My Classmate at Hogwarts is Voldemort

"what?"

"Didn't you hear me?" Flivy helped Ludwig who was kneeling on the ground up, and patted the dirt on his body with his small hands. "You passed, Mr. Kant."

"I didn't—"

"No." Looking at Ludwig with cold sweat on his forehead, Flivy pointed his wand to his thigh, "Healed quickly."

Ludwig’s face eased a little from his paleness. Flivy even helped him fix the holes in his clothes to prevent him from being too embarrassed. After doing all this, Flivy said with a smile, "I said Yes, as long as you reach one of the three standards, you will pass."

"But I did not defeat you."

"You didn't lose to me either."

Flivy patted him on the shoulder and encouraged, "You have fulfilled the conditions required by my rules. Go ahead, you see, Tom has reached his second level."

"Huh?" When Ludwig wanted to say something else, Flivy pushed behind him, and he stumbled towards the exit of the duel challenge.

In the auditorium, Hagrid didn't know when he touched the back of Boothbarton's seat. He tried his best to shrink himself, but his big man still betrayed him within a few seconds.

The two young men sitting in the back row of Boothbarton laughed and made room for him, pressing him next to the same tall girl.

"Hello Olim..." Hagrid greeted timidly like a cat making a mistake.

"Watching the game, Hagrid," the tall girl is the future Mrs. Maxim, she repeated with a stern face, "Watching the game."

"Where is our warrior?" A Boothbarton girl stared at the calm water of the Black Lake, and said with some worry, "The Durmstrang guys have passed his first pass..."

"Isn't it drowning?" Another girl speculated maliciously, "I said it a long time ago. Sagan's fancy magic is useless, and it's just embarrassing to bring her out to be selected."

Her words were hard to hear, but the surrounding students did not refute, only the other group of Bussbarton students a little far away cast dissatisfied eyes.

"Zoe...Speak less..." the girl next to her persuaded.

"Why don't you talk less?!" Zoe broke out a strong dissatisfaction. She was the best student among the students who came to Busbarton this time, and one of the people most expected to become a Warrior.

"Fish will not be drowned." Margaret's brother said in a low voice in the corner, "and... she is the champion chosen by the Goblet of Fire!"

"Come on, Margaret's brother," Zoe mocked. "Look at her, pretending to—"

"I'm not Margaret's brother!" Margaret's brother was impatient, he shouted, "My name is Gene! Call me Gene!"

"Well, Margaret's brother," Zoe's tone suddenly softened, "then please tell me, where is Genn's sister?"

"she was…"

"Concentrate on watching the game."

The teacher on the side finally made a sound to stop the dispute that had attracted a lot of attention. He shook his head and looked at the water curtain in front of him. Marguerite swam so fast that the picture was blurred. But soon, an object gleaming golden light in the water appeared in the picture before him. It looked like a key, which was curled up by a thick tentacles and floated in the water like bait.

"Oh! God! It's incredible!"

The voice of the commentary suddenly became high-pitched, and the audience's eyes were immediately attracted by him. He was standing on the commentary stand and shouting, "Riddle jumped directly into the cauldron. I admit that this speed is really fast. Yes, but doesn't he need to do any protection? You know—"

The commentary seemed to be choked by the throat, and the voice stopped abruptly. When Tom’s robe was about to fall to the ground, a puff of black smoke came out. He paused in the air for a moment and then landed steadily. This set of coherent movements choked off. Sir Newton's throat.

Tom stood at the bottom of the cauldron, looking at the spiral staircase on the inner wall, frowning. Half of his boots were submerged in the purple liquid at the bottom of the cauldron, and the surrounding air was also filled with a thin purple mist. Tom slapped some mist with his hand and smelled it. It didn't smell, but the fragrance of violets, but his face slowly turned purple at a speed visible to the naked eye, which was obviously poisoned.

On the podium, Gaston Raymond, a French potion master and editor-in-chief of "Practical Potions Master", smiled and said to the guests around, "Don't worry, since I am not there, I must be the perfect solution. Avoid this handsome boy from being poisoned by me."

"You see that his face is purple," the guest on the side was dumbfounded, "obviously he was poisoned."

"Of course not," Gaston explained. "This is my newly created antidote research method, and it can also be used in the treatment of diseases. Before the game started, I had already used alchemy to kill the active ingredients in the poison. Dead, this is just a'death poison'."

"Dead poison?"

"Yes, for example, what the young warrior now inhales is a tranquilizer made from hydrangea. This is a kind of calmness that has long been eliminated—"

"I know, let's talk about the main point, and talk about your'dead poison'!" The guests' attention was all attracted by the owner of the level, and they almost forgot the game on the field.

"Okay, okay," Gaston waved his hand. "As we all know, this tranquilizer will faint after inhaling three puffs. I only need to find the main ingredient in the potion that causes people to faint and make it ineffective. You see, he has sucked a lot, now his face is a little purple."

"But what's the point of this? To create a poison that is not toxic?"

"You have to know that many potions and even diseases have no antidote," Gaston said meaningfully. "This method can provide us with an opportunity to develop an antidote. You must know that although it is not toxic, it is ultimately It's still the original poison, so the antidote is the natural antidote that can be dispelled."

"Well, in fact, everything you said can be solved with dung stones."

"This is our difference. The most important job of a potionist is to solve problems." Gaston looked at Tom in the water curtain and ended the topic with a smile.

In the cauldron, Tom was still standing at the bottom, and he didn't seem to notice anything except a little sticky under his feet.

His entire face was already purple like a peeled and steamed purple potato, standing at the bottom of the cauldron and thinking about life.

The audience laughed happily looking at Tom's appearance. People who are familiar with him can hardly associate him with this funny purple face and the heavy burden of an ordinary idol.

"It seems that Riddle is stunned. He doesn't seem to know what happened." Even the commentator joked, "Don't tell me, this special complexion can only be controlled by a good-founded person. Look, even his The face is purple and it looks handsome."

Amidst the laughter of the audience, the commentator talked about an interesting fact about him when he was a Quidditch athlete: "We played a friendly match with the wizards of Tibet. They had a custom called'ocher noodles'. At the celebration, the wizard over there would paint his face red. After the friendly match, I went home with a red face. My little girl who thought it might be a dumb gun was scared when she saw me. With a jump, magic power burst out suddenly..."

This kind of awakening of magic power due to extreme fear is not uncommon among wizards, but it is indeed a bit funny to be scared by one's own father to show wizard talent.

When Tom heard the commentary and talked freely, he raised his head and looked up.

"Wow, it seems that our small talk made Riddle discover his own dilemma," the commentator shrugged and said, "I think the tournament team should consider soundproofing the players or something..."

Tom raised his hand and touched his face expressionlessly. The level of the liquid under his feet was slowly rising, and the thick purple mist in the air was getting thicker. His vision was greatly hindered and he could no longer see the crucible. The inner wall of it.

He conjured a simple mirror and took a picture of his dark face in the purple. His expression was full of surprise. Unlike the audience's imagination, his surprise did not come from the level, but from the preparations before the game.

…

"Gnar, what is this? Needle? Inject fluid into the body? Is this a torture instrument?"

On the second day when Nelson invited Myrtle to be his dancing partner, Tom, who accompanied him to the owl room to pick up the package, was carrying the opened package and flipping through the top book. The colorful illustrations on the first few pages made his mind naturally. The ground raised a natural human discomfort with sharp syringes.

The author of this book is Gaston Raymond. This unfamiliar French name puzzles him, and the Muggle Press printed on the bottom of the cover makes him even more confused about Nelson's purpose of buying the book.

"Who is this? Muggle doctor? Why do you want to buy this kind of book?"

"It's not just a Muggle doctor," Nelson shook his head. "This is one of the guests from France, but he only came once at the opening ceremony. The prom was not attended, so it is normal for you to have no impression of him. Thing."

"Is he a wizard too?" Tom asked curiously, looking at the introduction to the doctor on the title page.

"He is not just a wizard, but whenever you look at the catalog of "Practical Potions Master", you will notice his name. He is the editor-in-chief of this magazine, the world's most powerful potion master..."

"Is Professor Slughorn good?"

"…one."

"That's right," Tom put down his book and sent out a soul torture, "Why do you watch "Practical Potions Master"?"

"I... Why can't I watch "Practical Potions Master"?" Nelson was a little frustrated. "You can't question me just because I didn't do well in the potions class—"

"I haven't said anything yet." Tom said quietly, and a word blocked Nelson's mouth.

"Well, aside from my potions class grades, this Gaston Raymond is one of the people most likely to appear in the first level," Nelson said openly. "Professor Sigmund does not Stop emphasizing'fairness, justice and openness', so for the selection of personnel, he will definitely choose the same number of candidates in the area where the three schools are located. In my estimation, two or three graduates from each school will be selected. It’s the most appropriate number."

"Do we need to face six to nine levels?" Tom frowned. "This... If you encounter a difficult person, don't we have to fight until the next morning?"

"Not so," Nelson shook his head, "You know, time is precious. I don't know the specific competition system, but if it is a level-breaking competition, there is a high probability that you will need to choose a level to challenge. In addition, I have statistics. In the competition system of the previous Triwizard Tournaments, the rivalry between the Warriors often appeared in the third event, and only once appeared in the first event. The Triwizard Tournament was also a failure."

"and so…"

"So the probability of the first item is that the three warriors will choose the same number of opponents from several wizards, pass their levels, and then be scored by the judges. I am not sure if I can choose the same, but even if I choose the same Opponents also need to be prioritized," Nelson took out a small notebook, and let Tom "hum and hum" carrying the package, and said lightly, "So you need to challenge as quickly as possible in the first level. People we know."

"Felius?" Tom thought, UU reading www.uukanshu.com "I am really familiar with his magic. If the request is not to defeat him, I should be able to pass the level quickly."

"No, I hope you choose Newt."

"?" Tom wished to grow a pinch of hair that can be changed freely on Nelson's head. "Did you not see that cystic leopard? Dumbledore would have to waste a lot of time facing him alone!"

"No, you may not have noticed," Nelson had a win-win smile on his face. "The last time we went to eat, I saw the brown mole in his box, which is unique to Central America. It's nothing. Fantastic animals, the only use may be food."

"food?"

"Yes, I asked Walburga to look it up," Nelson nodded. "In a 1887 edition of the "Guide to Keeping Dangerous Fantastic Beasts", she found this kind of mice. They are a common magical animal in Central America. Favorite food-birds and snakes."

"Birds and snakes?" Tom's eyes showed a playful look. "Is the birds and snakes a snake?"

"A former magic animal smuggler I know told me," Nelson said with a smile, "birds and snakes are birds and snakes. Since Newt brought birds and snakes this time, it must be useful, you say is it?"

Tom's hands were lighter while carrying the package, and he tossed a stack of books around.

"I'm sorry, Newt," Tom said suddenly.

"I'm sorry, Newt." Nelson also smiled. "If the first opponent can choose Newt, I suggest you choose him. In order to win, it's nothing."

"What about the second one?"

…

The purple water under Tom's feet has not passed his knees, but he still doesn't move, as if he's been in a illusion.

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