My Classmate at Hogwarts is Voldemort

Chapter 571: Business trips: start with jail time

When the first rays of sunlight hit Moody's face, he rolled over, and the soft sheets and the different touch of the hard bed in the Hogwarts dormitory made him wake up in an instant.

He snapped his eyes open and reached out to his pockets, but the palm of his hand felt empty. Moody lifted the quilt and was in his pajamas. The coat was neatly folded on the chair beside the bed, and the wand was placed above the clothes. , the curtains have been drawn, and a small white man is holding a foaming sponge to clean the glass.

Moody remembered what happened last night—he ate at Nelson's house and drank the bottle of wine he had brought, which he had almost completely drained by himself, so that he woke up confused in the morning. bewildered.

"Boom! Boom! Boom!"

A neat knock came from outside the house, and Moody jumped out of bed, holding his wand, and walked cautiously to the door with bare feet.

"It's a little urgent today." When Moody opened the door, he saw Nelson holding a tray in one hand and watching the time on the pocket watch with the other. He handed the tray to Moody, put away the pocket watch, and patted it. He patted him on the shoulder and said, "You have ten minutes to wash, eat, and rest. In ten minutes, I will wait for you in the living room."

"But now—"

"Six-fifty," Nelson nodded. "Dark wizards are all day and night. You shouldn't want to yawn and die in honor. At least I didn't drag you to see London at four in the morning."

Leaning less, rubbing his eyes and walking down the stairs with a minty smell in his mouth, he always felt that this was not some serious Auror training, when he yawned and looked at the wall clock that showed seven fifty-nine on the wall. Then, out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of Nelson's back as he pushed open the door and left.

"I'm not late!"

Moody shouted, Sayazi chased after him, and just as he was about to run to the gate, Nelson's voice came from behind him and stopped him: "The time is just right, Moody, seeing you so desperately I'm relieved to go out."

"Ok?"

Moody turned his head, Nelson was sitting neatly on the sofa, exactly the same as when he just went out. He put down the newspaper in his hand, picked up the hot milk on the coffee table, drank the last sip, and picked up the box beside his feet, Stand up.

"Are you kidding?" Moody looked at Nelson suspiciously, and then at the door, "I just saw you go out."

"Absence will be deducted from work," Nelson shrugged, put the soft felt hat on his head, and strode towards the door. Moody chased Nelson and ran out, stepping on the water stain on the ground, almost When he slipped, Nelson supported him and said, "You don't want to see me make Christian eat hay every day because I don't have the money, do you?"

"Of course... No, I thought you just went out."

"You read it wrong."

Nelson shook his head and slapped the wall of the hall with a slap. A cloud of runes that Moody was familiar with lit up at Nelson's call. The sudden strong suction force pulled the door open, and Moody looked intently at the door. The scenery outside became hazy at some point, like a misty water curtain, as if he hadn't woken up yet.

He rubbed his eyes and was pushed out of the door by Nelson before he could ask. , I wrote a letter specifically to Mr. Boggart, and now I can be said to be your temporary guardian, and suggest that you call me uncle on the rest of your journey."

"what--"

Moody's words were torn apart in Apparition.

"My name is Igor Karkaroff, you can call me Uncle Karkaroff," Moody turned his head and saw a dark-haired man with a goatee coming out of a slowly closing water gate. He stroked the beard on his chin, his black fox-like eyes reflected the darker iron bars, and he held a gorgeous black cane, dressed in an out-of-season, hot-looking black suit. Fur, looking at the iron cage that imprisoned them, tutted lightly, "Is this a place that is absolutely safe and impossible to find? Tom, I have to say, you are really a genius."

It was only then that Moody realized the environment he was in. It was a dark cell, the iron bars were covered with rust marks and traces of some unknown liquid, and the air was filled with the smell of rotting rust. He wrinkled his nose, his eyes became serious, it was the smell of blood.

This cell is not big, and the floor is covered with some hay that is also stained with that kind of trace. He remembered what Nelson had just said about "let Christian eat hay without money", and he couldn't help retching, Moody Reaching out his hand to support the wall, the greasy, wet touch made him throw his hand away immediately, and his fingertips touched some jagged nicks. He took a look at the sunlight from the corridor, and the wall was densely carved. Counting symbols — vertical and horizontal, pentagrams, and even words he didn’t recognize — he realized that the cell had sent more than one prisoner from all over the world , do not know if there is a chance to see the sun the day after leaving.

"Is this...Azkaban?"

Moody felt cold all over and couldn't help shivering. He remembered what his boss had frightened him when he was an intern at the Law Enforcement Department - the fear spread by those pleasure-sucking monsters was exactly the same as the current feeling.

He beat himself up, raised his wand, and looked around carefully, but just as the lighting spell was lit, a pale and slack face in the opposite cell was reflected in his drill. lost.

Moody looked behind him for help, wanting to ask for Nelson's help, but he was no longer here, and the water gate on the wall only left a striking water stain that quickly smudged open.

"Azkaban? Heck," the resident in the opposite cell turned out to be an elderly witch, and she gave a vulture-like grin, "British? There aren't those terrifying monsters here, but—"

Moody turned around and pointed his wand firmly at her. The confusion caused by the changing environment had all disappeared. He suppressed the fear in his heart. The wand in his hand gave him great courage. He won't leave himself behind, but before that, he has to face everything here alone.

"—but it's far more terrifying than your Azkaban," chuckled the old witch, licking her long filthy nails, and staring longingly at the wand in his hand, "Young man, You'll soon be praying you're in Azkaban unless—"

"Unless what?"

"Unless you give her the wand," a weak male voice came from the cell beside him, and a beast-like roar could be heard faintly in his throat, "Of course I don't think you're so stupid to be here. The people who come, at least don't do the stupid thing of easily handing the wand to others."

The movement here awakened the other prisoners in the cell, shouting and shouting in various languages, but without the wand, this group of people couldn't do anything.

Moody was distracted by the noise, so he closed his eyes and lowered the surrounding volume with the earplug listening spell that Tom had taught him.

"Squeak—"

The gate at the end of the corridor was raised, and two figures walked in side by side, interrupting the prisoners' carnival. Moody, who was sitting on top of the hay, raised his head and his eyes slowly lit up.

"Yes, that's my nephew, he's a good guy." The greasy and hoarse German sounded at the end of the corridor, "He was just ignorant and annoyed the gangsters patrolling the street."

"Can a good guy come here?" The brutish man beside him hummed and said, "Can a good guy be your nephew?"

"For us, he's a good guy. Those good kids can't even survive here."

"Haha, of course, survival of the fittest," the brutish man's footsteps were accompanied by the sound of dense shackles, as if there were hundreds of handcuffs hanging on his body, and those prisoners who were just irritable and perverse were hearing his voice. He was as well-behaved as a little white rabbit. He seemed to be very proud of what the other person said. He laughed and said, "What's his name? What is Karkaroff?"

"That's my nephew, of course," Nelson's voice got closer and closer, and Moody could tell that he was talking to a jailer or warden or something. Karloff, I just don't know if letting him go will cause you trouble."

"No, there are generally fewer people here. Whether it's a prison break or death, or death on the way to escape, our approach is to go to the street and arrest anyone, anyway, as long as you make sure that the big guys come to pick people up in the cell. It would be nice to have a guy who can breathe," said the brutish man, "and moreover, even if it is trouble, with Mr. Karkaroff's sincerity, such trouble is not trouble, is it?"

"That's good."

"Cell thirteen... let me think about it," the brutish man thought as he walked closer, "I remember there lived a smuggler named Shanjian there last week... ugh, that name is really hard. Nian, that guy killed himself last week by rowing his stomach, and blood splattered all over the room, I hope your nephew is getting used to living there."

The two finally walked to the door of Cell 13, where Moody was located. The light of the lighting spell illuminated his face. Moody raised his head. As he had guessed, the wizard was full of shackles around his waist, one by one, and dragged out far away, and Moody looked away from his face, gave Nelson a grudge, and stood up.

"Very good, very energetic, you're right, he's a good boy," the man squeezed out a more sinister smile than intimidation out of kindness, and opened the door of the cell, "Come out, your uncle is here to pick you up ."

……

"Why don't you just rush out?" Breathing in the fresh air, Moody took a few sips while holding the water bottle hanging around his waist, wiped his mouth, and asked, "There's only one jailer there, and none of the prisoners have wands. , the two of us should be able to fight easily."

"That would be rude and troublesome," Nelson explained patiently. "If you were an Auror and you were going to search some heavily fortified stronghold, would you choose to enter it? Unless you were sincere to the people inside. I have left the opportunity to destroy the evidence. I go fishing for you in this way. On the one hand, I can save a lot of trouble. By the way, I can let you feel what it is like to be among the dark wizards. On the other hand, this warden has become a confirmation. The first important witness to our identity."

"Oh……"

"If I were you, I'd like to take a piece of paper and write down what I just said, sometimes it's more efficient to sneak in and disguise than to go in," Nelson raised his arm and pulled Moody aside with his cane. , avoiding a carriage that was rushing and whistling, "One more thing, you have to look at the road when you walk."

Moody raised his head, at the moment they are in a bustling street, the street is full of pedestrians, but most of them are in a hurry, and there is almost no desire to communicate with passers-by, Moody is very happy. Less shopping, but also aware of the wrong atmosphere on this street.

He noticed that people here dressed in different looks and looked like they were from different countries around the world. The most spoken language on the street was German, which he was not very proficient in. In addition, while people on the street were watching passers-by, He was whispering in a language he didn't understand.

Moody was keenly aware that on the huge street, most people actually had wands, and they put their hands where they could easily reach the wands. They all looked like battle-hardened Aurors. The "smell of black magic" that he hated was slowly drifting down the street.

"Ta! Ta! Ta!"

The hurried hooves got farther and farther, and Moody looked up at the carriage that had just nearly hit him. It was turning, an old hand was slowly pulling the curtains on the carriage, and an old man's face was seen from behind the window. Exposed, looking at "Igor Karkaroff" walking down the street across the bustling crowd, Nelson raised the corners of his mouth and ran his index and middle fingers across his throat.

Moody's expression was even more shocked. He noticed that the old man had a strange blue eye. It seemed to have an independent consciousness. While looking at Nelson, the blue eye turned to one side and stared at him. Moody only felt a tingling pain in his temples, and he closed his eyes forcefully as the memory of not long ago was about to emerge.

It wasn't until Nelson put his hand on Moody's soaked shoulder that he opened his eyes, panting. Nelson was holding up the cane, blocking it from Moody's face. He patted Moody's shoulder and nodded. Said: "The brain defense technique is not bad."

"That is--"

"You should have seen him, or heard of him," Nelson said, narrowing his eyes, looking at the street corner where the carriage disappeared~www.readwn.com~, "The biggest black magic dealer in Knockturn Alley, a man who loves tomb raiders or The madman who murdered and then created the Inferi in the basement, it stands to reason that he just passed away in Azkaban last month, and now that I think about it, the wizarding prisons all over the world should follow the same set of rules."

"Borkin Burke..."

"That's right," Nelson nodded, "let's go, get me a carriage first, it's not good enough."

……

"Why don't you make two seats?"

Moody was driving a horse-drawn carriage on the dirt road in the suburbs. He said that he was driving. He didn't need much operation. Not long ago, he watched Nelson pinched this car out of water by a creek. The carriage, and even the two horses driving it, were made of water, and this shock lasted until he began to wonder why he would crouch on a horse as a coachman.

Moody lifted the beaded curtain behind him and looked at Nelson holding a cane as if holding a sword and closing his eyes.

After hearing Moody's question, Nelson suddenly opened his eyes, stretched out his cane and pointed out the window, and several followers floated up like this.

They fell to the ground quickly, and Nelson's answer reached Moody's ears.

"Because I only have one butt."

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