My Classmate at Hogwarts is Voldemort

"You killed him?"

Richie's eyes widened, ignoring the Auror's dissuasion, he pushed aside the iron bars of the prison, rushed to Shafik's side, stretched out his hand, and probed his breath, after a pause for a few seconds, he turned around dumbfounded. He turned his head and stared at the wand in Nelson's hand.

"I said, he committed suicide, and died in an unseemly manner. I just happened to be there," Nelson said, frowning. "Just passing by here."

Richie let go of his hand, Shafiq's neck softened weakly, and the head of the justice slipped from his hands and slammed on the cold back of the chair. No matter what, he could not accept the fact that a man who had been under pressure for several years could not accept it. He was out of breath and like a hot potato even after being sent into Azkaban. Someone so hard to deal with died like this. Rich had thought that Shafiq would at least work out of Azka before he died. Caban, died decently in the sun.

He brought Nelson to Azkaban, and he didn't have the idea of ​​​​inducing a conflict between the two and solving Shafiq's heart, but watching the deceased who personally promoted him to become a minister and taught him to play power , but he couldn't be happy in his heart.

"Minister Rich, what's the matter with you?"

Nelson noticed that something was wrong with him, and the cold discomfort around him became stronger and stronger. The well-trained Aurors who stood on the periphery couldn't even summon a complete Patronus, and were stripped of their wands and waited to be identified. Almost all of the suspects have been swallowed by the fear brought by the Dementors.

"Call God Guard!"

His brows tightened, and with a wave of his arms, a silver falcon flew out of his sleeve and slammed towards the approaching Dementor. Like a blade, the black mist that tumbled along with the dementors was twisted into pieces of wreckage, and the guards who had long been accustomed to the guardian deity were awakened again by their instinctive fear when they saw this silver falcon. , rushing towards the direction they came from.

The air in the castle soon became less icy, and the Aurors were able to free their hands, forming patches of silver mist to drive out the dementors who didn't obey orders.

Richie felt much better. He raised his head, glanced at Nelson gratefully, sighed, and said, "Such a character will not commit suicide, no matter how downhearted and unbearable he is."

"He will," Nelson said, pursing his lips from Shafik's drooping arm. "Look at his fingernails, there's a sharp blade there, and that's what he killed himself with."

Richie raised Shafiq's arm, and between the nails of his right index finger, a smear of blood-stained cold light came into view. Just looking at the blade deeply inserted into the nail, he felt itchy behind him, what kind of thing? Who would hide the blade in such a place? Isn't he afraid of pain?

Richie squeezed the blade of the blade, endured the discomfort in his heart, and pulled it out, bringing out a few drops of dried blood, Shafik's still warm body twitched instinctively, Richie was startled, the blade It flew out of his hand and stuck at Nelson's feet.

He lowered his head and looked at the blood-covered piece of metal. He could vaguely see that it was not a real blade, but a badge that had been polished so sharply. The silver texture made Nelson think it was the same Guardian as himself. The Order of the Knights Medal, but upon closer inspection, it turned out to be a corner of the Shafiq family crest—this prominent family used to engrave the glorious deeds of previous clansmen on the family badge, and this corner in Shafiq's hands happened to belong to him. my own.

"Justice Shafik will not commit suicide." Rich shook his head firmly.

"But the fact is that he committed suicide," Nelson was a little dissatisfied, co-author I just talked to you for a long time and was talking nonsense? His tone became so polite, "Sir Minister, if you want to watch, I can show you a video."

"No, you don't understand what I mean," Ritchie shook his head, "his life is not only his own, if he dies, we will really have less resistance, and whoever kills him will reap A large number of casts, defecting to the strong, has been the habit of wizards for thousands of years."

"Then congratulations, Mr. Murder Minister."

Nelson really didn't want to stay here any longer, waved his wand, and disappeared in place, leaving a fluttering "It's time to get off work".

…

When Nelson returned to the Nicklaus mansion, he was suddenly exhausted. He had only cleaned the office, laid a net to wrap the Ministry of Magic building, and went on a errand today. More tiring than going through an exam week at Hogwarts.

"Is this what it's like to go to work?" He scratched his head, pushed aside the gardeners under the gaze of his neighbors, and greeted the hard-working alchemists in the garden. Looking at the garden, which was symmetrical and pleasing to the eye, finally Feeling a little better, "But I obviously didn't do anything?"

In the house, Thomson sat reluctantly on the sofa in the living room, surrounded by billowing dust, and a little alchemist waving a broom and mop was cleaning in full swing. He had almost nowhere to go. The alchemist puppet holding the vacuum cleaner passed by his feet and touched Tom's shoe upper with the handle. He responded with a sound, and reluctantly raised his feet to give them their work place.

As the footsteps sounded outside the door getting closer and closer, these little dolls increased their happy speed, the surrounding debris and dust were disappearing at a speed visible to the naked eye, and the floor and furniture became spotless. When turning from the outside, the puppets who happened to finish all the work got back into the corner he couldn't see. Tom could finally put his numb legs down. He wanted to put his feet directly on the table, but looked After seeing the table top clean enough to be used as a mirror, he still put his feet on the ground.

"My God, you're back," Tom raised his head and glanced at Nelson, who pushed the door and was rubbing the soles of his shoes on the floor mat at the door. After seeing Nelson's hands empty, he curled his lips in disappointment. "The surrounding has changed so much. I haven't been to London for a year, and the surrounding restaurants, shops, etc. are gone. It's outrageous, you know? Mrs Cole used to take us to eat when she rewarded children with good grades. The hot dog shop became a fabric shop selling flannel, and there wasn’t a place for miles around where you could sit down and eat.”

"This place has suffered the least bombing before, so the ground rent has increased more or less after the war," Nelson said, standing there, looking at the clean and tidy house, with a satisfied smile, "so those shops with low profits It can’t go on, but some high-profit businesses have broken their heads and want to set up a shop here. Many people think that this place can bring good luck to their business.”

"Seriously?" Tom found it difficult to understand, "Can the surrounding residents afford the goods in those stores? Antique goldware, gemstone jewelry, none of them can be used, except for this row in our neighborhood. Immigrants fleeing from France, there is only an orphanage and a church left, who will buy those things? At least leave a restaurant for us to eat."

"As you said, everyone's conditions are not good, who would go out to fight tooth sacrifices?" Nelson blinked, "Have you not eaten all day today?"

He took off his coat and hung it on the hanger by the door. He used the feather duster on the side to lift the ash from Azkaban on the hem of the coat. Small blue flames came out and went out, burning the dirty dust to ashes. After doing this, he took off the soft felt hat above his head, buttoned it on his coat, and walked to the kitchen.

"Of course not, I won't starve myself to death, didn't you leave me some breakfast in the morning? I slept until noon and ate it," Tom yawned, looking like he didn't wake up , he tilted his head and shouted in the direction of the kitchen, "Have you finally found your conscience and are ready to cook for me?"

"Bang! Zi..."

The popping sound of the cork and the bursting of the bubbles sounded in the kitchen. Not long after, Nelson walked back to the living room with a bottle of Butterbeer soaked in water droplets and was bubbling cold, looked at Tom with a strange look, and said: : "I don't believe you didn't eat dinner."

"Oh, I'm so disappointed, Nal," Tom shook his head, accusing Nelson in a grandiose tone, raising his arms under his head, leaning on the back of the sofa, and said lightly, "I wanted to go to the opposite corner. Alley dealt with it, but just in the afternoon, Dumbledore sent an owl with a message."

"What? You ate it?" Nelson put a sip of Butterbeer on the clearing of the coffee table and sat down in a comfortable position, "When did your taste become like Nagini's? unique?"

"What nonsense are you talking about?" Tom shook his head, "I gave him a few Galleons and he went to Diagon Alley and ordered a meal for me while we were with Minerva Flitwick and the others. The restaurant where I ate... didn't you even bring me a bottle of Butterbeer? I thought you wouldn't watch me die of thirst here. After a day at the Ministry of Magic, did you become such a philistine? "

"I suggest you trick another owl into sucking blood," Nelson rolled his eyes, raised his hand and snapped his fingers. A mayfly buzzed out of his pocket, hanging a bottle he bought from Diagonal Lane. The unlimited refill of Coke that came, threw it into Tom's arms, "I brought this for you."

"Oh! I like this stuff." Tom also began to drink "tons and tons".

"By the way, what message did Professor Dumbledore bring?"

Tom lowered his head, rummaging on the messy table, and soon found a crumpled piece of paper, and said: "He said Alphard was injured a little, and he was sent to St. Mungo's, let us be free Go see him...it won't hurt badly, will it? I see he vomited several mouthfuls of blood."

"Uh..." Nelson didn't know how to answer him for a while.

"What's the matter?" Tom raised his eyebrows. "Did you take time to see him? He's not in a bad situation, is he?"

"Now...it should be pretty bad," Nelson recalled the look on Bolox's face when he walked into the ward, and shook his head, "It should have been fine at first, I remember being able to brag about my glorious experience with his fellow patients, But when Mr Black came in I couldn't hear anything from the ward."

"Oh, that's all right," Tom closed his eyes and continued to doze off. "He really, will die on this mouth sooner or later."

"I think so too."

"How's life at the Ministry of Magic?" Tom asked curiously, putting away the bottle after a while of Coke. "Did anyone bribe you?"

"Unfortunately, no," Nelson shook his head, crossed Erlang's legs, picked up the newspaper on the table and read, "No one dares or can approach the Department of Mysteries, let alone find and bribe me. already."

"That's a pity." Tom didn't say it, he really regretted it. "I used to think that you would start with a position like the secretary of the minister. You can get the moon first, you know."

"Fortunately," Nelson finished scanning the lace news of the first edition of "Witches vs. Minotaur" and turned to the next edition, "I am also enjoying my leisure, which office is no different from a real secret room, I have already Eyeliner to monitor the Ministry of Magic has been laid, and a lot can be done there in the future."

"Why don't you let those who are loyal to you do it?" Tom asked. "Umbridge told me before that there are many people in the Ministry who popped up a few years ago, and she wants to find them. The evidence was taken to take credit, but there has been no progress, I guess it is either the wizard of Nurmengard, or someone from your side."

"They're not fit to do these things," Nelson said, shaking his head. "If the Ministry of Magic can detect them, they won't be afraid of them doing things. That building is not a paradise occupied by fools, at least the one with most of the power. People are not fools, even if it is me, there are always people paying attention.”

"I seriously doubt your thinking," Tom snorted disdainfully. "Tsk, are you overestimating their abilities."

“It never hurts to be careful,” Nelson finally found a useful piece of news in the corner of the second edition—“Hogwarts Board of Trustees Claims to Expand Coverage of Access Book,” and this The discovered surveillance is not the most perfect concealment, not to mention... In their view, our cause is noble, and this kind of shameful thing should be left to the magic without soul."

"I really don't understand why you always like to intrigue with people. It always gives me a feeling of fighting wits and courage with the air. Even I have been influenced by you, and now I have even begun to expand my social circle," Tom spread his hands, "If I were you, I might have captured the Ministry of Magic long ago."

"What I want to do is not to subvert the world. Anyone who doesn't conflict with me can become allies. On weekends, we can go shopping in the inclined side alley," Nelson said. "You When the time comes, we will know that most people’s interests are not in conflict.”

"It just so happens that Hogwarts is on vacation."

…

"Oh, by the way, I didn't tell you something."

As twilight began to rise, Nelson stuck his head out of the ding ding ding bang and said to Tom in the living room.

"What's the matter."

"Shafiq is dead."

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