My Classmate at Hogwarts is Voldemort Chapter 191

"So their family wants to go to Grindelwald?"

　　 In the history of magic, Tom approached Nelson and asked in a low voice.

"Yeah, so I gave her a contact information, you can find a contact person in Newmondgard in London." Nelson shrugged, taking notes, and said, "According to her, there are people who have this idea. But not only their family, but also many families have the same idea."

"Oh roar?" Tom raised his eyebrows, turned his head in excitement, and approached. "Did you know? For the past three years, Dumbledore has been telling me that people like Grindelwald and his thoughts are not worth worrying about. , Because only love is the eternal topic of mankind."

　　 "What he said is correct." Nelson nodded, "After all, love can be said to be one of the few characteristics of humans that can be distinguished from animals."

"Don't you hate it? A cat hates another cat that stole it and hides a mouse? Isn't it greedy? A wild dog just thinks of being full when it is not full, but when it Become a domestic dog, you can eat enough, it will only lie on the ground all day long in the sun, of course, for some lazy people, they are not much different from a dog in this respect." Tom said playfully, "any emotions It is enough to distinguish between humans and those ignorant animals, and Dumbledore, who blindly exalts love, seems to me no different from a hypocrite. Although I have fallen asleep in the history of magic, I still understand some history, conflicts and Fission is the eternal topic of mankind."

　　 Nelson took his attention away from the notes. He looked at Tom with a surprised expression, and then with a playful smile, making Tom feel silly.

"That's enough for Dumbledore to drink one more pot anyway," Tom smiled. "I can't wait to see how he looks when he learns that there have been so many pure-blood families in England. Oh, yes, he is not. Minister of Magic, this has nothing to do with him."

"Indeed," Nelson raised his head and glanced at the blackboard. Then he wrote and drew in his notebook. Against the background of the snoring, the two sober people looked very abrupt. "He's not the Minister of Magic, so why bother? What about these?"

"Yes, he is really self-righteous. In my opinion, if Grindelwald wins, it would be better for us," Tom said angrily. "I went to Professor Slughorn once in three years. He's office is closed tightly. It's optimistic that he is begging a fat-headed school manager for the potion subsidy for the new class of students. In my opinion, that guy is no different from a dumb gun, and even not as good as a Muggle, if Grindelwald It can gain power, and from his point of view, this situation will be greatly improved."

Tom patted the table angrily and awakened the two Gryffindors at the front table who were replenishing their sleep. This class was given by Gryffindor and Slytherin, not like Ravenclaw's history of magic. No one is sober.

"But Dumbledore may have too many things, and there may be too many people who need him to save." Tom added in a low voice, again as if he was mocking, and as if he was teaching himself for the teacher who had been teaching him for three years. drag.

"I didn't expect the name of a fairy to be so long," Nelson wrote down in his notebook a name that was about fifteen centimeters in length in a text he had never seen before. "Reading the name of a fairy can tell you his family's name. The ancestors and the relatives from four generations up...I thought the fairies should have cute names, such as bottle caps and pull tabs."

　　 "Do you really dare to give it?" Tom wasn't interested in the name of the goblin, and asked, "Aren't you afraid of something? As an Englishman, this kind of behavior belongs to the enemy."

"Will you report me?" Nelson pouted and asked, "The Black family will not be anymore. I ask Walburga to tell her family. I will only give them the contact information of the family. I'm fine—they should understand what I'm trying to express."

　　 "Interesting." Tom groaned.

"By the way, I will ask Professor Bins for something after class is over." Nelson turned his notes to a new page. As a ghost, Professor Bins did not feel dry, so every class There are always an unusually large number of notes, but the number of notes has nothing to do with most of the students. While he is struggling to write, he says, "Are you okay? If you are okay, you can wait for me for a while. If you have something, you can go. Right."

　　 "Okay." Tom nodded, closed his eyelids, fell asleep, slapped his lips and said, "What can I do?"

After the get out of class bell rang, Professor Bins stopped the class as always. This class was no different from the one at the same time last year. Even the last word was stuck in the same position. He was satisfied with his rigor. Floating over to the door. Although it has been many years since he became a ghost, Professor Bins still maintains some of his habits when he was a wizard. For example, even though he turned to face the blackboard and floated directly to his office, he still chose to walk through the door. This will make him feel like he is observing some customary rules and thus appears like a living person.

Professor Bins stopped, turned his head to look at the drowsy student under the podium, and sighed softly. Although the "sigh" action no longer made him spit out carbon dioxide, it was still an expression of emotion. It's a good way to not even wake them up with the bell after class. How can your boring class attract them?

His gaze crossed the front row of the classroom, and fell on Nelson, who was putting his notes down and packing his schoolbag, and nodded with relief. He could see that this student had a heartfelt enthusiasm for the history of magic, and the other few in the school. Unlike an equally serious student, his passion for the history of magic seems to come from a genuine interest.

Nelson fastened his backpack, raised his head, and met Professor Bins's surprised eyes. He walked to the edge of the podium and said to Professor Bins, “Hello Professor, I have some questions to ask you, do you have time? ?"

"Ah? Ask a question?" Professor Bins opened his mouth and his expression became more and more surprised. "Ask a question" hasn't happened in his class for hundreds of years. He raised his arm and scratched his head, although he didn't know. What's the use of the non-itchy ghost scratching his head, but this action calmed him down, "Oh, come on, come to the office with me."

　　 As he said, he floated towards the door of the classroom and went straight through. Nelson followed behind and shook his head with a smile, unscrewed the door and followed out. He has always been puzzled-why can Professor Bins turn the book but not open the door?

　　Professor Bins' office is next door to the History of Magic classroom. Nelson walked into the corridor and saw Professor Bins pointing at the wooden door of the office and said, “The door is unlocked, open it yourself and come in.”

Nelson walked and unscrewed the door and approached the office. The heavy curtains were tightly drawn. A few candles glowed faintly in the sconces on the wall. There was a pair of burnt charcoal in the fireplace, which seemed to be hundreds of years ago. Extinguished.

This office is full of age. The furniture is old. One wall is wrapped by a tall bookshelf, and the opposite wall is an equally tall showcase that is tightly shielded, and the cabinet is full of old wine. There are also some ornaments that are full of age—some medieval toys, a few small portraits of women, and a specimen of a bat—these things should be in the collection of Professor Bins during his lifetime.

　　 "Tom must like this office very much." Nelson thought for no reason.

　　 "Sit down," Professor Bins seemed to have not been in the office for a long time, he said awkwardly, "Don't worry, the house elves in the castle will come to clean every day."

　　 "Thank you, Professor." Nelson put his schoolbag on the bench by the door and rummaged in it.

"Uh... do you drink? If you want to drink, you can take it from my cupboard by yourself. If you don't have a cup, you can drink to the bottle. I mean, these wines are the last remaining collection before I die, if you If you like it, you can also bring a bottle back." Professor Bins has a natural affection for Nelson. The image of this beautiful smile is very different from that in class. "Sit as you like."

"Professor," Nelson took out a small silver hoop from his schoolbag with a red cross medal inlaid on it. The moment he saw the medal, Professor Bins's expression changed, and his translucent body produced a change. The sudden violent fluctuations became more and more transparent. Nelson was a little afraid that Professor Binns would disappear, so he immediately clenched his fists, grabbed the silver hoop like a ring, and said nervously, "I'm from Slytherin. Student, Nelson—"

　　 "I know you, Nelson." Professor Bins stopped the fluctuations, put away the crampedness of being visited by the students, and said seriously.

　　 "Do you know? That's really an honor." Nelson grinned, and it is an honor in a sense to be remembered by someone who "lived" and didn't know how long.

"People will still have new memories after they die, although I don't understand where I would store them without my brain." Professor Bins turned his head and stared at Nelson with the ghostly milky eyes. "Huo The students of Gewarts always think that I am an old and confused ghost. Yes, I am really indifferent to many things. That is because I have lived for too long and too long. I have sent away countless batches of students. If one If a person remembers too many things, his memory is too long and boring, so I choose to ignore and remember the less important things-such as what students I taught. But you, Mr. Wiltening , You are one of the few students worth remembering. I mean people who don't have the kind of close relationship mentioned in the history of magic, but I believe you will leave your name in the history of magic. "

　　Mr. Wiltening? Professor Bins actually knows my last name? Nelson felt even more flattered.

"So now, Mr. Wiltening, I will answer your doubts," said Professor Bins, floating in front of Nelson, staring at him, "but before that, open your hand and give me Look at... that thing."

　　 "Professor..."

　　 Nelson looked at Professor Bins, who looked extremely urgent, and opened his hand. The professor looked at the Guardian Medal for a long time.

Nelson never expected to see so many emotions in the eyes of a ghost, shock, miss, memories, regret, joy, pain, hatred... all kinds of different emotions are intertwined, which makes Professor Bins unique. Nelson's aura made Nelson couldn't help but empathize.

　　 For a long time, Professor Bins raised his head, looked at Nelson, who had a complicated expression in front of him, and asked, "Where did you find this medal?"

　　 "It was sent to me by Wissengamer." Nelson replied.

　　 "Weizengamo...wesengamo sent it to you? Are they still issuing this medal?" Professor Bins muttered.

　　 "Yes, but they are said to be discussing the issue of stopping the award of the Guardian of the Garter because... you know." Nelson shrugged.

　　 "Yes... our war is over."

　　 Professor Bins turned around and sat on the sofa behind the desk! In Nelson's surprised expression, he waved his hand and the chair by the door floated to the opposite side of him. He nodded and motioned for Nelson to sit down, like a living wizard, and asked, "Can you show me," Is your patron saint?"

Nelson nodded and drew out his wand. This was the smoothest time he used the patron saint spell. Holding the wand, his heart moved, and he didn't even need to recall any happy memories. The unruly falcon rushed out of the wand~ www.mtlnovel.com~ did not show off its speed, but slowly flapped its wings and hovered in front of Professor Bins, showing a humane expression, looking at this strange guy who had never seen him before but made him feel close.

"Great patron saint, Mr. Wiltening." Professor Bins nodded, and Nelson waved his wand. The silver falcon collapsed and disappeared. The professor tapped the armrest of the sofa with his index finger and looked at the medal in Nelson's hand. Asked, "You came to me with it, you should know who I am?"

　　 "I think you shouldn't be like the rumors... you forgot to bring your body when you went to class one morning." Nelson shrugged and said.

"Yes, haha." Professor Bins did not shy away from the cause of his death, and even smiled, but how terrifying the smile was on the face of a ghost, he opened his hands and said, "Rumors are better than real history. It's much more interesting, otherwise it won't spread. I personally think this story is quite interesting.”

"When the award was given, the chief wizard of Wissengarmo told me about the Guardian Medal and the history of the Knights of the Guardian." Nelson said, "In the Knights of the Guardian, there is such a sorcerer who chooses to sever himself and become a ghost. , To explore the secrets of the soul, instinct tells me that you are the wizard."

　　 "Mr. Wiltening, this is not right," Professor Bins shook his head and said, "To study history, to find evidence from historical data, intuition is not trustworthy at all, as unreliable as myths, legends, and rumors."

　　 "I understand, but the historical data of that era is too scarce and too ambiguous," Nelson said he was taught, and then asked, "So it's you?"

"Yes it is."

Chapter end