand and pressed the tip of the sickle. It split his arm and swung it all the way down. Everything turned out to be an illusion. "Tom, I'm back."

I don’t know which word in this sentence triggered the mechanism. The slender figure shattered in an instant, and all the lights in the room turned on in an instant. Nelson looked at the living room. The window was clear and tidy, and there were a few plates on display. At the table, there was a hot mist.

"Why do these and nothing, it's so hard." Nelson curled his lips in disgust, sat at the table and took out the knife and fork. Seeing the tomatoes on this table, he had already determined the "suspect".

...

"Jonas, I'm going to see it," in the cemetery, Nelson murmured softly, holding on to Jonas's white tombstone, "I went to see the real Europe, the real world, and the real world you want me to see. City, real people..."

Vaguely, he heard Jonas's voice.

"The real Europe is at war, and the rest of the world is even worse than fighting... The cities are full of homeless tramps, refugees who have lost their homes, and homeless children who cannot afford to eat. The people destroyed by the bullets are no different from their previous lives. I even wonder what I saw."

He held the tombstone and slowly sat on the head of Mr. Williams next to Jonas, looking at the unseen nicks on the tombstone of Jonas, which seemed to be carved by his friends. , The handwriting of each sentence was different, and they all told a hilarious joke. Nelson looked at the joke and felt much better, and continued to report to his uncle what he had seen and heard.

"Did you know? The Germans established a concentration camp in Poland. After more prisoners were being held, they even started experimenting with those people, some brutal experiments... At the beginning, I saw the Polish people suffering. There is even a hint of comfort. I think they just took the blame and killed the only person in the world who was willing to help them. It should be taken by the Germans for experiments, right?"

He raised his head and looked at the dove hall on the top of the church not far away. At this point, no pigeons came out to wander around, only the faint cooing sound and the dropping of bird droppings.

Nelson looked directly at the not dazzling sun and continued.

"But after a while, when I was numb to those experiments, I realized that I was wrong-which drunkard’s mistake should not be paid for by other innocent people. I can even take his soul from hell. Fished out to torture, but if I just sit on the sidelines and feel happy about the deaths of those Poles, what is the difference between me and him? This must not be what you want to see." Nelson sighed, looked back and rubbed his eyes. I rubbed the eyes that had been staring at the strong light for too long.

"But by then it was too late. The **** and undeserved are all dead, and there are even prisoners and political prisoners from other countries that have been sent continuously by freighters. I can only do my best to try to get some people. Come out," Nelson shook his head with a wry smile, "In the eyes of many wizards, I am more like a Muggle than a wizard, but when I rescue people, I rely on my master wizard status... During that time, I stayed all day long. I had nothing to do in Krakow, so I patrolled everywhere to find the fault of the soldiers and officers. If I found the reason, I would destroy the experimental instruments in front of them, and even release the prisoners."

Nelson shook his fingers and seemed to be counting the number of people, maybe because the number was a bit big, he finally gave up.

"In the eyes of outsiders, I am a moody neuropathy, but because of my special status, no one dares to provoke me, hahaha." He covered his chest and laughed, "It is said that I have been fighting, but I really don't feel anything. , I don’t know if someone else protects me too well or I instinctively stay away from these things... All I see are peaceful American cities, Krakow with carts and carts of prisoners of war, and the news in the newspapers. The professionalism of those journalists is far worse than that of yours. They really dare to write anything. Those who are backed by the reports, I think that De Gaulle is celebrating his triumph in Berlin!"

He was amused by his own joke, patted the tombstone hard, and made a crisp sound, "I should engrave this joke on your tombstone... No, maybe I can think of a better one in the future. "

Gnar smiled, suddenly sniffed a few times, coughed, and said, "When I die, I will come down and tell you myself."

After that, he dropped a few small silver **** on the surrounding ground, turned around, and left the cemetery without looking back.

Near the door, he felt a thick, cold rope wrapped around his ankle, lowered his head, and found that it was a thick snake spitting a letter under his feet.

"Nagini?" Nelson asked cautiously.

The giant snake didn't speak, but raised his head, opened his blood basin and rushed towards Nelson's face door. Just when he closed his eyes and was ready to die and could already feel the venom odor, Nagini stopped and she closed. With the mouth, Shinko licked softly on Nelson's face and rolled away a tear, hiding his sadness.

Nelson put his arms around Nagini's neck and asked, "Have you been here for three years?"

Nagini nodded ~www.readwn.com~ It didn't take so long, I just left some protection there, you don't need to keep staring at it. Nelson grabbed the scales on the back of Nagini's head and found that he was pulling people's hair. He scratched his head embarrassedly, and asked, "I'm going to find Tom, do you want to be together?" "

Nagini nodded vigorously.

"But he's at Hogwarts. It's not easy to get in if you are so old...can you make it smaller?" Nelson asked, "I can put you in my pocket and take you out."

Nagini shook his head dejectedly.

"Well...I can make you smaller, but your forbearance. I tried it with people before. Although the effect is good, the deformed person seems to be very painful." Nelson took out of his pocket. A delicately shaped ball said, "Then you can get in, do you think it's okay?"

Nagini raised her head and nodded slightly. Nelson could even see the nervousness on her face.

"It's not now, don't be nervous, I can cast you a magic spell now, and then go to take the train... When I get to Hogsmeade, I will make you smaller." Nelson asked, throwing the ball in his hand. "You must really want to see Tom, after all, he may be the only person in the world who can talk to you." My classmate who was jumping to Hogwarts was remembered by Voldemort in Chapter 161 Nagini Green Reading-My classmate at Hogwarts is Voldemort

Sometimes there is no automatic jump because the chapter corresponding to the novel site has not been generated yet, or the site is slow, not because the adjustment function is invalid. Please be patient, ^_^.