My Classmate at Hogwarts is Voldemort

Latest website: The drunkard woke up in only a second, and the smiling blond wizard on the opposite side, carrying a magic wand, walked towards him like a vegetable that he bought at the vegetable market at night.

That guy...he obviously didn't chant a spell! There has never been even a wrist movement! But I really felt that the surrounding air suddenly became as hard as steel, as if someone forced him to put on a cold armor, and this armor was shrinking and shrinking... His heart was also shrinking. He stopped beating because he lost the swelling space, he just felt that his heart was pinched, squeezed, and played with one hand.

His heart was also uncomfortable. The cold and dark whispers sounded in his ears. The whispers were not any language, but the baby's babble, the first cry after tearing off the umbilical cord to breathe air-he remembered My brother, my brother who was buried in a mass grave on the high ground shortly after he was born, he bet with his childhood friend that day, how dare he think that he could not bear to kill a waste-like cannon? ?

"I've shown it to you!" The drunkard shouted frantically in his heart, "Look, dumb guns are domestic animals like Muggles! But what about you? Where are you now?"

He struggled and twisted his neck, looking left and right, as if looking for a hairy figure, oh, he remembered, that guy entered Azkaban in his first adult year, precisely because he violated the animal protection. Ridiculous law.

The drunk man just wanted to say something, but he felt that his throat was stuck with something, and the air was being squeezed out of his body a little bit. He was a little suffocated, but this feeling and tasting came out of Knockdown Alley. The "medicine" is the same. After the pain, there is a great indulgence, and he began to look forward to it.

In the process of anticipation, he thought of his mother again, the weak woman who was born in a small family who never talked to him just because she buried a piece of **** alive, and the weak woman who chose to stop herself. , It's disgusting!

The drunk opened his blurred eyes, his gaze returned from the illusion to reality, with hazy gold rippling in front of him, and two icy sapphires... Maybe it was two "medicine" in a quiche, listen. It is really convenient to say that some people like this. They can both eat and take medicine.

"Uh...hungry! Hungry!"

As the golden touch approached, the last drop of alcohol in the drunkard's body was drained out by his unwilling body, and a moist feeling came from under him. This shameful incontinence became a life-saving straw for awakening his will.

"vomit!"

The wizard retched, but his neck was stuck with something and it was difficult to continue. His whole body was sweaty, mixed with the pool of water under him, and exuded a fishy stench mixed with inferior whiskey.

Trying to open his eyes, the double shadows dangling in front of him finally overlapped together. It was the golden-haired wizard!

Nelson frowned, bent over slightly, poked the drunk’s throat with his wand, and lifted his upper body with his chin. The drunk’s mouth and esophagus almost formed a line, and his head fell back to the limit. This may be the reason why he is not breathing well.

"who are you?"

The drunk's eyes widened and looked directly into Nelson's eyes. This was not because of courage, but because his body was out of control, and wisps of silver mist floated from his eyes and fell into Nelson's eyes.

"Did you have a drug addiction?" Nelson ignored his question and sneered. "It turns out that the alcoholism is because you can't afford drugs. It's really funny."

He took off the strength of his wrist, and the drunk fell to the ground softly.

McGonagall was about to run over when she saw this, but Nelson turned her head in the first second of her step, raised his hand to block, "Don't come over!"

"Why...what's the matter?" McGonagall looked worried. "You won't... won't take him--"

"No, it smells too bad here."

Nelson's face was even more stinky than the surrounding smells. He seldom used the dementia, but he finally used it once and caught up with such a disgusting thing.

"Are you okay?" McGonagall cared. "Do you need my help?"

"I'm just a bit nauseous. Fortunately, I didn't eat anything this morning." Nelson shook his head. "You were targeted for no reason. These guys are just a bunch of addicts with nothing. Unlike the pure blood wizards in London, they are the only ones who have nothing. The value is that ridiculous pedigree, so I pay special attention to this."

"Ah--" McGonagall let out a low exclamation, and she noticed that the drunk companions on the street saw him so embarrassed that they didn't come forward, and they almost had no strength on them.

She was a little shocked and couldn't digest the information Nelson told her for a while. As a girl who just came out of the ivory tower and returned to the ivory tower, although she is older, her current social experience is far less than that of Nelson who has become accustomed to it.

"Don't cause trouble to yourself." She urged in a low voice, and even started thinking about how to help Nelson cover up if something really happened.

"Don't worry, I'm professional." Nelson turned his head and said, "Actually, I think he should have no guts to trouble you anymore."

He lowered his head, looked at the limp drunk, and asked softly, "Am I right?"

The drunk nodded frantically, flicking his horsehair-like hair, flicking the stained mud spots everywhere, he remembered what he felt just now-that was the first time he hurt Muggles fifteen years ago. When I was arrested by the Auror, I saw the feeling of a dementor in the basement of the Law Enforcement Department: all the happiness has been sucked away, the cold squeeze feeling, only sadness and despair are left in my mind, even if there is now. "Medicine", I don't feel any warmth.

"Dementor..." He squeezed the word out of his throat, his body convulsing all the time, exactly the same as most people behave when they see a dementor.

"Really? It looks good," Nelson raised his eyebrows and the corners of his mouth curled up. "But you were wrong. I think you should understand that no one is scared of Dementors."

Gravity caused Nelson's picked hair to fall down, his blond hair covered his forehead, and his image coincided with that of the drunkard who had just been talking with his companion.

"You are... you are!" The drunk man sat on the ground, squirming wildly backwards on the dirt road with both hands. The dirty robe was covered with dust, because it was because of the yellowish brown cloth that had not been cleaned for too long. He was stained khaki, his eyes were wide, staring at Nelson's face, and muttering words like "Hogwarts" and "Grindelwald" inconsistently in his mouth.

"Oh? Did you see it? Then our conversation is much simpler... Yes, I am." Nelson smiled, "Come on, go on."

"I...I..." The cold air still haunts the drunkard, even though his drunken spirit has been completely scared off, his squishy brain can't stop proper language at all.

He simply closed his eyes, tilted his neck, and began to play dead.

Nelson almost laughed angrily, but the short reading of memory made him interested in certain things. He needs to understand and understand. This time he decided not to contemplate. After all, this guy’s mind is really picky. It’s so disgusting, it’s even beyond the scope of a normal person. This is why Nelson doesn’t like the magic of dementia—not only he doesn’t like being demented, but he also doesn’t like to be contemplated by others, because you will always I don't know how perverted a person's thinking can be.

Nelson waved his magic wand, and a large hand made of mud stretched out from the ground beside the drunkard. He pinched his face and turned it towards Nelson. Nelson leaned down, and the white mist filled his back with the white mist on the prairie. The mist was entangled, and a few more small hands grew from the fingertips of the big mud hands, and opened the eyes of the drunk who were firmly closed because of fear.

"you you……"

After realizing that the guy in front of him was a dementor in human skin, the drunk was too scared to say a complete word, but Nelson seemed dissatisfied. He also knew that to be afraid is to be afraid of not getting in place. If you don't get it in place, you won't be able to tell the truth.

With a cold smile on his face, the white mist behind him suddenly expanded and turned into a huge mist vortex, and the drunk who was forcibly opened his eyelids could only be forced to look at it, praying that he would not get inside. Make a real dementor.

His prayer was fulfilled, but what appeared to be more frightening to him.

The whirlpool behind Nelson turned red, **** red, hanging behind him like the setting sun.

At the first sight of red, the drunk shuddered unconsciously because of instinct. The large patches of color could not see anything, but the instinct of creatures made him clearly know that it was an eye and a depression. With angry eyes, he only felt that there were countless souls hidden in these eyes, as if he was in a crowd of people suddenly became the focus of everyone at a certain moment, his clothes, flesh, bones and even souls were all Stripped and shredded. A few days ago, he might not be able to imagine the owner of this sun-like eye, but on the day Alexander appeared in front of everyone, he happened to be in Knockoff Alley, shaking like a hyena. Holding his nose, greedily looking for the "medicine" that made him addicted.

He knew who Nelson was and what he was staring at him, so that he suddenly seemed to be enlightened.

The red light shone on the drunk man, and seeing his eyes lose focus, Nelson chuckled with satisfaction:

"I ask, you answer!"

The drunk nodded.

"What are you eating every day?"

"Medicine... Your lord, God’s medicine!" The drunkard’s face was full of madness. Although he exposed his belly under Nelson's feet like a stray dog, the moment he thought of the "medicine", he was still floating on the cloud. , "Let me be...the medicine of the gods!"

"Addict...you really make me sick." Nelson was so disgusted that he said Tom's mantra, he secretly remembered the urgent action goal of "finding a market for a pair of shoes" in his heart, "Where is it?" bought?"

"Turnover Alley."

"Are you kidding me?"

"No...no, it's Borgin Bock. I bought it there before," the drunkard said hurriedly. "It's only available there."

"Bokin Bok has been arrested for a long time," Nelson said. "His den was destroyed."

"My lord...Yes, there are a lot of Bogin Bock," the drunk man's speech was slurred, his mouth was drooling, "they have been there all the time."

"Still now?"

"Still, at least a few days ago, still the location of their original shop, the Ministry of Magic won't really treat him like that."

"I see, so why is there no ‘medicine’ now?"

"Because his supply is cut off... so he tells every customer that he can't produce it now unless he provides the raw materials."

"What are the ingredients?" Nelson frowned.

"People..." The drunkard's voice became quieter, "No, it's not a person, it's a Muggle, just Muggle."

"When did he start looking for you guys?" Nelson asked through gritted teeth.

"Before he had a stable supply of goods... Just a few months ago, probably in October, when he started to reactivate," the drunk man's eyes stated the horrible facts blankly, "He has some stock, but now he must I have to bring my own materials."

Nelson only felt a chill in his back. The moment he saw the "medicine" in the memory of the drunkard, he knew that it was the devil that hated civilization, but even he would not have thought that the raw material of these "medicine" was actually Like myself, a living person who can run and jump, has his own name, has his own family, and has his own dreams and responsibilities.

He raised his arms blankly and clenched his wand.

"Nelson!" McGonagall's voice awakened him. Nelson turned his head and saw McGonagall stepping forward, shaking his head at himself, "He is not worth it, there are too many people like this!"

"Did you hear?" Nelson shook his head, stroked the falling wet method back, and lowered his arm, "Minerva, think about your father, your first love, they are only used by these people as raw materials."

"I will protect them, and you will protect them, right?" McGonagall said softly, "but they are not worthy of your anger, are they? There are too many ways to punish them, but these things shouldn't be allowed. You do what ~www.readwn.com~Dumbledore did for you, have you forgotten?"

"Yeah, lynching is no different from them. I won't..." Nelson shook his head, stopped talking, put away his wand, "but I still need to leave them a lesson."

"Nelson—"

"Okay, let's go, go to our destination." Nelson patted McGonagall on the shoulder. "I'm a little tired and don't know the way. Can you take me?"

McGonagall didn't ask Nelson what the "lesson" was, but just let the white cat jump on his shoulder.

She walked on the only way to go to school and vacation. It was no different from many years ago. The sun left a long shadow for her on the endless grassland.

Behind them, the village entrance trail, which was full of curses before, quieted down.

"Actually ten years ago, this place was still a rich village."

7017k