My Classmate at Hogwarts is Voldemort Chapter 325

"You are my junior?"

The candle flame on the overhead chandelier flashed violently and turned into a faint green. Salazar Slytherin's face looked gloomy and oppressive under the candlelight, and his hoarse voice was like a life-threatening voice. The whisper of the evil spirit pressed Tom firmly on the sofa, unable to move.

The other three in the office stared at each other in silence, wondering what medicine was sold in the Slytherin gourd.

Tom looked away from the portrait, nodded apologetically to Dumbledore, and stood up. He walked slowly to the desk, raised his head, his waist straight, and asked without arrogance:

"Who are you?"

The scene of Slytherin's meticulously prepared meeting was ruthlessly destroyed the atmosphere. The candle on the chandelier trembled, restoring the true colors of the flames, and the office was re-illuminated. He was silent for a moment and looked at Tom's face. Did not move a half point.

One young and one old, one painting for one person, one death for one lifetime, one new and one old.

Their eyes met in the air, almost bursting out real sparks. Tom had known who the real person appeared in the portrait of the principal for a long time, but even if it was his possible ancestor, he was unwilling to put his head down in front of others. Slytherin, who was equally proud, did not try to break the silence. The two people looked at each other like this, their eyes seemed to cross the past and the present, traveling through time and space.

Slytherin's face was expressionless, but the emotions in his eyes were extremely complicated. A portrait should not have such a complicated look. His eyes were like an all-permeable beam, which pierced Tom's equally straight face. His head is high, poking straight into his heart, and Tom still stands silently, letting Slytherin look at him, he has his own pride, even Slytherin doesn't know this one who has passed thousands of years. What are the juniors thinking?

"Squeak..."

The sleepy Fox made a cute cry. It seemed to be hungry in his sleep, and this whisper successfully broke the solidified air in the office, allowing it to flow again.

"Tom, this is Salazar Slytherin," Dumbledore stopped looking at each other between Slytherin and Tom. Looking at Tom who turned his head, Dumbledore said softly, "He is Hogg. One of the founders of Woz."

"Yes," Slytherin's gaze never looked away from Tom's face, and even the back of his head was read with gusto, "I am the owner of this castle."

"Mr. Slytherin," Tom turned his head and gave Slytherin a standard wizarding ceremony, "Thank you for everything you have done for the wizard."

After saying this, he fell into silence again, which made Slytherin's heart difficult. Although his expression was still cold, his inner activities were enriched.

"Is this offspring of me a dull gourd? Doesn't he like to talk? That's not good. People with Slytherin blood must not only be good enough, but also be funny and humorous. This is not conducive to the inheritance of the Slytherin family's blood. "Slytherin was caught in a complicated brainstorm, and he had even forgotten his purpose when he spoke.

The two were silent for a while, and finally Tom spoke.

"I'm sorry, I picked those gems," Tom knew what Slytherin was talking about. He helped Slytherin remember the beginning of the conversation, and admitted it generously, even ready to borrow a little from Nelson to lose money. Preparations, "I didn't expect...their owner is still there."

Slytherin stared at Tom a little speechlessly. This junior made him feel a little tricky. He spoke a little unconventionally, but he still maintained the image of a profound ancestor very well, and said blankly, "I understood."

"Sorry, I will restore them."

"It's nothing," Slytherin shook his head. He was no less curious about Tom than Tom was curious about him. "What is the meaning of gems to wizards? It's just a beautiful stone. People are always better than wealth. Much more important."

"Yeah." Tom didn't know how to answer, so he could only reply in a low voice.

"You are a bit like Tom Marvolo Riddle when I was young." Slytherin seemed to want to remember Tom's face. He called out Tom's full name and said in a circumspect manner, "At Hogg Woz, you are the most special one."

"I am no different from all living beings." Tom replied without ups and downs.

Slytherin laughed. It was different from everyone's imagined "Jie Jie Jie" laughter. His laughter was ordinary, not very different from any hearty old man. The only difference was that he might be very Laugh less, so there is more or less uncoordinated hoarseness in the laughter.

He became more and more interested in this junior, who was often praised by Dumbledore. He seemed to say a self-respecting sentence, but he also used "all living beings" to describe other people. This was a contradictory sentence, but he felt that Tom's body couldn't be more suitable.

The laughter lasted for a short time and the event was over.

"Your name, Tom Marvolo Riddle, Marvolo in the middle, tut, it's a ridiculous name," Slytherin had already pieced together Tom's genealogy from the mouths of other principals, and he also knew Marvo How unbearable Luo is, so he was quite disdainful in his tone, "Maybe the most valuable of this name is to become your middle name, he is called Marvolo Gaunt, and the Gaunt family may be the last of my stay in the world. A blood vein is gone, so do you know? My blood is flowing in your body."

Tom did not speak. He suddenly felt a strange feeling. Slytherin's face seemed to overlap with another old Tom who had come to climb relatives. He felt that he didn't need any other relatives, even though Nelson had told him the truth early. But when this sentence was uttered from the Slytherin population, he was still a little shocked.

His expression was caught in Slytherin's eyes, which made Slytherin nod in satisfaction.

"Go to the secret room, my child." He sullenly said softly. He may not have been so easy-going in his life. Looking at Tom standing at the desk, he looked like he had seen himself back then. Nelson on the side, "Nordic boy, I need a little help."

"Oh, alright."

The dog-blood drama Nelson was expecting did not begin. Slytherin seemed to be about to pull Tom to whisper. Hearing the call, he stood up, drew his wand, waved it lightly, and lost mist gushing out from the tip of the stick and enveloped it. Portrait of Slytherin.

Under the gaze of all the principal, the four living people, and a bird that just woke up, the lost fog condensed around the portrait like a whirlpool. Nelson had put away his wand and watched with interest the fog gradually turning into dark green.

After being stained with color, the lost fog became solid, like a soft brocade, lightly deformed in mid-air, as if passing through the hands of a skilled tailor, a luxurious old wizard robe slowly in the air Slowly forming, it fell lightly to the ground, and when it was about to fall beside Tom, an old man suddenly appeared in the wizard's robe.

Salazar Slytherin showed his true face again. It was different from the old and sick appearance when Nelson met him before. Now, although he still has wrinkles on his face, his age is blurred. You can say He is an old cucumber painted with green paint. It can also be said that he is an anxious young man. He is as handsome as Tom, but each has its own merits. There is no doubt that no one can resist a handsome old man with a big back. Beauty.

He stepped on the carpet, feeling a solid touch, nodded in the direction of the three of them, and walked to the door of his own accord, walking like flying, leaving a light "follow up."

Tom was silent for a moment, exchanged glances with Nelson, and left the office.

There was a shocked silence in the office. Except Nelson, it was the first time anyone could come out of the portrait.

"It's hard to imagine that Slytherin still has such an excellent student." After a while, when the footsteps in the hallway disappeared, Phineas' numb and uncomfortable voice sounded: "You can perform that again. Do you? I don't mind using it as your demonstration prop."

After explaining the peculiarities of the Slytherin portrait, Dumbledore finally calmed down these eager principals, and they were finally able to talk about Professor Sykes again, after talking about the Curly Winged Demon. , The topic came to Professor Sykes' sister, Qiao Kunda.

"Professor, I don't know Jokunda Sykes very well. In fact, we only have one side. I don't even know why she stuffed the Curly Wing Demon into my backpack," Nelson recalled. For a moment, he said, "After Jokunda left school, Tom once met her, in Paris. At that time, I happened to find his biological father. You may have heard that it was because of a report, the title Yes-"

"Okay, I know about it." Dumbledore held his forehead with one hand and waved the other, interrupting Nelson's increasingly divergent statement. "About Jokunda, I miss Aberforth. He knows better than me, but he always refuses to tell me what happened."

"Professor, I was there when Mr. Aberforth sent Jokunda away," Nelson said, "I can tell you what happened."

"That's best." Dumbledore rubbed his hands, and finally knew what his brother had done.

"Perhaps the memory will be more intuitive?" Nelson pointed to his temple, and said, "Can you let me use the meditation basin? My memory is a bit difficult to sort out."

"Of course," Dumbledore pointed to the bookcase, a wooden door opened, and the meditation basin was randomly placed on the basin stand, he repeatedly exhorted, "Memory magic is very dangerous, don't hurt yourself."

"Don't worry, professor." Nelson stood up and walked to the penis.

After Nelson buried his face in the penis, Professor Slughorn, who had not spoken, frowned and said to Dumbledore, "Don't you know that the damage of memory may directly affect the soul? Nelson's extraction of memory is required. The look of the meditation basin, at first glance, is that he is not familiar with the mind of the gods, do you dare to let him go by himself?"

"Don't worry, I dare not say anything else, but he feels that his soul attainment exceeds that of the vast majority of people in this world. This is a natural talent," Dumbledore explained. "As for the meditation basin, with all due respect, If you suddenly have emotions that don't belong to you for nearly a thousand years, then I think you may want to take care of yourself and you have to hang the meditation basin on your back."

"Albus," Professor Slughorn said only when Dumbledore's "sentiment of nearly a thousand years" was an exaggerated rhetoric, and did not delve into the reason for it, but just asked with some worry, "tell the students that these are true. Okay? I worry that they will get involved in some trouble."

"Horace, do you really think they are afraid of these things?"

"I'm not sure," Professor Slughorn shook his head. "But as teachers, we should have kept these things out of the campus for the children. In the student stage, they are always flowers that need to be cared for."

"I agree with you, Horace," Dumbledore replied after hesitating for a moment, "but in fact, they have been involved, and they are even more involved than we are in certain matters, just use curled wings. For the devil, if we keep concealing the facts from them, Nelson's head will one day be chipped away by the sharp teeth of the curly-winged demon. They are already in danger, especially Nelson. He is already involuntarily involuntarily, you know. Is the secret about the rise of Newmondgard circulating among the guys in Knockturn Alley?"

"Those alchemy..."

"That's Nelson." Dumbledore lowered his head and rubbed his eyes. "I used to think the same as you, Horace, I hope the students are like crystals in the ivory tower, carefully protected and carved by us. After they grow up, they can become good people on their own. But think about it, in this era, how can we guarantee that the children who leave school on the first day can suddenly learn everything like they have picked up Merlin's wisdom when they go out. We dare not even dare It is guaranteed that they have the ability to distinguish right from wrong, but how to ensure that they can resist danger?"

Professor Slughorn clenched his hands and rubbed it repeatedly without speaking.

"I can tell you, Horace." Dumbledore took off his eyes and put it on the table. The portraits of the principal on the wall didn't know when they all went out in an emergency. He buried his entire face in his hands. , Weng Sheng said angrily, "Nelson is not a person who can guide like ordinary students. His stubbornness is beyond your imagination. I have tried but failed. I used to think that I wanted to help him carry everything, but for For him, this kind of dedication is like a charity of compassion. He is destined to be a person who will move forward step by step."

"But Grindelwald..." Slughorn squeezed the name out of his teeth, hesitantly, his eyes were full of worry, he glanced at Nelson's back, "Nelson doesn't Can…"

"No!" Dumbledore said convincingly.

"The changes in this castle are really big!"

"Yes, sir, after all, it has been more than a thousand years." Tom is like a qualified tour guide, taking Slytherin for sightseeing in his former home. "The times are developing very fast. Now the transportation for school is the train. ."

"Oh..." Slytherin didn't know what "train" was, but he didn't ask much. "I heard Albus say, have you met Roina?"

"Yes, sir."

"Then have you met Godric?" Slytherin asked. Suddenly, his footsteps stopped. "How did the entrance to the secret room become like this?"

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Chapter end