My Classmate at Hogwarts is Voldemort

"Hmph," Tom was stunned, the red light in his eyes flashed away, and he said with a smile, "Are you saying that I am also loose sand?"

"That's not necessarily true," Nelson shook his head. "Do you know reinforced concrete? It is a new type of material exhibited at the World Exposition 40 years ago. At first, people thought that sand could not be built."

"So? What is that?"

"By mixing sand, stone, and water with cement, these loose sand aggregates can form an indestructible structure. Buildings made of concrete are even stronger than stone, faster than brickwork, and taller and larger than a tower," Nelson said. "Sand, this loose mud that can't support walls, is now being widely used in construction."

"So you want me to be cement?" The witty Tom quickly grasped the point. "What is cement? It sounds like a very magical material, do you have one?"

"Uh..." Nelson's mouth twitched and said, "The style of painting doesn't need to be so curious. I just want to express that if the scattered sand can be gathered, it will be harder than a rock. I think you can be like this. People."

"You always do this, knowing what I want." Tom grinned and chuckled, then turned around, opened his arms, and asked Nelson, "So what about you? What do you want?"

His voice reverberated in the empty corridor, changing its tone in repeated collisions with the walls, from the original high to low and full of temptation, and that seemed to be the tone he should have.

"I want to know what I want to do, hahaha."

...

"Williams? Sorry, I don't know him very well, I only know that he is Riddle's friend."

In the restaurant.

The professors left after eating, but many students still stayed in the dining room, looking at their empty plates and inquiring about the sudden appearance of senior classmates, and several Nelson’s classmates and even roommates were being asked. At the time, he was surprised to find that apart from a good relationship with Tom, he didn't even have any other deep impressions of this Williams.

"He always stays with a few fixed people, the ones who just sat next to him for dinner, are usually very helpful, but they don't like to care about others."

"Is he a lonely person?" a freshman yelled curiously when he saw this. "It sounds like he has only Riddle a friend."

"No, no, no, he is not," George Carlo slammed his forehead with his palm, and whispered, "I recalled carefully. He went to every class and participated in every activity. He would go to see Quidditch with us, and even walk the secret road to Hogsmeade, but..."

"but what?"

"But he doesn't seem to be there. Thinking about it, he doesn't have much communication with us. He is clearly in the center, but he seems to be living alone." Alan Abbot interjected. This gloomy little brother lived with Nelson. The bedroom usually has no sense of existence. He didn’t expect his speech to be very particular. He pondered for a moment and said, “Williams is still very gregarious. Everyone misses him. Seriously, our group of first-year curses Almost the same copy of the homework was copied. The earliest version was from the guy Alphad. According to him, all of his homework was copied from Williams...Of course, after he dropped out of school, it was in our college. The quality of the work has dropped a few grades in an instant. Why don't you ask Alphad?"

"Alphad? Are you there?" Someone soon started looking for him, but when Slughorn left, Alphad was immediately taken away by his sister. The man smiled and shook his head and said, "Also, if Alphad is here, he will not miss this chance to show off."

At the Ravenclaw dining table next door, Dwight, who has the same name as Nelson’s other roommate, stood on a chair and said happily, "Nelson, of course I know him, he should come to Ravenclaw, I know he is very smart!"

He picked up the soda by the table, swallowed half a bottle, wiped his mouth, and said happily, "He is a kind hearted person. Once that year, he was at the entrance of Ravenclaw's lounge... By the way, you are in the lower grades. You may not know that Ravenclaw used to have no password, only a bronze knocker hung at the door that controls the opening and closing of the door, but if you want to enter the door, you have to answer the strange questions it asks."

"It's amazing," a Ravenclaw freshman exclaimed. "How come it has become a password now? If it's still the same as before, how interesting..."

"Interesting?" Dwight raised his eyebrows and said loudly, "When you forgot to bring homework in class, you are anxious to come back to pick it up. When you go back to the dormitory in a hurry to go to the bathroom, when you go back to the dormitory at night, you find a dozen people blocked at the door Riddle and soon became one of them, you won’t find it interesting anymore! Later it disappeared, thank goodness, a portrait was moved in two days later, maybe the school saw the suffering of our Ravenclaw students Let’s move it away."

Hearing these words, Mettle, who was eating the sundae with a small bite, let out a laugh. Ever since Dumbledore began acting as the principal, lemon sundaes have suddenly become common at the dinner table, Dwight Glancing at her strangely, and continuing, "That night, I happened to ran into Nelson coming to the owl room on the top of the tower to send a letter. I had just finished typing Quidditch that day, and my stomach was very uncomfortable, but the door knocker raised another one. I can't answer difficult questions, so I can only froze there awkwardly."

"So you solved it on the spot?" A chuckle came from the corner of the long table.

"How is it possible?!" Dwight glared at that side and said, "Just as Nelson was passing by, he answered the question casually and helped me out. I think a enthusiastic and smart wizard like him should come. We Ravenclaw!"

"But the Sorting Hat assigned him to Slytherin."

"Maybe it's just because he's too pure," Dwight curled his lips. "Besides that the torn hat is so old. Sometimes it's normal to be unclear, not to mention that it doesn't have a brain."

"It's really old, otherwise it won't assign you to our college."

A cold girl came from behind him. Dwight turned his head stiffly as if he had been cast on a petrification curse. He faced Professor Sykes’s cold eyes. Under her gaze, Dwight’s back was chilled. He climbed down from the stool and stood on the spot with his neck bowed like a quail drenched in the rain.

"I am a little lucky to have left things in the dining room now," Professor Sykes gave him a fierce look, turned his head to the long table of the faculty and staff, and said as he walked, "Otherwise, I can't see such a touching In one scene, although having a good relationship with your classmates is one of the most important things in your school days, it does not mean that you can put the muddy shoes that just passed from the Quidditch Stadium on the dining room chair, Dwight , It seems that your homework is still a bit short, otherwise you won’t have so much energy to jump up and down."

"Sai...Professor Sykes, I...I--" Dwight quibbly quibbly, "I didn't want to stand on the table and say, it's just that something was thrown away when I was eating, I won't stand High point...Yes, you may not find it."

"What are you looking for? Excuse me?" Professor Sykes picked up a uniquely shaped knife and fork from the faculty table, wrapped it in a napkin and put it in his pocket, walked back to Dwight's side, and said coldly, please Call me Professor Sykes, don't call me Professor Sykes, thank you. By the way, I think it is necessary to find something for you to vent your nowhere to put your energy. Tomorrow you will go boating with Ogg on the Black Lake. He just needs someone to help him observe the recent hydrology of the Black Lake. "

"Teach...Professor--" Dwight's face turned pale. What he was most afraid of in his life was something with tentacles with suction cups, but before he could finish his words, Professor Sykes had already stepped on high heels. He left.

The students left in the restaurant looked at each other, looking at each other, and left quietly in a group.

After a while, even Dwight recovered from the "Petrochemical" and left with his tired body. He was going to Hogsmeade to buy some potions to expel squid, octopus and squid on the weekend.

Only Mettle sat in his place, sullen and smiled for a while, not knowing what he was thinking, holding a small silver spoon, and stirring the cup of sundae with his head down.

...

Nelson stirred the lemon sundae in his hand, raised his head, and stared at the empty hanging painting behind Dumbledore with a smile. After entering Dumbledore’s office to say hello, the two had remained motionless. The atmosphere has been around for half an hour.

In order to prevent the sundae from melting and breaking the embarrassment, Nelson even secretly cast a cooling magic on it, and in half an hour, whirlwind of wheat may be invented by him.

He glanced at Dumbledore's unchanging sundae with his crossed hands and deep gaze, and he was sure that Dumbledore had done the same thing as him.

Seeing Dumbledore like this, Nelson continued to stab his neck, stirring the sundae round and round.

"Nelson," Dumbledore finally couldn't hold his breath. He rubbed his stiff neck. In the sit-in competition, young people undoubtedly had the advantage. He picked up the sundae on the table and squeezed it. He winked his eyes and asked, "Have you gone?

"Professor, I'm not angry." Nelson didn't expect Dumbledore to make such a straight punch. He raised his eyebrows exaggeratedly and waved his hand. "This kind of sundae just needs to be mixed and mixed. Eat, this is the way I learned how to eat in the United States. I haven't moved my mouth yet. Would you like to try it?"

"Okay!" Dumbledore showed an expression of expectation, opened his hand, and the sundae beside him staggered to Nelson's side, and Nelson also threw out his sundae, in exactly the same direction. The opposite trajectory flew towards Dumbledore.

Dumbledore took the sundae, took a bite with a spoon, put it in his mouth, and savored it. After a while, he exclaimed with delight, "Yes, it tastes better, Nelson, you're out here this time. Sure enough, I learned a lot."

"Yes, Professor."

Dumbledore ate a cup of sundae three times in half, scratching the wall with a spoon with satisfaction, and asked, "What do you think of Ifamoni? How do you compare with us?"

"It's very good. Ifamon is on a high mountain, the air and environment are better than ours, but the castle is not as good as ours."

Seeing that Nelson was just describing his appearance blindly, without making any comments on the teaching, Dumbledore smiled and shook his head, and said, "Give me the form. After I sign it, I will send it to the Ministry of Magic. You don't need to run. Come and go."

"Okay," Nelson put the form in his hand on the table and pushed it in front of Dumbledore. "Thank you, professor."

"This is what I should do."

Dumbledore picked up Nelson's student registration form, flipped through it, nodded, and quickly read it, then put the pile of parchment in the drawer, raised his head, and looked directly into Nelson's eyes.

Nelson thought he was about to get to the point, so he sat down and raised his spirits. Unexpectedly, Dumbledore opened his mouth and just asked, "I heard you cast a complete patron saint with a dementor?"

"Yes, Professor." Nelson waved his wand, and a cloud of silver mist gushed out from the tip of the wand, and quickly circled the room, blowing some light ornaments like a violent wind. Then, It returned to Nelson's hands and disappeared~www.readwn.com~Only a slender feather fell from the sky, falling in front of Dumbledore.

Dumbledore squinted his eyes and looked carefully at the slender feather, which was indistinguishable from normal feathers except for its color. Its shaft is hard and sharp, showing a perfect arc, while the pinna and branches on it are hard and sharp. As if experiencing a great battle, it presents a natural defect. The remaining intact part is more complete than any feather that Dumbledore has ever seen. He leaned close to his face and stretched out his wand to poke the silver feather. , But at the moment it was about to be touched, it shattered into silver light spots, which were blown away by the breeze.

Dumbledore raised his head, leaned back in the chair, and let out a sigh of relief, with a relieved expression on his face.

"What's the matter with you? Professor." Nelson raised his head and asked, "You seem a little uncomfortable."

"No, Nelson," Dumbledore said with a straight back, staring straight into Nelson's eyes, and said seriously, "I'm glad you haven't become the person I fear under such difficult conditions-here. When I was planting, I didn’t hide it from you anymore. I was really afraid that you would take a wrong path to become a dark wizard."

"How do you know?" Nelson asked rhetorically.

"Black wizards who rely on black magic will be eroded by black magic, and their numb and crazy souls cannot support them in casting a patron saint spell, especially such a complete patron saint." Dumbledore relaxed, his speech no longer hid. .

"Professor, you are a stereotyped prejudice." Nelson also followed Dumbledore with a smile, but he shook his head and retorted, "Actually, I know a wizard who only uses magic to heal others. , He is also a black wizard leader wanted by the Ministry of Magic in more than twenty countries."