My Classmate at Hogwarts is Voldemort Chapter 540

Mr. Nelson Wilttening Williams:

classmates.

Today may be the last time I call you that. I still remember seven years ago on September 1st, when I was not the headmaster of Hogwarts, and I took you into the Great Hall, one by one sitting in the center of the stage. On the triangle stool, I put the Sorting Hat on my head that I wore many years ago. When the Sorting Hat loudly shouted out your destination in the next seven years, were you excited, disappointed, or even thought about it? To experience such a magical adventure?

Over the past few years, I have watched you come here one by one on the Hogwarts Express, escape from the cage that binds you one by one through the secret passage, and look forward to the flowery world outside. Calling friends for fun Footprints will eventually be covered by pairs of curious boots.

I walked through the castle and watched you waving your wands over and over, practicing the spells you learned from books and classes, from the simplest floating spell to the phantom spell seven years later. Perseverance is the same. In front of the potions classroom, I watched you stir the potions in the pot with silver sticks over and over again. Outside the forbidden forest, I watched you pay for your mistakes. I think Those manageable dangers should have taught you how to weigh your impulses and consequences in your future life...

Don't worry, there is no shy teacher who will nag and teach the students all the time when they graduate. This sentence was given to us by Professor Dippet many years ago when I just graduated from Hogwarts. I Transcribe it in a notebook and review it from time to time, but the embarrassing thing is that even today, as an adult, I have no way to balance the impulse and the consequences. If I think about it again and again, can it still be called an impulse? And our lives are not so step-by-step and interesting because of these and other impulses.

As a teacher, I don't want you to be a cowardly person who looks forward and backward. I only hope that you will have the ability to shoulder responsibility after your impulses have passed.

What I saw was quite different from Professor Dippet. Outside the Quidditch pitch, I watched you practise on the Quidditch pitch with your school's bald brooms. You get up again and again if you fall scarred, in the basement, I watch you practice duels and master your magic, in the castle at Christmas, I see couples under the mistletoe Whispering softly and rubbing your ears, I see you grow taller, mature, beautiful, flamboyant, unbreakable, bold, wise, generous, and wise day by day , I think I have fulfilled my ideal - to train you into students enough to make me proud.

Whether you are Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Slytherin or Hufflepuff, you have grown into people with courage, wisdom, strategy and character. Give us hope from generation to generation of principals.

Please cherish your friends, cherish your ideals, cherish your past, these things that are commonplace in everyone's eyes will be unique treasures that will make you laugh when you remember late at night, and I I'm very happy that I have a place in your growing memory.

I don't want to take up everyone's time, and I don't want to paint your last impression of Hogwarts as a whimpering headmaster, so I'll just leave these words in the letter, remember, don't disturb the sleeping dragon, everyone from Hogwarts In the hearts of those who walk out, there is a giant dragon who dares to roar at any time. Of course, please hide your sharp teeth and claws in the gentle sunshine.

Let's turn our eyes back to the first line of this letter, my dear children, when you put on the sorting hat, fate is not so decided, we can give you only one to rest at will A warm bed, a classroom where you can gain endless knowledge, a group of fun friends who can be with each other - someone once asked me, does the Sorting Hat judge a person?

I want to say, no, who you become does not depend on who you are, but who you want to be.

I left the Sorting Hat at the entrance of the Great Hall, it may be your first friend when you entered Hogwarts, and maybe you still want to see it on the last day of your school days.

(By the way, you may not catch up, this year's Academy Cup goes to Hufflepuff.)

Your loyalty,

Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore

"I don't think this letter is Dumbledore's style, what do you think?"

Tom raised his head, was silent for a long time, and then slowly said to Nelson, who was sitting opposite, that only half of the bread had been moved on the plate in front of him. Tomatoes, haven't even touched a mouthful, there aren't many people in the auditorium, at this moment it belongs only to the seventh graders who have finished the last course of the NEWTs exam, these guys who could still be called young a few days ago have their faces hanging on their faces A complex expression that has never been seen before - they should celebrate this moment, and be happy to get rid of the rules of teachers and school rules, but every year at this time of year, this kind of escape is the weakest joy, don't they? Nostalgia? No one seems willing to admit this.

"I think it's like Minerva wrote it, or Professor Slughorn."

Nelson looked away from the empty plate to the door of the auditorium, where the three-legged stool that knew everyone's **** had appeared at some point, and a tattered old wizard hat squinted and sat on it. , noticing Nelson's gaze, it raised its brow and gave a narrow smile--if the folds of fabric piled up could be called a smile--at least Nelson thought so, he murmured, "But I at least It is certain that Professor Dumbledore wrote a lot of content himself, after all, Minerva is not like a person who can write sentences like 'softly speaking, whispering'."

"I think so too." Tom smiled. "I remember when you first entered school, you looked down on Slytherin very much. I was afraid that you couldn't help but drop out of school."

"Then where do I go to learn magic?" Nelson shook his head, "I'm not going to be a silent one."

"Want to take a look?" Tom put down the knife and fork in his hand that was not stained with a drop of soup, pouted at the Sorting Hat outside the gate, and invited Nelson, "I wonder if you have become a real Slytherin. "

"It is recommended that Hogwarts set up a house called 'Williams'." Nelson shrugged and stood up, "I don't want to be embarrassed when I graduate."

The two walked through the auditorium, facing the smiling faces, familiar or unfamiliar. The dome reflected the sunny weather outside the castle. The shadow dragged on the ground short, it ran fast with Nelson's footsteps, like a confused and excited, cowardly and bold child, he held a wand longer than his forearm, and held up the wand that was about to decide him. Hat for the next seven years of life.

"Oh? It's you? Do you have any objection to my assignment back then?"

"No," Nelson sat on the triangle stool. The stool that he needed to jump to climb up now even has some legs. He closed his eyes, but his face was long gone, and he asked softly, " For me now, which college do you think is more suitable?"

"Let me think about it, brave... You are really brave, but it's better to be reckless, too brave; wisdom... You can be worthy of the word, this detached vision has been pursued by her for many years; morality is not bad, You've done a lot of good things," the Sorting Hat's features were crumpled together, making the already crumpled hat look even more ugly, and it struggled to think, "Oh, my God, this kind of ambition... Now you It really makes it difficult for me to choose, maybe you can tell me where your heart is more inclined?"

The Sorting Hat bent down and stared upside down at Nelson's face with the tip of his wizard hat.

"Did you forget? I'm a Slytherin."

"Well, since you said so... Sure enough, the Sorting Hat can't go wrong," the Sorting Hat raised its head suddenly, posing exactly the same posture as a freshman when he entered the school, and shouted, "S—"

"Slytherin, right, try it for me," a hand stretched out, grabbed the hat, and put it on his head, "I think I'm more suitable for Ravenclaw, what do you think?"

Nelson followed the sound, and Alphard was wearing his hat, standing proudly beside him and Tom.

"Gryffindor!!"

The Sorting Hat's shrill roar cut through the sky, almost toppling the top of Hogwarts Castle, and it cocked up angrily, and Nelson swore that even a human face couldn't make such a wonderful expression, if its Among the options is Azkaban, which will definitely assign Alphard there without hesitation.

"Gryffindor!"

The Sorting Hat was still roaring, putting an imperfect end to all the seventh graders staring at it.

"It is said that every year there are heavy casualties on the Hogwarts Express that sends graduates home."

The train, which has become lighter because it carries one-seventh of the passengers on weekdays, is driving fast on the green field. Every time it turns, it even gives Nelson an illusion that he is about to take off. Alphard is sitting in the compartment. Inside, loudly showing off the scoop he'd heard from his sister.

"Because everyone likes to settle feuds on this train. You know, there are quite a few dead enemies in the school."

"Really?" Tom squinted his eyes, and his face was not as disappointed as most people left. The day before the train arrived, the news of Professor Melles' retirement was finally announced at the entrance of the principal's office and the Office of Defense Against the Dark Arts. It was announced on the column that he held a receipt for the application information in his hand. One month before the start of the semester, he had to take the train back here to apply for the position of Defence Against the Dark Arts professor. Fortunately, when I left, I had already put laxatives in the water pipe of the castle."

"Really?" Nelson raised his eyebrows. "It won't conflict with my constipation pill, will it?"

His tone didn't seem to be fake, which made Tom, who was still indifferent just now, suddenly straighten up and stared at Nelson with wide eyes, "Are you serious? Are you so vengeful?"

"It's a joke, of course," Nelson patted Tom on the shoulder. "Professor Riddle, did you get into the role so quickly?"

"That's all right." Tom lay back on the back, turned slightly to his side, snatched Alphard's hand that was trying to **** the receipt, and said lazily, "Be careful I lock you up, Mr. Black."

"If only you had applied earlier, Tom," said Alphard with a sullen face, "so I wouldn't have to write my Defence Against the Dark Arts homework."

"You can write to Dumbledore now and apply for a year of retention," Nelson laughed, "so that you can be fortunate enough to be the first class of graduating students that Professor Riddle has brought, and maybe he will teach you a little outside. There's also a chance that he won't be able to learn something—if, of course, he actually becomes Professor Riddle."

"Are you so unconfident in me?" Tom sat up straight again and raised his voice, "You don't know that the people who compete with me on the same stage are all writing about stinky fish and rotten shrimp, about Defence Against the Dark Arts theorists, Retired Auror, 3rd runner-up in the duel competition of the Little Dragon Club... God, this is the first time I heard that there is such a rank as 3rd place. Don't you feel ashamed to write it on your resume? I remember that the club he said was a Gobstone club, can you? It may not be necessary to gather four duel contest participants. UU reading www.uukanshu.com suggests that Hogwarts learn this kind of brazen spirit, so that the term of the Academy Cup sounds much better, but it is called the runner-up... Damn, I remembered that we are the end of the year this year, oh no, it's about the third rank."

"Hey, third," Alphard smirked, "the last joke at Hogwarts."

"Mr. Black," Tom's eyes were suddenly fixed on Alphard, and he gritted his teeth, "I remember you just said that this train is often used to settle feuds?"

"Also...not often." Alphard held his schoolbag to his chest, "I remember we don't have any old grudges, buddy?"

"Really?" Tom stood up, "if Mr. Black, who wasn't a genius, came up with the genius idea of ​​skipping classes on the grounds of an internship, and enjoyed life in Diagon Alley for more than half a month, we would have You don't have to take the risk of deducting thirty points every day until you are found, are you right?"

"Tom," said Alphard angrily, "you're no longer a boy representative, a prefect, or even a Slytherin student!"

"Nal, please." Tom turned sideways to make way for Nelson, "help, don't let the train break, thank you."

Nelson nodded, stood up, walked past Tom, and gave Alphard a pitying look.

"Save me, Nelson! Save buddy!"

"Your buddy is very good. Did you learn it in Diagon Alley?" Tom showed a sinister smile.

Nelson shrugged, closed the door of the compartment, nodded to the two girls holding hands in the corridor, and locked the last sentence "Nelson save me, how can I live without you!"

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Chapter end