My Classmate at Hogwarts is Voldemort

"Peeves, what are you doing sneaking around there?"

Professor Binns floated quietly beside an empty bookshelf in the depths of the library, holding a note he had opened for himself and a book he had just taken from the bookshelf, and his eyes swept over the poor history of magic books. the spine of the book, and asked without looking back, "Is there anything looking for me?"

There was a pungent musty smell in the library, but Professor Binns didn't care about it. He couldn't smell it. The gray gauze curtains made the sunlight look like dried oranges. The orange, through his translucent milky white body, dyed him the same color, and made the cold Professor Binns feel warm.

The noise of the chain on the gate being brought to the ground echoed in the library, through the slightly open door, squeezed into the corridors of the castle, wandered about the empty corridors, shuttled through the lush oak Among the parasitic leaves, the doors of the four academies were knocked on, but there was no response, so they had to return to the place where it was born.

The only professor who is still in the school is Binns Cuthbert, but he doesn't care about this kind of loneliness. On the contrary, he enjoys it, and enjoys looking through these hundreds of years. It hasn't changed He had the familiar illusion in his history textbook, as if he was chatting and drinking with his old friends who were still alive. For this reason, he even gave up the bad habit of talking to himself.

"Bings, what are you looking at?" Peeves let out a groaning giggle, turned into a cartoon tornado and flew to Professor Bins's side, snatching the books in his hand. The words and funny faces made a face and said, "Lord Peeves seriously suspects that you have colluded with the dark wizards outside the school, so he specially came to stare at you to prevent you from destroying the home of Lord Peeves."

"Do you have any ideas? Peeves, if you have nothing to do, please leave."

"Of course I have something to do, Binns, Lord Peeves has been staring at you for a long time. In the past, when you were on vacation, you only came to the library once a week, and left with the books that only you read, and it was over in the second week. Bring them back," said Peeves, pulling himself into a stick of noodles, wrapping himself around Professor Binns in circles, and winking with the book hidden behind his back, "but this year you come every morning at five o'clock and night Leaving at ten o'clock, without lightning, and without reading, Lord Peeves suspects that you have some hidden secrets."

"That's it," Professor Binns shook his head helplessly. He saw the loneliness in Peeves' eyes and sighed, "It looks like you're more boring than me, Peeves."

"No bad boys and silly girls let Lord Peeves play tricks," Peeves threw the book into the air, pinched his nose and held his breath, and in a second he became a bulging balloon , he stuck out his tongue, let go of the hand holding his nose, the balloon deflated, and he also flew into the air, "Lord Peeves is meaningless to patrol his own territory."

"I think the **** Barrow may have reservations about his status as a fief," Professor Binns raised his arm, and the book that almost fell to the ground returned to his hands, and he patted the back cover lovingly He was covered in ash and hung his hand on top of Peeves' head. Although the ghost couldn't touch the castle elf, he still touched his head and said in a tone of teaching lower grade students, "This is It's the history of the Goblin Rebellion, if you're interested, I can tell you about it this holiday season, and you'll love this history."

He lowered his head, turned the book in his hand to the front, and was about to wipe the dust on it, but the moment he saw the title of the book, he seemed to be glared at by a basilisk, and he stayed in place like petrified.

"Lord Peeves isn't interested in any kind of history," Peeves burrowed in and out of the bookshelf, glanced at the cover of the book, and exclaimed in a pretentious manner, "Don't think that Lord Peeves is illiterate! Wow hahaha , old muddlehead, old muddlehead, muddleheaded Binns can't remember what book he just read!"

His cry woke up the entire castle, the birds and insects at dawn sounded from the direction of the Forbidden Forest, and he slammed out of the library window, shouting and repeating the lame song he just made up, wanting to Tell everyone who can hear the good news.

But after a while, he came back with a drooping face in frustration. There was no student or living professor in the castle, and the ghosts ignored him. His chin that couldn't close was dragged on the ground, squirming like a rice worm. Beside Professor Binns, he said faintly: "Actually, this is the codebook you communicated with those outlaws, Binns, you were still caught by Lord Peeves."

Professor Binns ignored him, his already old hands trembled even more, and the short text on the cover became more and more blurred in his presbyopic eyes, it was simply an ugly ink stain.

Peeves was even more frustrated when he saw Binns sticking to him, but he quickly adjusted his mind and entangled Binns again, forgetting the nickname "Master", and said excitedly: " Binns, tell me those Who is it, how about we blow up this **** school together? Or keep two broods of cockroaches in the headmaster's office and surprise Dumbledore when he comes back."

Professor Binns still ignored him, reaching for the page with trembling hands, trying to turn it over, but every attempt failed.

"Have you had a stroke? Binns?" Peeves asked in amazement. "Can I still have a stroke if I die? Do I need to start preventing strokes? After all, Peeves is getting older..."

Seeing Professor Binns grumbling, he craned his neck and glanced at the cover, and read out its name word by word.

"History of Magic in Ancient Greece: Despicable Hyerbo and the Birth of Dark Magic."

He scratched his head, stretched out his arms, and turned the page: "What is it? Your love letter from when you were a child wouldn't be in it, right?"

The yellowed and brittle footer made a "squeaky" sound when he flipped it roughly. The moment the first page was opened, it was still a yellowed blank page. Professor Binns felt that his long-absent heart was pounding. The ground fell to the ground, and disappointment permeated in all directions from the depths of this lonely wandering soul.

But Peeves' screams brought him back to reality.

"Wow! Write your own book!"

In Professor Binns' translucent milky white eyes, neat lines of words are reflected. Their brushstrokes are extremely ancient, and the colors are too light to distinguish, but the prose and grammar are no different from the current popular English, as if there were a pair of invisible hands. Holding the pen to record on the paper, the old pen smelt of decay, but Professor Binns could synchronously see every stroke, every revision, and every poor drawing technique written on the paper. , he saw a circle of cows surrounded by a fence, and was about to think about what it was, and the picture was erased.

It seems that on the other side of the page, another person is erasing the picture with disgust, and then, a magnificent theater surrounded by dozens of female columns (a relatively thin ancient Greek column, everyone should have seen it) is in It was built in a few strokes, followed by the surrounding quaint city, the green hills in the distance, and the golden temple above the green hills under the sunlight.

This is a wonderful feeling. After a thousand years, a person who died a thousand years ago saw every stroke and real history left by an older era. Compared with ink marks, he felt that the familiar words of these fonts were: Pieces of eraser erased the fog of the pre-Western era that blocked the history-seeking people.

He widened his eyes and stared at each new word carefully. The smiling face of the child appeared on the paper, which made him laugh.

"What are you laughing at? Binns, let Lord Peeves laugh too."

…

The Achaeans lived in the most prosperous city-state in ancient Greece. As the most prosperous among them, Delphi, like the sun **** who lived here, was the favorite child of Zeus and had vast but safe mountains. As a reliance, two rivers on the east and west sides connect the most stable waterway in the Mediterranean Sea, and even tens of thousands of citizens of other city-states give up their status as free men every year, either to avoid disasters, or for pilgrimage, or for They fled here in search of a better life in their understanding, and became the bricks and mortar of the city-state's continuous expansion as a slave.

As early as 600 years before the currently known theater of Herod Atticus was built, an amphitheatre as large as it was already operating in the city-state where Delphi and Isaac handed over, unlike other amphitheaters. The way a theater or building is named after a person or place, it is called the Theater of the Prophet, and this special name comes from a prophet who performed divination here three years before it was built.

Compared with the theater, it is more like a colosseum with one third of it left blank. The pillars that cannot be fully grasped by the three people hug each other and wrap the theater at the same distance and angle. A 240-degree circular staircase The stands allow all the audience to focus on the stage surrounded by the center. The stage play, the choir singing to the gods, and the orator who is eager to get votes, you will sing and we will appear, even if it is a long night or a torrential rain. The buildings located in the center of the city are also always brightly lit.

At noon or at mid-afternoon, the victor of the previous speech (the current consul of the city, his authority lasts until the citizen is persuaded by the new orator to banish him with shards away from the people) The desolate suburban ridge) hired handymen (official citizens of the city-state) would collect and deliver the meals brought to their masters by the slaves who were waiting outside the theater and could not step inside, and delivered them to the hungry audience. Most of these foods were The cakes baked with water and barley mixed with some coarse grains, they only need to pay the price of one amber gold coin a month. The cost of this part of the service is included in the theater's package, and those who do not buy the package can only stand In the aisles or in the stands, watch the show on an empty stomach, or maybe come early for a seat on the twelfth and fourteenth days of each month, which are reserved for speakers.

In the center of the stage is a shabby table with no tablecloth. The only display on the table is a child with wings pulling a bow and arrow. It is hard not to associate it with the **** of love. A red arrow has been fired off the string. , pointing directly at the temple on the top of the mountain in front, another arrow is on the string, it seems to be looking for the next person who should be hit by the arrow.

In such an era when most people are still slaves, their food is not good but bran, their clothing is a piece of flax, and even straw sandals have not been invented, such a city-state is enough to live and work in peace and contentment, except that there is no record in the history books. , it is no different from the ancient Greek city-states in Muggle textbooks.

So when the author came here, I once thought that magic had not been properly developed and utilized at this time, and there was no trace of magic here, no alchemy, no magic medicine, no magical animals, the most powerful animals. They are tigers and lions, the most dangerous people are bandits and robbers, and there are no wizards on the streets, which makes people suspicious. Maybe the wizarding society predates the birth of Muggles, which is a misunderstanding caused by a long time. No one knows, they only know that the radiance of the sun **** blesses them with good weather and long peace.

…

"Bah!"

A soot-stained hand, which seemed to have just climbed out of the chimney, lifted off a cover that was exposed on the ground, and a gray-faced, black-faced young man spat out the mud in his mouth and held on to it. His waist struggled to get out from under the open cover. When he climbed out of the gap, he got stuck and was pushed out by the person below. He lost his balance and rolled around on the ground, lying helplessly on the ground. On the fairly flat dirt road, his chest heaved violently.

After a while, he stood up, walked to the edge of the opening just opened, bent down, and pulled the other person out.

"I said Nal, Muggles know how to wrap their car tires with bananas... ugh! Rubber," Tom spat out a mouthful of sand, took his wand in the big silver ball from Nelson's hand, and quickly He cleaned his instrument with magic and complained, "I know you've always longed for the universe, but please don't turn yourself into a meteorite, okay? I beg you."

"Okay, okay," Nelson waved his hand, shaking the dust on his body. The big silver ball they were riding on had already turned into a **** ball. The queues began to collect materials that were still available. He wiped the sweat from his forehead and read www.uukanshu. Com looked at the surrounding environment, took out the time changer and glanced at it, an uncontrollable smile appeared on the black face, "We are here!"

They fell on the side of a mountain, with a prosperous city-state at their feet and a golden temple on the top of the mountain.

Suddenly, a loud noise came from above, and at the corner of the mountain road, several men with spears dashed out. After seeing the two of them, they shouted with joy and began to babble.

"What are they talking about?"

Tom had already sorted out his image and looked handsome, and he was a thousand miles away from the savages on the mountain. He scratched his ears, patted the ashes on Nelson's back, and asked.

"They said we came in Apollo's carriage, the messengers of the gods... oh no, groom," Nelson said with a funny look on his face, "they said the priestess had foreseen our visit and sent them here ahead of time. Take the envoy back to the temple to convey the will of the gods.”

Tom raised his eyebrows with a "don't lie to me" expression on his face.

"It looks like we're on the right track. I want to see what the goddess who breathes miasma every day can say. She and Haierbo can't tell the difference... tsk," Nelson twisted his neck and chuckled lightly. , turned his head to several soldiers and said in their language, "How can there be a reason for the divine envoy to visit the priest in person? Go tell her and let her come over to pick us up barefoot."

The soldier showed an embarrassed expression.

Nelson kicked the charred wreckage that was exposed on the ground, and said, "The sun carriage had a car accident. For the sake of the sun tomorrow, you should go quickly. If she is really the spokesperson of God, she will not be difficult for you."