My Classmate at Hogwarts is Voldemort

"Deng deng deng-"

"Deng deng deng..."

"Boom!"

The sound of footsteps from far and near echoed in the dimly lit hall, the surrounding doors were closed, and no one came out to take charge of the colleague who was making noise during work hours. Maybe he was the only one on this floor, Nelson speculated. If he hadn't passed by the newly built Prophecy Hall on the floor of the Department of Mysteries, and had seen the only silent person other than him at the door, he would have even thought that what Richie had promised him was only a half-built floor. , The position of a bare commander, but he would not take the liberty to knock on every door to spy on the inside. In most cases, the members of the Department of Mysteries also need to keep silent to each other.

Nelson strode up and down the halls of the Department of Mysteries, the soles of his shoes colliding with the hard masonry ground, making clear and powerful footsteps, and he seemed to measure the entrance hall of the Ministry of Magic upstairs and upstairs with his footsteps. The exact same hall, buried deep in the ground, between above-and-beyond power and sin awaiting judgment, like a layer between magic and magic.

The black walnut wand's jet-black body loomed in the dark sight. Only the silver badge of the Knights of the Garter shone in the darkness. The key and badge, which were not one, collided, brewing in the dull air. The brisk sound similar to wind chimes made the closed doors look more like a top-secret place to study magic, rather than the torture room that Nelson subconsciously thought when he first came in.

"No...no," Nelson murmured as he appeared in every corner of the hall, sweeping his wand quickly across the easily overlooked nooks and crannies, "Neither, it's too clean."

"What are you looking for, Mr. Williams?"

An old question suddenly came from behind Nelson. He turned his head to look. A hunched old woman was standing in a slightly opened door with her back to him. The dark gray hair could almost blend into the shadow. Her voice It reminded Nelson of those witches in fairy tales who like to brew dark green bubbling potions, especially those witches who love to persecute princesses, "There is nothing in that hall except you and the things you brought in."

"Why don't you turn around, ma'am." Nelson asked subconsciously, but he quickly realized the rudeness and inappropriateness of his words, and said quickly, "Sorry, I want to ask, where is my room ?"

"I don't want to see what you brought, Mr. Williams, and I can't," the old woman shook her head. "There is a nameplate on your office door, and now there is only a name. We have prepared a welcome ceremony for you, but when it will be held. After the hall is cleaned up."

"thanks."

Nelson nodded, and before he finished speaking, the door closed in front of him. As he said before, the hall of the Department of Mysteries was too clean, and there were no spells or devices for monitoring or snooping, even if it was People who are greedy for profit will keep aloof and fearful in the face of the taboo knowledge that may exist on this floor.

He walked along the edge of the rotunda, lighting up the light with his wand, past the closed doors, and finally found his name on the door facing the entrance—as the old woman said, it was A nameplate with only a name - a plank stuck between the door frames that said "Nelson Wilttening Williams".

As soon as he got close, a pungent stale musty smell hit his face, and Nelson raised his hand and fanned his nose, reaching for the doorknob, but in the dim light of his wand he noticed the thick dust on it. , he snorted in disgust, pointed his wand at the door handle, turned his wrist flexibly, took a half step back, and kicked the door with a corner.

Compared to the wooden door, he felt more like being kicked on the sand dune. The wooden door shook violently. The door lock whose magic had been broken could not resist this force. With a "click" sound, the lock cylinder was broken and attached to the door. The dust was also raised up, Nelson nimbly jumped a step back, dodging the dust coming towards him, he raised his wand, and the hall was suddenly gusty, and the wind was raging and the clouds were left unattended for a long time. The dust blew outside the Department of Mysteries, and the black door of the Department of Mysteries was also slammed shut by the strong wind, blocking the only light from the corridor. Behind the open wooden door is his future office. , The dark patch can't see the area, and even the boundaries between the floor and the wall can't be distinguished. A mayfly with big eyes flew out of his pocket, and a strong light was emitted from its one eye, and it drilled in.

Nelson covered his mouth with his sleeve, waved his wand, and a dust-blocking hood appeared all over his body. Following the mayfly's guidance, he strode inside.

Under the strong light, he was able to see the clues of this office. Several unopened wooden boxes were piled in a corner. The wizard who brought these boxes here didn't want to stay for a second, so he just fled and left. He finally understood what the ambiguous attitude of the others in the Ministry of Magic was about the Department of Mysteries. He also understood what happened in last year's In the correspondence, Nobby Ritchie repeatedly asked if he really decided to go to the department for a reason.

"It's better to have nothing than stuff."

Nelson shrugged, raised his arms, and a flashing silver mayfly flew out of his pocket, flapped his wings and headed to every corner of the room. The room was illuminated, and Nelson noticed that the room of the Department of Mysteries was not as recently built as Nobby Ritchie had claimed, it looked very dated, with large blocks of stone brick with mottled walls and nails. The traces left by the bookshelf, a corner of the stone looks newer, it seems that there used to be a window there, but it was later sealed, as if an ancient building that already existed was moved to the negative ninth floor, and this is also the case. One of the places where Zweig's team of professional construction wizards couldn't step in.

The whole room is square and not small, but the body feels very cramped. The height of the floor obviously does not match the area, and it is almost the same length as the length and width, which makes Nelson feel like he has got into the box. There are several pipes leading to nowhere, but they have been cut in the middle and can only be regarded as decoration. There is an inconspicuous small wooden door in the depths of the room. Like other offices in the ministry, it is used for overtime wizards to rest. It's used, but you can tell from the boots that no one would want to sleep in such a place.

In addition, it was the dust thick as putty, and Nelson didn't even have a foot in it. He found a fairly clean ground, leaned back against the pile of boxes, took out a matza from his pocket and sat down decisively. He stretched out his wand and pointed to the wall where the small door of the lounge was located. The phantom of a giant steel fist flashed in front of him. The next second, the wall collapsed, and the protective spell attached to the wall Without going through the process of resistance, it was torn apart by the mayfly in the fog of loss that shrouded the front of the fist. Behind the masonry, a new space almost the size of the office was revealed.

Dumb alchemy puppets lined up and got out of his pockets, brandishing special cleaning tools, making the room dusty, and after some time, it became as clean as Nelson's house. , although the style is still clumsy, but Nelson can finally start.

He walked back into the hall. The dark stone door was still standing quietly. The wand in Nelson's hand was like a painter's paintbrush. During the dance, the door of the office suddenly widened. He followed the method and moved the black door into the hall. Moved it in again.

Nelson walked back, the alchemy puppet has completed the final finishing work, the scattered bricks and stones have been cleaned up, and the furniture piled in the corner has been moved out and placed in the room properly, but Nobby Rich is not here. In terms of fooling people, the cinnabar-colored desk is bright red and exudes a thick texture. The materials and workmanship are extremely elegant, and it looks very expensive.

Behind the desk was a high-back chair with a sharp sword-like tip that looked a bit like the one he had shown at the Triwizard Tournament, with manuscript paper, ink bottles, and some neatly arranged. For other stationery, a bookshelf that took up the entire wall stood empty by the wall. Nelson walked to the high-back chair and sat down. Behind him, he built a high platform similar to that of Auschwitz, and placed the black door closely. go up.

An alchemy puppet that completed the task climbed onto the desk and tried to get back into his pocket, but was held down by Nelson. He shook his head at the puppet and threw it on the bookshelf.

"You all stay here."

As soon as he finished speaking, the little things that were still running all over the ground disappeared instantly. Nelson took out a small silver ball from his pocket and opened it on the desk. Thick books were piled on the table. These are promises. For all the information related to the Department of Mysteries that Bill Ritchie could find, Nelson flipped through the information and glanced at the title and title page.

When all this was done, he raised his wand, held up the parchment that Ritchie had handed him, and whispered the words on it:

"I will seek the end and remain silent."

When the last syllable fell, the parchment turned into a stream of light shimmering with rune, and flew to the door and attached itself. From now on, unless you meet a wizard who is smarter than the person who wrote the parchment, this fan Only Nelson could open the door.

"It's quite decent, with a good sense of ceremony," Nelson shrugged, destroying the sense of ceremony that finally brewed, "I don't know my classmates... Oh no, what are my colleagues busy with every day."

His knuckles tapped the table regularly, and a small shiny silver ball appeared in his hand. The metal was as soft as plasticine in his hand. A silver thread thinner than a hair was hung in the room, and they gently brushed the desk and bookshelf, doing a final check, until the silver thread passed the high-back chair, a puff of smoke rose, and the chair. He let out a moan of dissipated magic power.

"Since everyone's curiosity can't be contained," Nelson smiled and squeezed the new small silver ball in his hand into various shapes. The silver thread drilled out from the crack of the door and swam in all directions along the crack of the stone wall. Nelson, sitting in the center, is like a giant eight-eyed spider in the forbidden forest, patiently waiting for the web to be woven, "I can't be exempt from the custom... I'm really curious, it's just to reinforce the building structure by the way."

The small silver ball in his hand is like a real life, looking for the fastest and most hidden path, extending towards a higher or deeper direction.

"Is it time for dinner?"

Nelson tucked the small silver ball into the drawer, stood up, walked out of the office, and looked at the still dark hall, he frowned, stretched out his wand and pointed at the central position, a large, many circles larger. The Goblet of Fire appeared in the center of the hall, and after being thrown into it by a spark, the bright flames burned brightly.

"crunch-"

The sound of the door opening came from behind Nelson's side. He turned his head and saw Boggart, who had met once - the manager of the Prophecy Hall who was fortunate enough to see his prophecy on the spot, and the only silent man he had ever seen.

The moment he saw Nelson's face, Bogut was like a rabbit who saw a natural enemy. He turned his head and was about to drill into the Hall of Prophecy, but one hand had already pressed the door. He raised his head with a bitter face and looked at At the smiling Nelson, "Mr. Williams, long time no see."

Nelson could feel his voice over and over again - "God, what a pity!"

This was the first time that people felt unlucky, which made Nelson very novel. He looked at Bogut's eyes and said with a smile: "Mr Bogut, I said we will meet again. of."

"You didn't say it." As the manager of the Hall of Prophecy, Boggart has a memory far beyond ordinary people. He instantly recalled the experience of the day he met Nelson, shook his head seriously, and said in a more serious tone, "You I really didn't say it."

"Oh? Really?" Nelson waved his hand. "Then I should have said you would be promoted?"

"Indeed."

"You're welcome."

"Why do I..." Boggart shook his head dejectedly, that could indeed be regarded as a "prophecy", and it came true, "Okay, thank you."

The first time he met Nelson, he just added a prophecy to the workload, and it was still such an explosive content. At this moment, he was cautious and only hoped that Nelson would stop doing these nonsense. UU reading www.uukanshu.com I hope this too young colleague understands what it means to be cautious in words and deeds, not to mention that Nelson is nominally one level higher than him.

Nelson looked at him and said, "I have something—"

"Don't say it! It's off work now!" Boggart covered his ears subconsciously. Mr. Boggart felt that if he did meet a Boggart, then it might become an outrageous prophecy. of Nelson.

The surroundings gradually quieted down, and when he let go of his hand and was glad he had escaped, he was stunned to find that Nelson had not left and opened his mouth to say something. He hurriedly raised his arm again, but this time Nelson did not give any He took this opportunity and held him down. "I want to ask where we should eat, Mr. Boggart."

Nelson closed the door for him kindly, and a silver light flashed away, making Boggart think it was an illusion brought about by the fire.

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