My Classmate at Hogwarts is Voldemort

"He also considers himself lucky."

Tom leaned on the side of the ship, looking at the calm sea, playing with the model of the cannon that Jack gave him. He twisted the mainspring, and the tin soldier standing behind the cannon stuffed a round cannonball into the barrel, and then, With the spring triggering the buckle, the cannonball with a thin iron chain was ejected from the muzzle. He picked up the small iron ball and handed it back to the artilleryman, repeating this action endlessly.

"Of course good luck," Nelson shrugged, rolled in front of his eyes by the two white waves drawn by the hull, he threw the oyster shell in his hand into the sea, and it swirled and painted several water floats, "That day Wouldn't it be lucky for him that I could pass by? I didn't have to tell him I was on that ship and let him always think I was a nuclear physicist, wouldn't it be nice? It's a beautiful misunderstanding."

"That's true."

Tom thoughtfully, snapped his fingers, and the waiter standing on the deck trotted towards the two of them. He wiped the sweat from his face and straightened his sailor cap. His cheeks were not sure whether it was seasickness or exposure to the sun. Tonghong: "Sir, do you need help?"

"Get me two glasses of ice water, will you?"

"Send it here?"

"That's right," Tom nodded. "By the way, are you an intern?"

"Yes, sir," the young man said nervously and stammered, "what am I doing wrong?"

"You're doing well," Nelson saw a familiar shadow on him, leaned against the guardrail, and asked casually, "What's your name?"

"My name is Jack, sir."

Hearing the same familiar name, Nelson slowly turned his head and glanced at Tom. It was still the same familiar route, and the two embarked on a journey to Paris on another cruise ship with an unremarkable name. .

...

Compared with the tension during the war, the atmosphere in Paris today is extraordinarily jubilant. Even though the war has passed for a long time, the people of Paris are still immersed in the joy of victory. Countless young men and women play hand in hand on the streets, carrying cheap goods. But the delicate little commodity, while laughing and cursing the Germans who have traumatized them, expresses their feelings to the people around them affectionately.

"It's really open," Tom said, even though he had been to Paris more than once, it was the first time Tom saw such a scene, and he couldn't help being a little shocked. "The enthusiasm of the Parisians is well-deserved."

The two got off the Polish seaport with a fixed route, and came to Paris by intermittent trains and occasional locomotives. Along the way, the color of the celebration became more and more intense, as if the Parisian New Year was set in summer, only These distinctive decorations are not used for festivals. The large numbers of 1944 and some French welcoming guests can be seen everywhere, mixed with the languages ​​of various countries, decorating the place with a posture of the coming of all countries.

In addition to French people, there are also many tourists from foreign countries, even more than locals. Those hotels and hotels that are difficult to fill up on weekdays are full of people, and cars that are usually rare are parked everywhere on the street. Make pedestrians have to walk in the middle of the road - but when the road traffic is good, many people choose to use the middle of the road as their red carpet.

"It just so happens that Paris is hosting the Expo," Nelson explained to Tom, "so we chose to host our Expo on the back of it, so it's more crowded and lively."

"Really?" Tom squinted at an oncoming passerby, "No wonder I always feel that some people on the street have a strange smell."

Nelson followed his gaze, almost without laughing, and saw a pompous man striding forward under the guard of his entourage, he had a judge-like pompous silver wool curly hair, wearing puff sleeves He is dressed in black and red stripes, wearing white high-leg socks for men inherited from the Napoleonic era, wearing a bright red cape, and even a pair of calfskin high heels, just like Napoleon himself.

And those who looked like entourages were also dressed in a variety of clothes, which made one of the men with an ugly expression and a normal suit look extraordinarily different.

They attracted the attention of many people on the street, but Parisians did not express too much emotion, because these days, they have long been used to seeing all kinds of strange people in strange clothes.

Nelson and Tom walked up to meet him, and as they passed Nelson lowered his voice and said, "Sir, Muggles in the twentieth century don't dress like that."

"Ok?"

Napoleon turned his head, but the two had disappeared into the crowd. He looked at the suit-clad entourage and asked in a strong French accent, "Am I weird?"

"You are very handsome." The man in the suit wrinkled his face into a bitter gourd, looking extremely painful.

"It stands to reason that the Expo will go through a brief period of closure, you know, it's easier to destroy than rebuild," Nelson and Tom greeted enthusiastically as they walked down the refreshing avenue with oncoming Parisians , walking down a street, he had high fives with no less than ten people, Nelson rubbed his red palms and said to Tom with a smile, "You see, although most people think that the most severely injured in the war It was the occupied countries, especially the Far East, out of sight of the Europeans, but the French always emphasized that they were the ones who suffered the most."

"Why?" Tom looked around. Most of the buildings he saw last time he came to Paris are still there, not much damaged. The scene here looks more than a little better than London. "I don't think they even have streets. How to get hurt."

"You must know that they surrendered too quickly," Nelson shrugged and said in a low voice, "The Germans still love the property in their occupied areas, but it is precisely because of this rapid surrender that The French who didn't participate in the exhibition were scolded for being too funny. I remember seeing a battle report in Krakow before. There are many rebel guerrillas in France, but they don't even know who they should follow. This is a sad story."

"That's really sad." Tom looked at the people coming and going in the street with a different look, as if trying to find a capitulationist temperament in them, but quickly failed.

"So they desperately need a grand event to declare their hard-won victory," Nelson said, facing the street, looking at the festive banners hung up by the workers and the French-style decorations. The damage is not big. Even for France, which has received part of the German heritage, the World Exposition that other countries are not willing to hold has become the most suitable event. It happened that they held an expo in 1937, right This thing is quite handy.”

"Countries..." Tom had some longing for the so-called "Countries".

"Not so much," Nelson shook his head, "Britain has held it before. The venue for the first World Expo was called the Crystal Palace. It was a magnificent building. Unfortunately, it was burnt down a year before we were born... By the way. , are you hungry? I saw a snack there."

Without waiting for Tom to answer, Nelson, who had become hungry during the bumpy journey, walked to the street stall, which was filled with creamy, finger biscuits and puff-like things. Tom kneaded. He was also a little hungry. After arriving in Paris, the dry food brought from the UK immediately became a burden that took up space in the package. By the time he came to the booth, Nelson was already fluent in French and the booth. The Lord talked.

"Sir, what is this?"

The bearded stall owner raised his eyelids and glanced at Nelson, tilted his head, and asked, "Foreigners?"

"We're from England," Nelson nodded, pointing to a few of them that looked more creamy in color, "please pack these up."

"British? Then you have to taste it, you won't be able to eat this kind of good food when you return to the UK," the stall owner's national self-confidence jumped up, he puffed out his chest, and proudly introduced, "This It's a choux puff, we call it the Duchess's Pain, of course, the name is a bit nasty, and we've been debating whether to change it to 'Lightning Puff', because it's delicious enough to make you eat like lightning. It swallows quickly."

Although what the stall owner said might be true, Tom was still upset by his pretentious attitude, and he raised his eyebrows and asked, "Is it really that fast?"

The stall owner nodded solemnly, grabbed a puff in front of him, swallowed it whole, and showed a satisfied smile, he could see that he had been looking for an excuse to eat one for a long time, but Tom's next sentence made him His smile froze on his face.

"It's really fast, I think it's faster than lightning," Tom said earnestly, and the stall owner nodded in satisfaction, but he continued, "I think compared to 'Lightning Puff', 'Lightning Puff' this The name might be more appropriate, because it's as fast as—"

"Keep the change, please!"

Nelson covered Tom's mouth, checked out faster than a blitz, threw the banknotes on the cart, and dragged Tom out of the block, leaving the stall owner whose confidence was damaged in place.

Walking around the corner, Tom muttered with his cheeks bulging: "If they could surrender later, London wouldn't be blown up like that... don't tell me, it's delicious."

Looking at Tom, who was cleaning the puffs with lightning speed like the wind and clouds, Nelson smiled and said, "I have already found someone to help us book a room, enough to live until September, do you want to live in Paris or in a hidden place."

"Paris," said Tom after thinking for a moment, "I want to see what the fair will look like."

"The last World Expo was held in San Francisco in the United States, and the theme was 'Building the World of Tomorrow'," Nelson continued to introduce like a competent tour guide, "The theme of this year's Expo in Paris just happened to be called 'Towards the World of Tomorrow', by coincidence The thing is, the Wizarding Fair also has this theme."

Tom rubbed his chin, but didn't speak. He felt that this was not just a coincidence, but maybe Nelson, who paid attention to the sense of ritual, was obstructing it and moved his hands and feet. Maybe the original theme of this World Expo was "Eating Blitz Puffs". indefinite.

As they talked, several more wizards in fancy clothes passed them, some dressed like a Mesoamerican native, some who looked like they were about to get married or crowned, and a group of The oriental-faced wizards wore cloud-printed robes, and they were all very eye-catching. Some of the oriental wizards attended the meeting dealing with the Second Salem incident and had some impressions of Nelson. They smiled and nodded at him.

"I haven't seen the wizards in the East. I heard that they like to use swords. They may be warriors like Gryffindor." Tom analyzed blindly, trying to find a scabbard or something on the group of people. .

"Stereotype," Nelson shook his head, "did you forget? When we came back, there was one on board, and their magic was indeed quite different from wizards in Europe."

"Speaking of which, there are so many wizards gathered in Paris."

"Probably the most ever," Nelson nodded. "The president of the International Federation of Wizards will also be elected at this meeting. Originally, I thought this would be difficult, but I didn't expect all aspects, including Grindelwald's. , there are appeals that can be realized with the help of it, so the propaganda is unprecedented, and it has received a lot of support. If the effect is good, it is even expected to become a regular event. Besides us, there will be other countries participating in the exhibition. Their magic stuff."

"Will you show those toys of yours?" Tom asked curiously.

"This time it's not a toy, it's something good enough to change our lives," Nelson raised his eyebrows and said, "The attempt in the British wizarding world has achieved great success, and I believe no one will refuse better life, and the two World Expos held at the same time have the same climax, I can't wait to see this scene!"

"I know, that movie isn't it."

"..."

"Why do not you speak?"

"I was thinking, if someone at Hogwarts dies unexpectedly overseas, Dumbledore wouldn't track it down, would he?"

"Haha, what are you talking about," Tom handed Nelson the few remaining snacks in his hand, "eat some blitz puffs."

...

"It's actually this hotel."

The familiar spiral staircase, the familiar top-floor room, the familiar pine-scented fireplace and the familiar sofa, Tom never imagined that the room that Nelson ordered was the one that old Riddle used to live in. , he could not help but once again lamented the tricks of his fate.

"What's the matter?" Nelson instructed the waiter to move the suitcase sent early into the room, turned his head and said, "This is the best one you can book. Are you allergic to pine branches?"

"Not at all." Tom opened the curtains and observed the street under his feet. Not far from the Paris Opera House, he happened to see the corner of the alley and the entrance to the hidden place. Tom saw the street where Pitty was standing. There is a long queue at the entrance of the alley of the Asian sculpture. Did someone run out of it happily, as if on a pilgrimage.

"What's going on there."

"Sir," said the hotel manager with a smile, who had just heard the arrival of the guests and climbed upstairs, "this is the most famous classic in Paris in recent years. There is still some time before the opening of the Expo. If you are interested, you can go there. Walk around, the stories about it are written on the walls of that street."

"Looking for... Pitia?" Tom asked in disbelief, turning his head to look at the stiff Nelson, raising his eyebrows.

"Have you heard of it too?" said the manager, looking very proud. He bowed slightly and said, "That is the treasure of our French spirit."