My Classmate at Hogwarts is Voldemort Chapter 10

　　 The next morning, Nelson blocked Dumbledore at the door of the restaurant, and he took out an envelope from his arms.

　　 "Professor Dumbledore, this is your letter to me during the holiday."

　　 "Thank you, Mr. Williams." Dumbledore took the envelope, stuffed it into the sleeve of the wizard's robe, and stepped forward to the dining room.

　　 "Professor Dumbledore—" Nelson stopped talking.

　　 "What's the matter?" Dumbledore stopped and looked down at Nelson.

　　 "There is nothing in your envelope, right?"

　　 "Haha." Dumbledore patted Nelson on the shoulder, and did not answer directly, "Let's go, beware of missing the delicious food."

　　 He took the first step and walked to the restaurant. Nelson also quickly went in, found Tom to sit down with him, and began to enjoy his own breakfast.

"Nall, our first class today is the Dean's class. After class, I organized a party for Slytherin freshmen. Are you coming to attend?" Tom poked a fork from Nelson's plate. Small tomatoes.

　　 "No, I'm going to go to the library after class." Nelson shook his head and refused. He maintained good study habits, knowing that books are the ladder of human progress.

　　 "Okay," Tom said dryly, "What is it!"

　　 A big grey owl suddenly threw a package into his arms.

　　 "The "Magic Theory" out of stock during the holidays."

　　 "Why did you throw it here!" Tom looked at the crushed tomatoes in his hand and threw them on the plate in front of him, preparing to put another one on Nelson's plate.

"I left the names of both of us, maybe because your letters are arranged higher?" Nelson saw an owl hovering above his head. He reached for a newspaper and fell into his hands. "You can put I lost that old book during the holidays."

　　 "No need, it—"

"It's the Daily Prophet. Let me see. Dumbledore has been awarded again, and Wiesengamore is considering inviting him to be a standing committee member. Celebrating the 850th anniversary of the founding of the Daily Prophet... Read the news and feel British Under the Ministry of Magic's rule, the country is truly peaceful."

"These media are really disgusting," Tom had already picked up the fourth small tomato, and Nelson brought the plate directly to him. "I thought you knew. You read books every day. You have to understand current affairs. , This helps us to adapt to the world faster... Recently the dark wizards in Europe have become more rampant, and they have even begun to make attacks in Wales. You know, the Muggles are also very nervous these days."

　　 "Yes, there will be a war soon."

　　 "Oh? Really, Chamberlain isn't...it's not important, it has nothing to do with us, mainly the dark wizard, you know, he is really good, Gettler Grindelwald." Tom exclaimed.

Hearing the name, the surroundings suddenly became quiet. Several people looked at them with strange eyes. Nelson heard the name and finally understood that it was not only the Muggle world that was shrouded in the cloud of war, but the wizarding world. There is also an iron curtain of horror that is hard to ignore—the Dark Lord Grindelwald and his saints.

　　 "What does it have to do with us, Hogwarts is the safest place in the world." Nelson said loudly, and the surrounding noise soon recovered.

　　 "That's true, but I think he—" Tom is about to talk, "What is this again!"

　　 An envelope fell from the sky and landed on Tom's head. He grabbed the envelope, looked at the name on it, and threw it on Nelson's desk angrily, "Your letter."

　　 Nelson took the letter, and the envelope was written neatly and smoothly in two lines:

　　 Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry received by Mr. Nelson Wiltning Williams

　　 Jonas Nicklaus

　　Dear Gnar:

long time no see! I just returned from a business trip in Czechoslovakia. The specialty products there are only beer and some bitters. You are not old enough to bring them to you. When you grow up, we can go there together for vacation.

To be honest, the situation here is not optimistic. I feel that the whole of Europe is about to change. When the next interview is over, I am going to ask for leave from the newspaper. I will stay in the UK for two years and stay with your aunt. I originally wanted to take it seriously. After taking care of you for a while, I didn't expect you to have been taken away by a boarding school-it was still a magic school! After becoming friends with your parents before, I once thought that magic was just a joke your father made to me...I never mentioned your father to you before, because I don't know where to start, and I don't know whether to tell Your father is a wizard, and your parents disappeared in a tragedy caused by magic. As far as I'm concerned, I don't want you to touch those things anymore.

　　 But the blood of the wizard seems to contain some fatalistic magic. I have not yet returned to London, you are already going to accept your own destiny.

Your father is a good friend of mine. His name is Mergan Wiltening. We put his surname in the middle of your name. He left you and disappeared eleven years ago. We don't know if he has What an invincible enemy, so just use your mother's Williams as your surname-this is one of the most common surnames in the UK, after all, Wiltening seems to sound like a Nordic family. He is a witty, talkative and charming person, who looks almost exactly the same as you, but he loves to laugh. This is different from you...you have to laugh more in the future. When chatting with him before, he said that he hopes his child will be a brave person. I can't agree. In this era of war and chaos, I hope you can become a wise person.

　　 About your mother, you can go home during the holidays and let your aunt tell you.

As an uncle, I really have not fulfilled the obligations of an elder. I spent most of the time running outside for so many years, and I did not accompany you and your aunt well... But the good news is that even so, you have grown into A good, proud child.

　　Nar, the stories of your predecessors should not be a burden on you. Be the person you want to be. I'm leaving for Poland soon, so I won't say much... If there is anything you want to say, remember to write to me, I remember the wizard's owl can find me. Gnar, it's coming October, remember to wear two more clothes.

　　 I love you Uncle Jonas

　　 September 1, 1938

　　 "Did your uncle go home?" Tom asked beside him.

"Well, we just walked on the front foot, he went home on the back foot." Nelson closed his eyes and raised his head. He thought of his uncle taking himself to eat, drink and have fun and travel around for ten years. In German, I remembered the tie my uncle gave to me for his birthday this year—this tie was longer than Nelson's wand, so he had to put it in a drawer at home. He remembered the little things he had spent with his loved ones over the past ten years.

　　 "Gnar," Tom leaned on his back, "We will be on holiday for Christmas. It just so happens that your birthday is also on New Year's Day. We can go back to London."

　　 "Isn't your birthday also on those days?" Nelson calmed his mind, turned his face, and handed Tom a plate of small tomatoes. "We can spend time together. By the way, do you only eat tomatoes in the morning?"

　　 "This is better." Tom poked another one.

"Welcome to Slytherin!" The image of Horace Slughorn is very different from the walrus-like fat old man in Nelson's memory. Slytherin's first class was taught by their dean to teach potions. Students from other colleges have classes together. The professor was standing on the podium with three lidded crucibles standing on the fire.

"Potions is an ancient, mysterious and extraordinary subject." Professor Slughorn whispered, his tone soothing, but it seemed to be full of magic, affecting the thoughts of every Slytherin student. "Unlike magic spells, most potions do not need to wave your wand or cast any magic during the production process. This makes many people think that it is not part of real magic—but! There are countless potions, which you can hardly imagine. Efficacy-relatively, it requires its creators to have extraordinary knowledge, calm thinking... and unshakable patience."

　　 "Potion is a science that requires a lot of time, energy, and wealth-but even if you pay for it, even if you pay for everything, it will close the door to the untalented!"

　　 "The gain from such a huge price is the greatness of potions. Potions can help you increase your strength, grab wealth, brew glory, and even defeat death."

　　 Bewildering words came from the podium, his voice undulated, and many freshmen have begun to aspire to become a potion master. Nelson noticed that when Professor Slughorn said at the end, Tom next to him also sat upright, and even a red light flashed in his black eyes.

　　 "Is this magic? What a vivid form of expression. UU reading www.uukanshu.com" Nelson complained in his heart.

　　 "Does anyone know what the three pots of potion on my right are? Those who get the right answers can get rewards."

　　 This is difficult for the little snakes next to him. Doesn't anyone really have finished preparing all the textbooks before school starts? No way? No way? They slandered in their hearts.

Professor Slughorn lifted the lids of the two cauldrons. One pot was light orange, giving people a soothing feeling. The potion was bubbling, and the other pot was filled with golden potions, like Looks like the sun makes people feel happy.

　　 "Who can answer?" Tom and Nelson raised their hands.

　　 Slughorn nodded Tom's name, and the handsome black-haired guy looked even more pleasing to his eyes.

　　 "It's cough potion and euphoria, Professor." Tom stood up and answered politely. The surrounding Slytherin students looked at him with admiration, and of course they also showed jealousy or disdain.

"Yes," Slughorn opened the roster in his hand. "Tom Riddle, you are such an excellent student. As a reward, I want to give Slytherin, my own college, ten points! "

　　 Tom bowed slightly and sat down.

　　 "Now, please open the "Magic Potion" in your hands, we officially start the first class!"

　　 The classmates hurriedly flipped through the books, and suddenly a girl with short stature and short hair raised her hand and asked, "What's in the third crucible?"

　　 "Nice question," Slughorn was not angry at being interrupted. He flipped through the roster, "Jessica Ollivander, well, this pot of potion is a surprise."

　　 "I hope that all of you can prepare carefully after class. In next week's class, students who can recognize it will win a special reward."

Chapter end