My Classmate at Hogwarts is Voldemort

"Mettle, things are not what you think."

Nelson stepped back to the door, leaned against the door, and tried to twist the doorknob to open the door, but found that the door would not open.

The sun was shining outside the window, and there were almost no owls left in the house. The few remaining ones were sleeping on the shelves. He thought of the night when he came here last time.

"Nelson Wertling Williams." Mettle said slowly, she didn't look directly at Nelson, but just whispered his name, her expression was in a trance, like a dream.

"Listen to me—" He slightly raised his hands and put them on his shoulders, indicating that he was not malicious.

"Nelson Wertling," Mettle didn't seem to hear Nelson's name, interrupted him, and continued to repeat Nelson's name softly in her sleepy tone, the voice echoed in the empty owl room Inside, it is extraordinarily ethereal.

Nelson let go of her hands helplessly, hanging on her side to see what Mettle wanted to do. From the day she almost stepped on Mettle at the Lihen Bookstore before school started, she seemed to have left a psychological shadow on Nelson and was full of fear of him. , he has always wanted to ask what kind of prejudice Mytel has against him, but she seems to have been unwilling to give the opportunity to communicate.

"I know you, I know what's going on this time—" Myrtle looked sideways at Nelson, who had big brown eyes that should have been beautiful on her fair face, but through The pair of large glasses on the bridge of the nose occupying half of the face are magnified, making it difficult to look directly at them, which reminds Nelson of Ollivander's magical silver eyes.

"You always thought I was afraid of you?" Mettle asked.

Nelson didn't speak, but just stood there silently. This kind of atmosphere made him scratch his head, not knowing what kind of medicine was being sold in Mettle's gourd.

Seeing that he didn't speak, Mettle spoke again slowly, feeling more sleepy, "Actually, I'm really afraid of you, but it's far from being afraid."

"Fear and fear feel differently - fear keeps me away, fear makes me resist approaching. I'm afraid of black magic, I'm afraid of death, fear can take everything I have... But I'm afraid of the unknown, so at first, I'm afraid of you."

"Then you should be afraid of everything." Nelson couldn't help but speak.

"No, that's different." Myrtle shook her head slowly, "It's just strangers, you, Nelson, you're different, you're a very incongruous person, unlike any stranger I've ever met .”

"Uncoordinated?" Nelson asked with a frown. He was thinking about whether he was walking around and was spotted by Mettle, and Mettle happened to suffer from severe obsessive-compulsive disorder...

"It's not what you think..." She seemed to see what Nelson was thinking, "Human coordination is not reflected on the surface. I can see many things that others cannot see, as if by magic... like divination , like...um—"

She seemed to be unable to think of any adjectives for a while.

"Yes! Color!" She slapped her head and jumped off the table, "Color...for example, Professor Dumbledore's color is red, Professor Sykes' color is blue, and your friend Tom Riddle is a blockbuster Your black is mixed with red, and your colors . . . are incongruous."

Walking up to Nelson, she repeated, "Your colors don't match...I guess you don't even know what color you are."

Nelson looked at Mettle, who was approaching him, and felt that this man was talking in a daze, which was weird. He couldn't help but want to step back, and his waist was hit by the doorknob.

"hiss--"

"I've never seen such an incongruous color, so I was afraid of you at first, and then Professor Sykes told us, never be afraid of the unknown, otherwise it will always be unknown... and fear will always be unknown." It has always existed." She walked up to Nelson and stood still, suddenly smiled and stretched out her right hand, "I think it's funny to be mysterious like this, you see, you're already afraid of me, Nelson."

"..." Nelson looked at Mettle in amazement. The girl in front of him was far from the image of Mettle in his impression. He put his left hand behind his back to fumble for the doorknob, and his right hand quietly crawled into his pocket Touch the wand.

"I have forgiven you for stepping on me."

Mettle grabbed his right wrist and lifted it up, holding it with his right hand.

...

"Nelson, do you know what Mettle's flower language is?" Walking side by side in the corridor, Mettle suddenly took a few steps, walked up to Nelson, turned to face him, and spoke backwards with her hands behind her back.

"Mytel?" Nelson was a little confused. Although he had a good impression, he also felt that Mettle's behavior of comparing himself to a delicate flower to the person he was talking to for the first time was outrageous.

"I mean, Myrtle, my name is also the name of a flower," Myrtle explained.

"What is it? A shrub with purple flowers that smells sweet?"

Nelson stopped abruptly, and Myrtle turned to look behind her, saw nothing, and turned again.

He thought of a lonely ghost floating in the bathroom decades later, crying all the year round, longing for someone to share the toilet with him... He tried his best to hide the expression of pity he couldn't restrain.

"No, it's weird and mysterious." Seeing that he didn't know anything, Mettle explained, "You see I'm acting weird today, you're afraid."

"Well……"

"But I think my life is too simple and too monotonous. I'm just an ordinary person—not mysterious at all." Mettle said on the side, and they walked to the door of the Ravenclaw lounge, with a somewhat Aggrieved, "So I think it may be because I am too ordinary that everyone doesn't like me very much."

"That's not enough to..."

Mettle suddenly stuck out her tongue at him, ran to the Ravenclaw's brass door knocker, answered the question "What do zero and one have in common" in a low voice, and then slipped into the lounge.

"Nelson, what are you trying to do to my students?" A familiar voice and words came from behind, and he found himself walking to the door of Professor Sykes.

"Professor Sykes." Nelson stood up reflexively, "I really didn't do anything."

"Well." Professor Sykes walked away from him.

Watching Professor Sykes leave, he leaned on the handrail of the stairs, twirling his wand in his left hand, gently stroking the handwriting written on his left hand with the thumb of his right hand, and looking in the direction of the Ravenclaw lounge.

Mettle said that his eyes had the magic power of a prophet, so why didn't he have it? The plots I know are much clearer than the obscure hints in the prophecies. The fate of most people has long been woven into the scripts in fairy tales by children's literature writers—just like this girl with big eyes full of spirituality, who was born early In this revenge story, he was assigned the most insignificant and tragic fate...

"I want to change them. My life is a gift from fate, but it can also break through the cage of the giver...Since I'm here, there must be something different..."

He lowered his head and rubbed his dry eyes.

"Nelson, do you like one of our Ravenclaw girls?"

Nelson turned around, it was Dwight of Ravenclaw.

"Why is it always you?" He groaned in his heart, and could only turn his head to explain, "No, Dwight, I just—"

"You're a good man, don't worry, you'll be happy!" He rushed to the door knocker and shouted back, "Nelson! Do you know what zero and one have in common?"

"I don't know!" Nelson yelled loudly without looking back. The young man was still warm-hearted, "Aren't you Ravenclaws the wisest?"

"It is also a kind of wisdom to seek help from a wiser person!"

Nelson felt that the young man's arrogance was a bit annoying, and felt that it was quite comfortable to be licked. He turned around and shrugged at Dwight, and went downstairs with a "thump thump thump".

...

"Nelson, you're welcome."

In her afternoon class on herbal medicine, Alphard squeezed the pus of the Gordy root bulb on Nelson's neckline, his face full of embarrassment after a successful prank.

"Alphad, you do this kind of thing—" Nelson moved his butt away from Alphard, and put on the dragon leather gloves slowly.

"How's it going, what's going on in the end?" Alphard urged from the side, he squatted up a little excitedly, interrupting Nelson's speech, Nelson noticed that Tom, who was sitting next to him peeling off the clods stuck to Gordigen, also prick up your ears.

"Alphad, didn't you consider that I would meet Professor Sykes when you did this kind of thing?" Nelson took advantage of Tom's unpreparedness and squeezed pus on his face.

"So what?" Alphad didn't care, and started spraying Gordigan's pus everywhere again.

"Five points from Slytherin for playing with herbs."

Before Alphard's face collapsed, he heard Nelson say quietly.

"Mrs. Sykes told me to make you copy the third chapter of the Charms textbook as a punishment for copying homework... She hopes to see your copy when she sees you tonight."

Alphard's face collapsed completely, his squatting feet seemed to go numb, and he sat down on the ground, following the inertia, lying in the pile of roots peeled off by his classmates, covered in mucus, looking at him funny With a bitter melon face that looked like a war criminal, Tom, who was stripping the soil next to him, finally couldn't help laughing, the strength in his hand was uncontrollable, and another pus sprayed on Alphard's face.

"Trying with herbs again, ten points for Slytherin."

"Hahahahaha!" Tom threw the Goldigan in his hand back to the ground, not caring about his own image, and laughed.

The students around heard the noise here and didn't know what was going on. They looked at them one after another and saw the loveless Alphard lying on the ground. They burst into laughter, and the flower shed was full of joy.

"There was a lot of noise in the classroom, and Slytherin and Hufflepuff each deducted ten points." Head Hufflepuff's voice was drowned in laughter.

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