My Classmate at Hogwarts is Voldemort

The latest website: "Minerva, don't you take your friends to sit at home first?"

The woman rubbed McGonagall’s hair and said reproachfully, then she looked at Nelson, pursed her lips and smiled, "My name is Isabel, and it’s Minerva’s mother."

Isabel has a pair of sharp and bright eyes like McGonagall. Her eyes are sharp. The scrutinized Nelson felt that she was back in the first grade. For the first time she saw McGonagall sitting on the stump by the Black Lake. She was even shorter than her daughter, but she was able to hold McGonagall firmly in her arms, with her slightly curly brown hair draped behind her back. Despite her age, her waist was still very straight, and her outfit was old-fashioned. After she matched the clothes that had been washed clean, they also gave off a sense of fashion.

It seems that she is much younger than her actual age, although her skin has been tarnished by the cold wind of the Scottish Highlands, even though wrinkles have appeared on her face, even though the silver filaments hidden in her long hair can no longer hide the sun. Reflective, but she still maintains a young, Ravenclaw heart.

This is a distressed, but slow-paced woman who doesn't give up her exquisiteness.

"Mrs. McGonagall, it's an honor to meet you. My name is Nelson Williams. I am Minerva's younger brother." Nelson stepped forward and nodded slightly to the woman. "Minerva often mentioned you to me. You really are a lady as beautiful as her."

McGonagall turned his head and glanced at Nelson with a strange expression.

"Oh! So you are Nelson," Isabel raised her eyebrows, with a look of surprise on her face, let go of McGonagall, and welcomed Nelson to the village behind her. "When she mentioned to me the life of studying at Hogwarts, I always mention you."

"Really?" Nelson followed Isabel and walked into this quiet village. Not far away, the stained glass of the church reflected the sunlight leaking from the clouds, dyeing the whole village into a fairytale dreamlike color. "Mrs. McGonagall, Minerva has often scolded me."

"Hehe, where would it happen," Isabel covered with a smile. "She likes to praise you. According to him, you are the most talented student of transfiguration at Hogwarts after Dumbledore. Of course, see After your Animagus, I think her evaluation is still a bit conservative."

"You're too praised," Nelson scratched his head with a blush, looking like a first-year pupil praised by the teacher. McGonagall stared at the backs of the two people in shock with the expression of McGonagall behind them. Nelson was associated with the guy who called the professor by his name every day at school and threatened others like a dark wizard not long ago. She followed in a daze, hearing Nelson's extremely natural compliment, "Actually, I I was always mischievous at school. Thanks to her teaching, I was able to safely not be expelled. Speaking of which, the last time I was punished to clean the honor showroom, I saw a trophy with your name engraved on it!"

"Really?" Isabel asked in surprise. She looked several years younger when she asked, "Is it a Quidditch cup?"

"Yes!" Nelson clapped his hands and said, "You used to be the captain of Ravenclaw's Quidditch team, didn't you? In fact, when I first went to Hogwarts, I heard of Minerva's Quidditch played very well, but unfortunately there was no chance to see her style, but now I finally understand where her Quidditch talent came from. It turned out to be your inheritance."

"Hahaha." Isabel covered her mouth and laughed again. This witch, who was squeezed to the point of weight loss by the life of hiding in Tibet and the heavy burden, glowed with youthful vitality at this moment. A breeze was blowing her long hair, and she was at this moment. It looked like she was galloping in the sky on a flying broomstick. She waved her hand and said modestly, "Minerva’s Quidditch is much better than me. There was even a team that wanted her to try out. ."

"It's a pity that I was knocked off the broomstick by your Slytherin people," McGonagall squeezed between the two of them, and gave Nelson an unobtrusive look, seeming to be rising for him to take away his mother's attention. He said, "Otherwise you will have a chance to see the style."

"Minerva!" Isabel rubbed McGonagall's hair reproachfully, looked at Nelson and said, "So you are from Slytherin? I always thought you were a Ravenclaw student."

"I'm Slytherin, but I always think every academy is the same, except that the Slytherin lounge is a bit too humid," Nelson shrugged. "Look, Minerva is a grandfather. But she is smarter than most Ravenclaw I have seen."

"What a good boy."

Isabel smiled and nodded at Nelson. McGonagall was also a little comfortable being photographed by the unmarked horse, and squinted like a cat. Suddenly, she noticed a little loophole in Nelson's words, "Wait. , You said most—"

"We are here." Isabel interrupted McGonagall's questioning, and the three of them stood in front of a cozy stone cabin, "We are here."

There was smoke from the chimney on the roof, and the two caught up with their meals.

Nelson looked at this small but full of life atmosphere. There were a few onions planted in the gaps in the garden. Inside was the freshly turned dirt. On the windowsill, there were a row of flower pots in descending order. The few broom heathers still in full bloom looked like they were picked up from the grass field below the mountain, but they were neatly inserted, and they were just watered. They were painted with purple to add a touch of bright color to the single-color house.

In the corner of the garden, there is a crooked doghouse, like a building block built by children. It is very clean. It seems that its residents are no longer there, but there is no dust on the doghouse. It should be cleaned frequently.

A string of blue wind chimes hung in front of the wooden door of the hut. At the bottom, there were two rusty emblems, the red Gryffindor and the blue Ravenclaw, which should be treasured by the mother and daughter. school days.

"It's been a long time since I went to the wizard's place," Isabel said to Nelson apologetically. "Minerva doesn't say a friend is coming. We can only entertain you with some ordinary things."

"It's okay," Nelson said happily, touching a cane climbing up the garden gate. "You don't know. When I was in London, I used to cook by myself, and my taste was almost destroyed by myself."

Seeing Nelson's exaggerated expression, Isabel covered her mouth and laughed again, the crow's feet in the corner of her eyes became more and more obvious, "If McGonagall had a funny friend like you, he wouldn't have looked like a small adult like now. "

"I'm already an adult!" McGonagall said with a frown, "I am a teacher and a mother, and Nelson is still a student."

"In Mom's eyes, you will always be a child, dear," Isabel pinched McGonagall's face affectionately, and opened the garden door. "Nelson should be graduating soon, maybe you can still be Colleagues."

Nelson glanced at them with some envy.

"Child, do you want to be pinched too?" Isabel smiled and stretched out her hand.

"No way, thank you." Nelson waved his hand again and again, and the fast jumping back made Isabel a stunned.

"I'm already a professor of transformation, what am I doing when he comes!"

"Actually, my intention to apply for a job is to teach the history of magic." (Isabel: Merlin's boots turned out to be the history of magic!)

"Do you think Professor Bins will retire?"

"..."

Looking at the daughter whose expression Nelson had made her face amused, Isabel smiled with relief. She was really worried that McGonagall would be ill if she held it back like that.

"Jingle Bell……"

The wind chimes rang, and some stale door hinges creaked, and a thin man in plain clothes appeared behind the opened door.

Just seeing him at the first glance, Nelson developed a fascination with this strange man. His body revealed a sense of responsibility struggling under pressure. He had a taste exactly like that of Jonas, belonging to The taste of a father.

"Hello."

The man stretched out his hand and didn't say much. The silver cross necklace hanging from his neck shook as he walked out, "Robert McGonagall."

"Mr. McGonagall." Nelson took Robert's outstretched hand. "Nelson Williams."

"Welcome to Humble House." Robert glanced at McGonagall, nodded, then looked at his wife with a smile, then turned sideways and said, "Please come in."

Nelson followed him into the house, McGonagall and Isabel followed close behind. Robert arranged him and McGonagall by the fireplace in the living room, filled them with tea, and returned to the kitchen with his wife.

"You obviously don't know how to be Quidditch at all, you can't even hold a flying broomstick, Nelson, don't you learn Slytherin's hypocrisy," McGonagall curled his lips and looked at the closed kitchen door. "You see my mom is so happy."

"You really wronged me," Nelson raised his hand and cried out. "There is no law that you can't be a fan without Quidditch. If you don't believe me, you can ask Newt. I often discuss Quidditch with him. topic of."

He looked around the furnishings in the room and could see that Robert was a devout priest, but the furnishings of these believers hung with the witch’s broomstick, creating an inexplicable sense of absurdity. There was a stack of writing desks by the window. Half of "Exodus" was copied by hand. In the cauldron next to it, the purple potion was bubbling.

"What's the matter?" McGonagall stretched out his hand and shook it in front of Nelson. "Are you satisfied that you made me assassinate me? Now they must be laughing at me in the kitchen—"Minerva couldn't control her students. Hahaha' or something."

"Why? They just think you are gentle with the students, Professor McGonagall," Nelson asked, noticing the four rooms upstairs, "Do you have any brothers or sisters?"

"Yes," McGonagall nodded, seemingly reluctant to say more, "they are not in a high grade, and they can hardly meet you."

"Oh." Nelson understood that she didn't want her siblings to receive special treatment in school, so she didn't ask any more, "It's just that I think there is something wrong with your previous description."

"What?" McGonagall tilted his head.

"Sorry, this is a bit outdated, so I need to perform magic in your house, can I?"

Seeing McGonagall nodded, Nelson tucked his hand back into his sleeve and lifted it slightly. The noise in the kitchen suddenly disappeared.

"Go ahead," McGonagall said.

"That's it, I pieced together a very wrong conclusion from what you said before about your parents-your father has been tortured by your mother's identity as a witch, so that the whole family is torn apart," Nelson stretched out With a finger, a mayfly with eight slender metal legs flew out from behind him, holding down a sight glass that was just about to start spinning and roaring in the ashes of the fireplace, and soon he picked it up in surprise. When he raised his eyebrows, more and more mayfly flew out from behind, controlling more than ten warning magics. After doing all this, Nelson opened his hand and said, "Your mother's vigilance is really high... we Closer to home, do you think if your parents’ relationship is really bad, will they give birth to your younger siblings?"

"But I have seen Dad look when he is sad," McGonagall shook his head, "I don't mean that they have a bad relationship, but their love does bring them pain."

"But he is enduring, he is trying to end, Minerva, he is suffering because he loves your mother, at least in my opinion, for them, love is greater than those costs, and "A lot more," Nelson said, "you are in it, and you may be blinded by your own eyes. Think about it, is it because you are pessimistic about feelings that make your perception of parental love darken?"

"I..." McGonagall lowered her head, curled up on the sofa and hugged her knees with her hands. She was smart enough to understand the problem Nelson pointed out in just a second. She raised her head and looked at both In the brother's room, her thoughts drifted far away, so much so that she didn't notice when Nelson removed the magic. After a while, she finally raised her head, "Do you think I—"

"What's the matter? Honey?" Isabel raised her hand and shook it in front of her, which made McGonagall swallow the second half of the sentence in her stomach. "Why snub Nelson?"

"Minerva is thinking about the transfiguration problem I just raised!" Nelson stood up ~www.readwn.com~ and helped Isabel fill the teacup on the table with water, and the two began to show the art of socializing again.

"Mom." McGonagall raised his head suddenly and asked, "How is Doug?"

"What? Who? Doug?" Isabel raised her head in astonishment. McGonagall's question made her a little unresponsive, but she quickly said, "Oh...he is married, I didn't dare to tell you last time. I'm afraid that you will be sad. It is the daughter of the farmer in the village to the south."

"Oh." McGonagall said softly, she raised her head, looked at Isabel, and suddenly found that her mother's eyes were a little dodging. She keenly sensed that something was wrong, and said loudly, "No! What happened to him?"

"Honey, you have to accept reality..."

"Dad never lied," McGonagall turned his head to Robert coming out of the kitchen and asked, "Dad, what's wrong with Doug?"

Robert's expression was a little stiff, and he didn't speak.

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