My Classmate at Hogwarts is Voldemort

　　 "Are you talking about the Department of Mysteries?" Tom raised his eyebrows, "Don't make any strange predictions."

　　 "Did he make any predictions?" Credence asked curiously.

　　 "You don't want to know."

　　 "Tell me, maybe I want to know."

　　 "Do you want to bet?"

　　...

"Ding-"

　　 In the red newsstand, a stiff female voice sounded.

　　 "Welcome to the British Ministry of Magic, please tell me the reason for your visit."

　　 "Excuse me? It's a new building, these things need to be improved," Nelson raised his eyebrows, and the gilt letter cylinder slipped out of his cuff. "I'm here to find Nobby Rich."

　　 "Excuse me—" The female voice paused, and soon changed to a real human voice, "You don't need to make an appointment, please wait a moment."

The space inside the 　　 pavilion plummeted, and it was possible to go deep underground without being flushed away by the toilet. The "privilege" mentioned in the letter by Rich also had some real effects.

Not long after, the glass door in front of Nelson opened, and what was greeted was a clean and spacious corridor. There were only two doors in the entire corridor, and one of the larger wooden doors was being pushed open hard, a group of shameless wizards. Angrily filed out through the door.

They were dressed luxuriously but out of fashion, with cumbersome ornaments hung on their bodies, but revealed a rascal temperament. Nelson even saw a few familiar faces among the group of people. Except for the older ones, he was almost the same. A copy of some of Lettering's classmates.

　　 Nelson leaned against the wall and let them pass.

　　 "Who does he think he is? Shafik's dog!"

　　 "This is his site, you can say a little less."

　　 "When is it your turn to teach me? This place was our place not long ago!"

　　 "There is someone in front, you..."

The wizard at the head of 　　 gritted his teeth and walked towards Nelson. After being reminded to see someone not far away, he put away his anger, lifted his chin, and maintained his stance.

　　 The yellowish hair color may not be very recognizable in the UK, but the iconic cane and beauty tip are too easy to recognize.

　　 "Mr. Malfoy."

　　 When he passed in front of him arrogantly, Nelson lifted the brim of his hat slightly, smiled and greeted him. He only felt amused when he heard the group of shamans who used to call the wind and rain like gangsters talking about "territory" and other topics.

　　 "Huh?" Old Malfoy stopped, his cane stopped on the ground, his eyes narrowed, and he looked at Nelson who was standing next to him, as if his eyes were not very good, "You are?"

　　 The wizard who told him not to speak leaned close to his ear and said something softly. He opened his eyes wide and carefully looked at Nelson's face.

　　 "Your child Abraxas and I are Slytherin's classmates," Nelson glanced at the large group of people blocked by the stopped old Malfoy, and said softly, "But I'm older than him."

　　 "Slytherin should have such an air," Old Malfoy nodded, his eyes rolled, and his conversation turned, "But I heard that you...you and Black's family are very close."

　　 For an instant, Nelson thought he was going to reproduce Harry Potter's school experience, but then, the words of old Malfoy surprised him.

"I used to be good friends with Bollocks. At Hogwarts," he had a sighing expression on his face, "It's a pity that I have been caught up in trivial matters over the years, and I have become a little cold in my relationship with old friends. Seeing you, I think of when I was young."

　　 "Hiss..." Nelson took a deep breath. Just before the start of school, he had heard Bollock scolded his mother at Black's house.

"You woke me up suddenly," old Malfoy said with a smile, "you must go back to find an old friend to reminisce about the past, and be a guest at home when you have time. Abramaxus admires you as a senior, especially after August. I’m talking about me at home every day. On my birthday this year, he also gave me a snuff bottle that is automatically filled with snuff. You are much better than us old guys."

Nelson dared to make a guarantee. Abraxas would rather get Dragon plague syphilis than think about himself, and even the factory in Newmontgard does not produce snuff bottles, but now that his father said so, he has to think about it, old Marl. Fu took Nelson a few more greetings, and didn't have the arrogance that he had imagined. This old and fine guy is full of subtexts of "getting money together" and "I can help you earn more". They won't look like young people. People are so impulsive, knowing how to hold on to any life-saving straw, and tirelessly Nelson has to leave a sentence "You can have a good chat with Mr. Black."

　　 "It's enough to have you." Old Malfoy's eyes improved immediately, "Are you going to find the Minister? I won't bother you."

　　 "You go slowly."

　　 "By the way, that kid is not a good person," Old Malfoy twitched his eyebrows. "You are different. You are a Slater. You are born with us."

　　 "Ah, yes, yes." Nelson didn't show his disgust, but simply said goodbye, squeezed the crowd, and walked towards the still shaking door.

　　 They didn't stop either, and rushed into the elevator stopped by the corridor.

Gu </span>　　 "For most people in this world, mediocrity is the eternal theme of life."

There are no furnishings to embellish the atmosphere in the huge office. The walls are covered with newly painted white putty, creating a sense of boundless and oppressive chaotic space. A wooden table with lacquer fragrance is placed in the center of the office. , The tall and wide office chairs are facing the door of the room and placed in a symmetrical position. They just look like a poor imitation of the chair seat of Wissengammon, except for them and the clothes hanger at the door. The office is simply a rough room.

　　 "I might have been such a person before, but then I discovered that the definition of this thing is completely based on comparison. Compared with you, I am so wise to be abnormal."

The door is creaking and swaying, and I don’t know how much resentment the person who just pushed it open makes its work so durable. The smooth tile floor is full of footprints, they are intricate and overlapped. , Different in size, it seems that many people are experiencing an extraordinary struggle here just now.

At this moment, the high-backed chair was twisting slightly from side to side. A young but not young hand stretched out from behind the chair, holding a tin soldier holding a sword, waving in the air like an unenlightened child. From time to time, I danced with the devil in the other hand with the sword, the shadow of the sword, and the flickering of the magic light.

　　 The sound of footsteps came from the door, and the war between the tin soldier and the demon king was stopped by the referee.

"Is there anything else?" the person behind the chair said impatiently. "If it's still the same fool as a year ago, I suggest you go home now and contact the jailer of Azkaban, and find one for you. Better berths."

　　 Nelson, who had just walked in holding the swaying door, gave a chuckle, looked around the room, rubbed his ears that were a little red from the cold, took off his hat, and hung it on the hanger at the door.

"Thank you for your support of our products, Minister Rich," he said with a smile while standing at the door, holding the letterbox without screw cap in his hand, looking at the small sharp sword protruding from the edge of the back of the chair." The tin soldier in your hand is made by mediocre ordinary people, but it also brings you happiness, doesn't it?"

Hearing his voice, the chair suddenly stopped, and then quickly turned around. Noby Ritchie no longer had the panic when he was surrounded and suppressed by various tangled magic families, his ruddy face was full of calmness and contentment. He carefully placed the tin soldier and the demon in black robe on the table, straightened up and took a look, and saw that their faces were still somewhat asymmetrical, so he stretched out his hand to adjust the position.

　　 After doing this, he smiled after exercising for a month, opened his arms, and said exaggeratedly: "Oh! Look who's here!"

　　 An eternal opening remark. Since this lucky guy became Minister of Magic, Nelson has not heard other greetings from him.

　　 "Good day, Mr. Minister."

"Merlin's pants, you should have known it," Richie rubbed his bloodshot cheeks, stood up, and walked quickly to Nelson's side with wind under his feet, half complaining and half affectionate." You know, there are always some less welcome guys running into my office lately, so I asked the housekeeper to remove the sofas and chairs here. Look, you have to stand up for a while. Wait a minute, I'll tell someone to move the stool. You can rest on my chair for a while."

Seeing Rich’s affectionate and even a little flattering attitude, Nelson is not surprised at all. The high-quality and low-cost products of Newmont Gade destroyed the family workshops in Diagon Alley that had been in business for a hundred years without any resistance. A proud industry, and these families that rely on monopoly to grab wealth all the year round are the diehards of the Ministry of Magic. Not only did they win the ranks of the former Minister of Welfare, who could do nothing, but also because of the original Ritchie. The search was almost driven overseas by the pure-blooded counter-attack to establish a government in exile, while the helpless, Muggle-born young minister who was only supported by Judge Shafiq was led by the sanctions against the Magic Congress during the holidays. Shining brilliantly, sitting firmly in position, and after one goes back and forth, it is no wonder that the group of people who have just left the house have such stinky faces.

To be honest, even if Nobby Rich suddenly knelt on the ground and knocked himself off, Nelson would not be surprised, but he did not behave domineering because of this. Instead, he smiled and reached into his pocket and took it out of it. The silver folding stool shook, and smiled, "It's okay, I brought the stool myself."

"Hahaha," Ritchie was stunned when he saw the folding stool, and then laughed loudly, "You are always prepared like this. It seems that this is the reason why you can always do things that others can't do! But! I still know that I will meet them, and I can’t overemphasize a grand welcome to important guests.”

　　 Nelson shrugged, moved the folding stool to the desk, and sat down.

　　 Rich said sorry, took the door and left.

　　 Nelson looked at the furnishings in the office, and sighed in his heart. This minister, who is not much older than himself, can now scorch those people out, and he is simply born to be a minister.

　　 But this image is difficult to associate with the newcomer of the Law Enforcement Department who dared to impeach the then minister. Perhaps this position prompted him to make an adaptive change.

　　 Not much to say, the turning of the door shaft sounded again.

　　 "Mr. Minister," Nelson asked in a curious tone when he heard the door opening, "When I just came over, I ran into a group of people who had just walked out of your office."

"Oh, you said those guys," Richie groaned comfortably as he sat on the high-back chair. "Stubborn guys, if the British wizarding world really let them be at the helm, within ten years, We may not even match the Muggles after the war."

　　 "Is it so serious?"

"Of course, this is why we chose to absorb young blood." Rich crossed his fingers and imitated Dumbledore's gesture. "Times are advancing. Look at the tin soldier in front of me. How could the children of the past have this kind of self-control? A moving toy like a wizard chess."

　　The tin soldier on the table raised his small stabbing sword on his own, and charged bravely at the opposite demon king, but was quickly hit under the table by a curse.

"In our list, you, Tom Riddle, Miranda Gosak, and Aristo Moody are all outstanding Hogwarts graduates we will try to recruit in the next few years. "Rich took out a long list and pushed it in front of Nelson, "Of course, there are many others, but they need to be distinguished in importance."

Nelson was reading this list. Most of them are students who have performed well in school. Their strengths are prominent in all aspects. By the time of Christian, Moody was the only one.

　　 "Moody?"

"Oh, UU reading www.uukanshu.com, you may not pay attention to these things," Rich explained patiently. "He won the championship in the World Youth Dueling Competition. The honor Levy once won, we think, he is enough to become an excellent Auror, adding some fresh faces that should have been entered in Azkaban, which was in vain under the rule of welfare."

　　 "He really has potential." Nelson had to agree with the vision of this list.

"In the past few years, the Ministry of Magic has become less and less attractive, Nelson," Richie spread out his hands and said helplessly. The smell of erosion is very bad. As I said before, most people are mediocre, but if we let them occupy the position of power, then this country has no future."

　　Ricci had the shadow of Grindelwald in his words, and Nelson couldn't help but worry, he was about to forget his Muggle origin.

"But Mr. Shafik, our esteemed chief of Newmondgard, he is different from most people. He has a pair of discerning eyes," Richie leaned closer and said in a low voice, "He can find us As a hopeful person, you may not believe it. This list is just an addition to you. If you count the time, Mr. Shafik should also come."

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