My Classmate at Hogwarts is Voldemort

"Is this... a radio? It's a trendy thing."

In front of Christian's hospital bed, old Tom was holding a popular book "The Bridge over the Drina River". Since Tom left, the atmosphere in the ward has become eccentric, and Christian is always in a state of half-dreaming , Old Tom knew at a glance that this silly girl was pretending to be asleep.

The book had been open for a long time, but the Slavic's word order made his head so big that between the time of dinner and the twilight, only two pages of this story, which is said to have spanned more than 400 years, had passed.

As a father, leaving may be the most polite choice at the moment, but Christian has to be watched by his side, and old Tom has to face an embarrassing fact that he has nowhere to go.

Christian's eyes opened secretly from time to time. Even though he was spotted by Old Tom every time, he just pretended not to see, his wrinkled eyelids were drooping, the words on the pages were always difficult to focus in his pupils, and he shook his head. , trying to find an excuse to go out for a walk, so he put on his coat, walked to the window and touched the potted plant left by Tom, just as he was about to leave, Nelson's voice drifted far from the street in the distance, covering the hall downstairs. The sound of quarrels coming into the house through the window.

Old Tom was interested. Standing by the window, he stared blankly at the church hospital downstairs. A patient who was placed at the door had long since died on the stretcher, but the people who were arguing didn't seem to pay attention. Until his death, they were still arguing over the dogma of their beliefs. The chatter of the car was automatically filtered into white noise by old Tom. He pulled the curtains up a little, leaving only a small gap for himself to stand. So as not to wake up Christian who is pretending to be asleep.

"Nelson Wilttening Williams..."

Old Tom's mouth slowly spit out Nelson's name. He remembered this Tom's friend. In the contact with the school teacher, he learned that many of Tom's preferences were inquired from this Nelson, although he did not know what happened. , but he listened attentively to Nelson's words, and the story told through Nelson's mouth was fittingly linked to what he had read in The Quibbler.

If you choose a person who likes magic the most in this world, there will be a lot of controversy, but if you choose a person who hates magic the most, then Old Tom will definitely be at the top. That ugly and vicious old witch is ruined!" Because of his handsomeness, he was forced to taste a life that did not belong to him under the bewilderment of the potion. The daughter of a family in Hangleton who hates dogs and dislikes others, is it because she knows how to use it? That **** magic, can destroy a person's life at will?

Old Tom remembered that many years ago, when he was still tormented by the unbearable memory, a swashbuckling old woman told him: "You will experience an Oedipal tragedy in your prime Kill your son with his own hands, and your bones will be his key to greatness."

It's funny, old Tom scoffs at it, the prime of life? He had never experienced that thing before, the potion that the **** woman had poured down for him had destroyed his body and spirit long ago, who would have thought that the respected squire, Mr. Tom Riddle, was a frail, What about the mentally sensitive grumpy old man? That's right, before he met that woman, he was still a young man in full bloom, but when he returned home with his wrecked body that had been corroded by the poison that penetrated into the bone marrow, he had already skipped his prime and half of it. Body in the ground!

He tried his best to oppose everything related to magic, and he also turned a blind eye to the Gaunt family on the opposite hill. He just wanted to break free from the dream of visiting every night. The care of his engagement wife made him have some people's warmth again. But the loss of Laura Riddle was the last straw that broke him.

He spent an unknown number of years in a daze. The death of his wife made his blood colder and colder. He could only devote all his energy to the work of making the Riddle family's ancestral property even bigger. The Riddle family has also become a wealthy family in the UK under his profligate work, but he does not know what it means to be busy. People will always die, but who can inherit such a huge family property?

Until one day, someone told him that a young man exactly like him appeared on the front page of a Paris newspaper.

His dusty memories for many years were finally revived. The vicious woman was long dead, but she and her child were still alive, and, more like him, more like Tom Riddle.

For a moment, old Tom felt that he was much older. He instructed the steward to prepare the ticket, and published a newspaper to look for Gellert Grindelwald. Even if there was only one in ten thousand hope, he would not let the surname Riddle be cut off. It has become his only thought after losing Lola.

But why, this boy who is almost the same as when he was young, why is a wizard?

He was wearing the skin that belonged to the Riddle family, but the dirty blood of that woman was flowing in his veins. The wizard destroyed his life, should he still inherit his family business?

This is so ironic.

The first time we met was unhappy, the funny thing was that the boy not only had the exact same appearance as himself, but also the exact same name as himself - Tom Riddle, what was even more ridiculous was that he had a huge family business with the Riddle family. Disdainful, it seems that to the wizard, everything old Tom except the handsome skin of his youth is low. He does not want to believe it, but it is the truth. The housekeeper persuades him to mend the relationship between father and son, but the two are equally proud and Vulnerable people can't wait for a party to bow their heads. Tom didn't take a dime from the house. He only borrowed an underground warehouse to store the medicinal materials that were very important to his friends. He even paid the housekeeper rent.

Old Tom felt like his life was just a bunch of crunches, and after confirming that Tom had no interest in his family's possessions, Laura came back to him.

He was ecstatic, even though many had said that it was the daughter of a liar who might be trying to get rid of Riddle's fortune, more likely that she was a lost orphan about the same age as Laura, who didn't have the same kind of possessions Tom did. She has the same appearance as old Tom, but only has the same sharp temperament as Tom, but old Tom believes that she is his daughter.

Maybe he's gone mad because he misses his daughter, a lot of people say, but old Tom doesn't care, but the next news really drives him mad - Christian is a wizard too.

Didn't Marvolo, who died a few years ago, say when he was drunk that it is impossible for a million generations of Muggles like him to have access to noble magic? Old Tom didn't think there was anything noble in magic, he only thought it was the devil's curse, but why did this terrible curse come to the daughter he missed the most? He didn't understand and didn't want to believe it, but it was the same as Tom despised his stinky money before, but it was the truth.

The only two times he's intervened in Christian's life as a "father" is when she's bewitched by some scheming professor to dig the secret passages of that **** wizarding school, and now, when he hurriedly follows the nasty When the wizard drilled the stove to London and even forgot his wallet, he saw Christian lying in a hospital bed, not knowing whether he was alive or dead.

It's just that Old Tom didn't get angry this time, and he didn't choose to resist. He had dealt with magic for half his life. He understood that it was a ghost that followed him everywhere, and it was a helpless curse.

It was the gulf that turned the glamorous Riddle House into a tragic estate.

Sometimes he wondered if, had he not met Merope Gaunt, when eleven-year-old Laura received an offer to Hogwarts, he would have been like all the other parents of Muggle-born children. Uneasy, yet ecstatic?

It's a pity that fate filled in the background of tragedy from the moment Merope saw Old Tom's face.

He stared at the brightly lit London, looking at the lights lit up by Nelson's "broadcast", looking at the people who walked out of their homes, bewildered by the sudden upheaval, and opened the windows.

The cold wind at night froze him, and his knowledgeable brain began to turn as before. The old goddess's "prophecy" was still in his ears, but he felt as if he had found the skipped paragraph. A prosperous year.

"Would my story be very different if I were a wizard too?"

Old Tom felt his heart pounding like he did when he was young. He saw the same urge in the faces of those who heard the "radio". Nelson's description was vague and more like the devil. bewitched.

But so what? His life has already been messed up by the devil's curse, is there a lower valley than despair? Even in the abyss, it's just like that.

The old, sickly face was sticking out of the window, and the Muggles on the street suddenly noticed that a window suddenly appeared on the roof of the Qingba Department Store, which had been renovated all the year round, and an old middle-aged man stuck his head out. Come, look sharply in the direction of the source of the voice that echoes in London.

The door of Christian's ward was suddenly opened from the outside, and St Mungo's staff noticed that someone had pushed open the window, which was likely to reveal the existence of the hospital, but they hadn't had time to shout to old Tom, who was lying on the hospital bed. The girl who had been sleeping for several days suddenly jumped down, blocking them and the visitors.

Old Tom took a deep breath. His shriveled lungs hadn't taken in so much cold air for many years. He felt the pain in his chest as if a thousand knives were churning, but the pain was thrown out of his head. Then he shouted his name, as Nelson had said in his shout:

"Nelson Wirtning Williams!"

The whole block was silent for a moment, as if time were about to freeze. The pedestrians who ran out of their homes and the believers across the street who were still pulling with the church hospital raised their heads at the same time and looked at the floating window above the department store.

They stopped breathing almost at the same time, and no one knew what would happen if they did what the "broadcast" said.

In the next second, the thin cloud layer was penetrated by a thin beam of light, and people looked up. A meteor that was as fast as thunder was dragging a straight tail flame, hitting the direction of Old Tom straight, through the penetrated cloud layer, They seemed to see a flashing eye.

Is it God?

No, it does not have the majesty of God, but it has a touch of spiritual joy.

The meteor fell, people's eyes were blinded by the strong light, was the little old man who shouted to death? With such doubts, they opened their eyes, and a scene that was once unimaginable was reflected in their eyes—

Old Tom lowered his head and looked at the strange ornaments on his wrist. A desire he had never felt came to his heart. He seemed to have a brand new organ and gained a brand new experience. The delicate machine hovered in front of him, and there seemed to be an ignorant agility hidden in the one-eyed flashing red light.

He stretched out his hand, the mayfly folded its flapping wings and landed lightly in his hand, the straight torso quickly extended, the metal elytra clinging to the sides of the body, like two cloud-like patterns, after a while, a tip The thin stick, glowing red, lay quietly in his hand.

Old Tom felt the metal ornament on his wrist pulling his arm, and he clenched his fists, like those wizards holding wands he saw, pinching the thin stick formed by the mayfly, the end of the handle felt rough and even more Like those mechanical buttons he'd seen in the factory at home.

The belly of the fingers gently brushed these uneven lines, and the missionary pulled his wrist and waved the corresponding gesture. The metal wand exuded a scorching temperature, and the fine vibrations were transmitted to his finger bones, arms and neck. ear.

"Wingardim Leviosa."

The tip of the staff pointed to the sign of a cross wrapped around a snake in the church hospital across the street. The huge signboard trembled. As the tip of the staff was provoked, the cross with aging solder joints fell down and floated tremblingly into the air.

A few more meteors fell from the clouds and fell to various blocks in London. An earthquake almost occurred in Old Tom's pupils. He couldn't believe that this privilege, which belonged to magic, was actually performed in his hands.

"Hey! Are you a wizard?!"

A half-sized boy dressed in rebellion raised his head and shouted at Old Tom.

"No," Old Tom shook his head, his voice paradoxically mixed with certainty and doubt, "I'm just like you, a...what? Yes, a Muggle."

The wrist trembled, the metal wand fell weakly, and the sign of the cross slammed down and slammed into the only open space left at the entrance of the church hospital. Beside the stretcher, the bloodless deceased looks like a martyr in a biblical story.

The shiny cross lit up, and just when the believers thought it was a miracle, more people discovered that it turned out to be a reflection of the bright night sky.

The dense light spots fell from the sky like a meteor shower, the thin clouds were shattered, and the light spots fell from the bright night sky to the main trunks and corners of the city.

7017k