My Classmate at Hogwarts is Voldemort

"If you don't even know who you are? How can I know?"

Barry frowned and looked at the head of Harriman in front of him. With the help of information provided by Krell, he knew all about "Riburn"'s former men, and Harriman was no exception. Did this guy encounter some kind of thing in the UK? blow? So that the brain becomes abnormal. A trace of doubt rose in his heart, raised his hand, and poked Harriman's forehead.

The setting sun lit up the tattoo on the back of his hand, and even his dark skin was dyed golden by the sun.

The afterglow of the setting sun shot from the broken roof of the church to the ground, leaving mottled orange-yellow light and shadow on the road full of bomb craters. This church built to commemorate Kaiser Wilhelm was capped in 1895 for half a century. In the period of time, this street that has passed through many people has never embraced the gentle sunset, and only when the church is in ruins, the roadbed that people have stepped on has the opportunity to feel the temperature.

Barry twisted his sore neck. His grasp of the current body was still a little sluggish. The incompatibility between soul and soul was like a curtain that was difficult to collapse, separating the puppet from the manipulator. With the slight connection, he blinked his dry eyelids and looked out of the window. The setting sun shining directly into the window made him unable to open his eyes. Fortunately, there was a towering statue blocking between him and the sun. In the shadow of his arms, Barry could see two people sitting on the bench. Those two people were familiar, maybe they were passers-by on the streets of Berlin? Barry doesn't think that besides himself, there are old people who are willing to come to such a bizarre and abstract place as Prussia. Maybe Nelson will come? He couldn't help but smile. The few years he worked with Nelson could almost be called the happiest time in his life. He didn't have to rush to prove his worth, and he didn't have to be surrounded by careful care.

It's just that he doesn't know why he always hides from me... The smile on Barry's face quickly turned bitter. He had missed this old friend many times, but he didn't realize that the miss came from another older friend. Caring - this inexplicable and embarrassing kind of caring he always received, and for Barry, it was White's arrogance and Nelson's eccentricity that made him feel a little less like a terminally ill patient.

He withdrew his gaze from the window, and Harriman stared at him unblinkingly, his eyes became dry because he had been open for too long, and instinctual tears were swirling in their sockets, although the tearful eyes were somewhat It made people laugh, but the serious and mechanically stiff expression on Harriman's face made Barry feel uncomfortable again and again, as if he was entangled in the body of this unknown African wizard. Harriman is also like a walking dead.

"Damn... what did this guy go through in England?"

It's not that he didn't think about the possibility of the real "Riburn" coming back, but after considering Nelson's character with no sand in his eyes, he naturally thought that in the hands of Nelson, this kind of wicked guy has been sentenced to death.

On the street opposite this unremarkable building, Nelson and Dumbledore once again returned to a harmonious chat, as if the story Dumbledore just told was just a simple fairy tale - a person who can travel through time reaps regrets again and again , once again pinning his hopes on the future, Nelson felt that his pockets were heavy. For most people in this world, ten years may only be ten years, but for this kind of escape is deeply felt. For a tightly bound traveler, every time he reads the letter, he bears several times, hundreds of times, and even countless times the sum total of more than ten years.

Dumbledore had a smile on his face, but his eyes were a little worried. He didn't think about the general trend of the world, but as a teacher, as the first pilot who led Nelson to magic, he cared about the burden of students that was not his own. Almost crushed shoulders.

But looking at Nelson's still straight back, he was not so worried. Compared to the status of "Grindelwald's disciple" that everyone was worried about, Dumbledore always felt that Nelson was an ordinary person like him.

"Let's talk about one other thing," Dumbledore said with a smile, patting Nelson's lap, "Mr. Abbott found me last week, the replacement of the Chocolate Frogs has been decided, and the two The hero in America's second-largest demise in Salem became the most vocal candidate."

"Really? Then Tom's going to be very happy." Nelson raised his eyebrows, "After all, he doesn't have the honor of being the youngest author to publish a paper in "Transfiguration Today", and he has always been bitter about it. "

"Haha, in fact, I feel happier than Mr. Aibo. The Chocolate Frog cartoon has been criticized because he always likes to choose some famous wizards for a long time. Fans are writing to him every day to tell him that the people in the picture are either too ugly. , or too old, they are looking forward to more young, handsome, popular wizards," Dumbledore patted his hands and laughed, "These chocolate frogs will be the first batch of food sold to Muggles after the secrecy law is repealed in London. I believe you who provide portrait rights will make a lot of money.”

"Tom Le is crazy now." Nelson laughed.

"Yes, that's why Mr. Abbott wants to make an appointment for your portrait," Dumbledore said. "The time is set for next weekend, so there won't be a lot of time to paint."

"As much as I want to be humble," Nelson struggled for a moment, then said with a smile, "but who can refuse to have their face on the most popular snack collection card?"

"Very well, you must dress up handsomely."

"Martha has the best robes for us."

"What you said, I want to order a dress from Miss Martha."

Dumbledore recounts the story of how he frugally bought chocolate frogs when he was young, and the atmosphere soon turns cheerful.

But in the small building across the street, the atmosphere between Barry and Harriman dropped to freezing point.

"You're not him, you're not that person, I'm sure." Harriman showed an unpredictable smile, as if someone was pulling his face and raising the corners of his mouth, he said without a smile, "You not him."

"Don't talk to me with that expression, are you a puppet?" Barry earnestly acted the usual majestic style of the rogue gang leader. He had long heard that Harriman was a pervert, but he didn't think of his illness. It's so serious, "Are you a puppet on the stage?"

"Isn't it? Who is not a puppet here?"

"Did you come back to Berlin just to annoy me?"

"It doesn't matter," Harriman turned around, showed his back to Barry without worry, and walked towards the door, ready to end this meaningless conversation, "Whether or not Liburn comes back, he can only Danced by the ropes stretched out from the south, he is just the chair you sit on, whether he is sitting here or not, as long as he can accomplish this mission, no one cares who he is."

"what do you want to say in the end?"

"Lieburn won't be angry, let alone be annoyed, he should only care about his mission and position," Harriman twisted the door handle, walked sideways out of the house, and bumped into the person who was about to enter the door. He staggered in his footsteps, stopped, turned his head and said to Barry, "You should know that it's useless for us to care, why do you have to come and grab a puppet's job?"

"Who are you?" Barry asked loudly.

"I'm Fritz Harriman, your faithful hyena," Harriman bowed slightly. After seeing someone suddenly in the seat that belonged to him, this man who was both Harriman and the leader of the rogue gang felt in his heart. Immediately, there was a calculation. Tom controlled his soul, but did not tie his brain. Seeing that the other party came prepared but he had no information, he immediately gave up his identity as the "rogue gang leader" and replaced the green poisonous snake in his eyes. Hiding, "I crossed the sea and came back here, waiting for your order, remember? For the greater good... oh no, it's the cause.."

After that, he turned and left without hesitation, passing the old man with scars at the door and the bald head with a straight face, apologizing softly, and quickly disappeared into the corridor.

"Oh? Andre? Zweig?" Barry raised his head, looked at the two dusty guests, and complained, "Andre, you didn't tell me before that this man is full of lunatics! "

Andrei didn't respond to Barry's complaint, just looked at Zweig beside him and nodded lightly.

Barry only had time to see Zweig raise his wand, and before he had time to complain, he felt a dizziness shot from the back to his forehead, his eyes darkened, he passed out, and faintly, Zweig and Ender could be heard. Strong conversation.

"If we make our own decisions like this, Lord Grindelwald won't be dissatisfied, will he?"

"You called me here, and now you're worried about this?"

"Hey...after all...forget it, let's take a look at Barry's condition first, to be honest, I thought Lord Grindelwald would choose a more 'Barry' body for him, this black man finds it strange, he also has Lots of tattoos, do you know him?"

"Don't find me strange relatives just because of some patterns. These runes are unique to Vagadu. They are not used to using magic wands, and prefer to strengthen themselves with deformation, alchemy and potions that they are good at. It seems that this man should be in Africa. He is a person with a head and a face, and I don't know what blood mold was caught here, do you have relevant information there?"

"If it's famous, I should be able to find it."

"It looks like Barry doesn't fit this body very well, you understand? It's like wearing a plus-size dress for you," Barry felt himself being picked up by Zweig and lying on the table, his shirt on. The back was lifted, and the cold metal products and wands slid around the spine. "I don't understand. Looking at the data, the leader of the rogue gang has changed several times. Why does Lord Grindelwald want Barry to come."

"It was he who strongly requested to go out."

"What a joke, you see! At least three bones are out of place here," Barry heard a clear "click", and a numbness came to his mind, "why not just find a reason to continue to let him go to Grindelwald Where's your aunt's aunt?"

"The Deathly Hallows have already been found, and the other two are in Nelson's place. Lord Grindelwald has given him the most important one. Also, let Barry go to England? Let him be Muggle or other. What was taken away? His body can't stand such a toss!"

Barry was a little embarrassed listening to the two exposing him in this way, but he also realized that Zweig and Andre shouldn't know they could hear it.

"The Deathly Hallows... It is said that it can extend the magic that touches the soul. If so, let Nelson come to see him."

"Forgive me, Zweig, do you know how much it took me to keep them from seeing each other in the future?"

"Can you ventilate Nelson, see a doctor first and then do something else? You have to follow these crooked ways. Now Barry has a silent magic power to maintain. If something goes wrong, what should you do? Do you give him artificial respiration?"

"White may not be happy..."

Turns out Nelson wasn't hiding from me! Barry suddenly realized, what are they hiding from themselves? These days, the most embarrassing thing about staying in Numengaard is not the weakness of dragging the sick body to bed, but the discomfort of being locked in a cabinet like porcelain. He wanted to ask clearly, but Zweig The stun spell is too effective.

"Wait, who's outside the window?"

"Let me see, what did you say?"

"Just behind the statue, there are two people sitting, looking over here, has anyone spotted us?"

"I didn't see it. There's nothing. You must have mistaken the crater or the shadow."

…

Diagon Alley, Savina-style clothing store.

Martha stared at Tom who was chatting with Umbridge in stunned eyes. In her impression, Tom had always been a loner, with the exception of Nelson and a few of his peers. People who are unwilling to answer, even some autistic people.

At this moment, Tom, who seemed to suffer from social bullying, was very different from the autistic child in his memory. Even in the face of the Ministry of Magic officials who Martha thought was unattainable, Tom looked very personable, even Umbridge. His mind was swaying and he wanted to surrender immediately. Those words full of interests and power were not like the students Tom claimed to be, but more like the big figures that Martha could not reach, those who had seen speeches on the streets of London from a distance. big shot.

Umbridge was a shrewd official, but a woman's instinct told her that this young and promising official had become Tom's turtle not long after the chat began, and her attitude quickly changed from politeness to tone. Enthusiastic and even flattering, Martha felt that she had seen too much "magic" today, she shook her head, walked to another row of shelves, and carefully looked at the wizard's cloth.

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