My Classmate at Hogwarts is Voldemort

"God...is this magic? This portrait actually moves, it's like...a movie."

In front of him, a plump lady in a medieval dress was leaning on a bench and dozing off. She was in a lush sea of ​​flowers, intoxicated by the chirping of birds and insects that did not exist around her. She was too quiet, As for the fact that only the butterflies that flew past her from time to time proved that the painting was moving.

The reporter was lying in front of the frame, under the dim light, staring at the flowing colors on the canvas, as if trying to imprint the paint and the texture of the canvas into his mind.

"What's the name of this painting... let me see." He stood on tiptoe, trying to get close to the top of the canvas

"Well... Mrs. Fat, it's really an image name."

Perhaps because she heard her name, the resting fat lady quickly responded and opened her slightly closed eyes.

But when she first saw the scene in front of her from the haze, she was almost convulsed by fear. As soon as she opened her eyes, she could see a large face that was uncertain in the candlelight on the canvas, just like her The child-eating monsters that my mother used to intimidate me when I was little when I was young She rolled down and was covered in dirty dirt and grass clippings, but she no longer cared about her appearance, she used her hands and feet to crawl out of the frame to escape, and while crawling, she shouted loudly: "Help me! Ah! Help! There are monsters! There are monsters!"

The voice became louder and louder, but the voice made out of fear became more and more vague, and the reporter outside the frame was also startled, his feet were unstable, he sat on the ground with his buttocks, and kept moving back with his buttocks. , want to principle this frame with monsters.

Along with Madam Fatty's exclamation, the faint candles in the corridor lit up, and the reporter calmed down a little. In this sudden shock, he showed far more calm than ordinary people. He put his hands in his arms and watched vigilantly. He stared at the corridor that suddenly lit up, but there were no monsters in the corridor. He didn't understand what the monster called by the woman in the painting just now was.

His eyes carefully turned to the canvas again, and then, a pair of hands clasping the frame appeared on the edge of the picture, and half of the fat lady's head was carefully protruding out, just in line with the reporter's gaze, the next second, she again Shrinking back, only the "help" that came from the edge of the frame, getting smaller and smaller.

"Me?" He quickly understood what had happened before, pointed to his nose, and couldn't help laughing, "As expected, it's rude to stare at a lady, but the characters in this painting can actually see the outside world. And to react, the movie picture I understand is still too conservative... But I can't blame it, after all, isn't it a movie that first made us realize magic?"

He stood up against the wall, patted the dirt on his buttocks, and approached the picture frame that had become empty. He kept changing the angle in front of the picture frame, trying to see the scenery outside the picture. A spectator watching someone else play Quidditch and swaying from side to side as if they were using their senses to manipulate the players to avoid the Bludgers.

In order to see it more clearly, he took out a lighter from his pocket, lit it and held it in front of him, close to the picture.

As luck would have it, the fat lady stuck her head out again. This time she looked much calmer, but as soon as she probed, she saw the monster that almost ate her again. This time the monster was even more terrifying than last time. She looked like a madman, not to mention the cigarette lighter in her hand, which looked like a devil. The fat lady finally couldn't bear it, she rolled her eyes and fell down limply, slamming her head under her feet. in soft meadows.

The reporter held up the lighter and approached the woman who was suddenly unconscious on the road again. She reached out her hand curiously, trying to see if the touch of the people in the painting was different from the paint.

His fingers trembling towards the Fat Lady, it was the most magical thing he had seen since he came to Hogwarts, and before that, except for the brick wall leading to Platform Nine and Three Quarters, he I haven't even seen a wizard's wand, this school is so normal, so normal that it's not too different from any school in London, and that's not what readers want to see.

A moving picture? This fun stuff is sure to pique people's interest!

Just when his fingertips were about to touch the canvas, the picture suddenly darkened, and an icy chill came from the canvas. Even without direct contact, his fingers had become numb due to frostbite and lost consciousness. The visible speed turned blue and purple, and upon a closer look, a fine layer of frost had formed on the canvas, which looked like black ice in the blind spot of the light.

"Are you... polite?"

Hearing the questioning from him, the reporter turned his head stiffly, and saw Tom's indifferent eyes behind a gargoyle sculpture he had just observed. With Tom's appearance, the wait in the corridor darkened again, and he seemed to be in. It was like a dark night, which made reporters feel a sense of fear of being watched by pervasive surveillance.

There was a sudden numbness under his feet, and the reporter hurriedly lowered his head to look. He was shocked to find that his feet were densely covered with icy scales of strange colors, countless amber vertical pupils stared at him, and a burning lighter was in the air. In a hurry, he slipped from the palm of his hand and fell into the ground, illuminating the group of snakes that had already crowded the floor for a moment, and was quickly engulfed by the sliding scales. He felt the entangled touch reaching his ankles, heading towards his knees.

The panic of "deep alone" finally broke out at this moment. His hand hurriedly reached into his arms, but he felt a clump of smooth scales. The next second, his palm was tightly wrapped by a snake, and the reporter pulled out his arm like a madman He was waving as if he were stunned, but the snake was getting tighter and tighter, and it hurt his metacarpal bones. Finally, after the entire right arm was tightly wrapped, he could no longer move, and restraint came from all over his body. In a sense of pain, an unbelievably long snake poked its head out from his shoulder, holding a delicate small pistol in its mouth, slowly crawled to Tom, and presented the seized weapon.

Tom lowered his head, took the firearm from the snake's mouth, tapped the trigger with his fingertips, spread out his palm, pieces of parts fell, and disappeared among the dense snakes. He raised his head and asked with a smile. Said: "Have you... found the toilet?"

"I found... I found it," the reporter nodded stiffly. His neck and mouth became the only movable parts of his body, and even his eyelids were gently picked up by the little snake. He was not allowed to close his eyes to escape all this. , he felt a great sense of oppression, it seemed that this was the norm when Muggles faced wizards, "Thank you...for showing me the way."

Tom seemed satisfied with his answer, nodded, and the snake locked around his throat loosened slightly, allowing reporter Zhang Hong's cheeks to relax a little.

"You know, what are you doing?"

Tom tilted his head, pouted at the portrait beside the reporter, and asked, "When you are interviewing, do you usually take advantage of the lady who is the interviewee when she faints and hit her with disgusting hands?" Gu Yan

"I'm not… I didn't—"

"Maybe we can wait for the Fat Lady to wake up and ask her what happened just now, and then hand you over to Wizengamore to decide, so you can get the privilege of interviewing at the wizard's prison," Tom raised his hand. A snake covered the reporter's mouth, "By the way, the wizard's prison is not like you, it has been vacant for a long time, and you can only interview Muggles who will tear them in half if you see them. Disciples, the jailers who will eat your soul."

"I... um." The reporter struggled violently. He couldn't imagine what a wizard's prison was like. Such a guy who played with snakes could stay outside safe and sound. What kind of wicked people were inside, but he said I didn't draw it, I just tried my best to send pleading eyes, hoping that Tom would let him go.

"You almost killed someone just now," Tom paused, as if recalling what the reporter's name was, but after thinking about it for a long time, he gave up. His memory didn't have any knowledge of this, and a thread stuck on the reporter's chest The little snake squeezed out the certificate he kept close to him, and handed the press card to Tom, "Oh! The press card, I have seen a few copies before, it seems that you are not a fake, Mr. Wallace. "

"Hold... I'm sorry, I don't know," the snake covering his mouth slid away from his face, and the reporter judging the situation hurriedly said, "I really, really didn't know it was a real person, I thought she was just like I saw her. The portraits I've seen, the pictures are the same."

"Really?" Tom shook his head. "The portraits of wizards are different from your pictures. They all survive by magic. You burn her, and she's really dead, Mr. Wallace, since you If you are a guest, you must at least abide by some civilized people’s rules.”

"I... just call me Mike." The reporter kept his posture very low. Although he didn't understand why some students wandered outside in the middle of the night and just bumped into him, it was only a momentary contact, he Then I understand that Muggles are basically powerless in front of wizards, and others can easily control him by playing with snakes!

"Oh? Mike, your name sounds like an American," Tom shook his head, his eyes suddenly turned cold, and the faint smile on his face disappeared, "You're not teaching Professor Dumbledore The residence you arranged is ready for tomorrow's interview outline, rest well, what are you doing in the castle in the middle of the night?!"

"I have nothing—"

"Crack!" A picture book caught in the waistband of his trousers fell out. Tom raised his hand, and the picture book flew into his hand lightly. He opened it and looked over it. The more he looked back, the more Tom became find it funny.

"What are you doing?" he asked coldly. "A panoramic map of Hogwarts? Have you prepared a blitzkrieg to sneak in from the grounds of Black Lake?"

"No... it's just my personal hobby, I like to sketch, I swear, this knowledge simply records what I see, and before coming, Professor Dumbledore told me that Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was cast a A kind of magic that cannot be marked on a map."

"Really?" Tom flipped through Mike's sketchbook page by page, and as he said, it was a sketch of scenes, but if these pictures were connected, "if you can't draw a map, you start to use your brain elsewhere. Did you? Draw the scenery along the railroad, draw all the intersections on the way from Hogsmeade to Hogwarts Castle, you guys are really smart, but I'm really curious, a school for minors , do you have such a high strategic position in your eyes?"

Seeing that the plan was seen through by Tom, Mike's face showed a look of despair. He couldn't imagine what kind of wrath Muggles would suffer from wizards after his actions were revealed. Although he didn't mean it, as long as Tom said so, It has been utterly speechless.

It was supposed to be an extremely subtle plan. Even during the day, he handed the sketchbook to a professor who was dining in the auditorium. Woolen cloth? He was puzzled and fell into silence, not noticing that following his memories, streaks of striking silver smoke were seeping out from his temples, being sucked by the little snake lying on his forehead.

"Trust me, Mr. Riedel, we really have no ill will, we're just afraid..."

"Your face makes me sick," Tom's legs didn't move, but he was supported by a group of snakes and approached him. The two stood face to face, Tom said coldly, "I have always thought that being a journalist is a noble profession. I didn't expect there would always be people like you."

After saying that, he raised his arm, his wand slipped out of his cuff and fell into the palm of his hand, Mike closed his eyes tightly, wizards are all murderous demons, thinking of this, his face turned pale, sweating profusely. The beads slipped from the forehead.

"I don't want to make trouble at a time like this." The imaginary pain didn't strike, he opened his eyes and watched Tom stuff an unknown cloud of silver smoke into a crystal bottle, "You have to be good. Think about how to explain what happened tonight to Professor Dumbledore tomorrow."

Tom bent down, UU read www. uukanshu. Com picked up the dropped lighter from the ground. Although it was buried by the snakes, there was still a faint flame beating. He raised the fire and pointed it at the footer of the sketchbook. The field of vision turned red.

The coldness in his palm made him lower his head, and a small snake was coiling in his palm, slowly turning into an identical book.

"It's just that since you're not pure... it's become useful."

This was the last word Mike heard from Tom. He stared blankly at Tom who raised his wand. Suddenly, a silver lightning struck his eyebrows. When he regained his senses, he quickly heard the portrait. Strong accusations against women in China.

When he opened his eyes, he was lying by the wall, surrounded by a few shabby professors who seemed to have just woken up, and he looked around blankly.

"Did I just...was looking at a painting?"

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