My Classmate at Hogwarts is Voldemort

"This is... where?"

Ludwig raised his hand, looked at the intact palm and cuffs, and asked blankly, "Is anyone there? Is anyone there?"

No one answered him, so he had no choice but to go to the railroad track, squatted on the ground, and studied for a long time, but couldn't see anything, so he had to stand up, choose a direction at random, and walk there along the railroad track.

I don't know how long he walked, but Ludwig didn't feel hungry or tired. On the contrary, he regained his energy during the long journey. He raised his head and looked blankly at the boundless white field. After walking for a while, the blurred railway tracks in the distance will become clearer, but a boundless road extends to a farther distance. It is not that he has not raised the idea of ​​leaving here, but the wizard who lost his wand is in an unfamiliar environment. What is the difference between unarmed and unarmed? Not to mention that there is no danger here, it is just a boring world, so boring that it makes people feel numb.

There is no scenery on the side of the road. He began to feel that this was the blueprint before the creation of the world. The hands of the creator forgot to give it color and life, and even forgot to erase it after the world was built. He could only continue along the railroad track. Walking, even due to lack of reference, he couldn't be sure if he was going around a circular railway.

Thinking of this, Ludwig thought about it. He took off the jacket of his suit, pulled off a button, and carefully placed it between the sleepers. But as the button left his fingers, the color was quickly replaced by the ubiquitous white. The mist sucked it all away, and even the button itself seemed to be thrown into the water, sinking slowly, and there was no trace of it anymore.

"hiss--"

Ludwig only felt that his scalp was numb. The weirdness here had long been beyond his comprehension. Only the railroad tracks under his feet were similar to those in the normal world. Too much hope.

"Woo..."

The distant but thin sound of the siren rang in Ludwig's ears. He had already gone numb, and he didn't even react to the noise for the first time, until he realized that when the siren raised his head, a beautiful red and black train Already docked beside him, the sophisticated steam locomotive ejected billowing white steam from the chimney, stretching to the sky, and blending with the white mist.

Ludwig looked to the side, the door of the carriage next to him had been opened, the windows were clean, spacious and bright, and there was no passenger in the carriage, he raised his head, and at some point, he was already on a simple platform, far away There are a few invisible phantoms that are slowly fading like the button, as if they have undergone baptism, they stepped onto the train parked beside the platform.

He looked at the compartment in the phantom position, the door was closed tightly, and even the glass could not reveal the inside. Those figures seemed to have not noticed him at all, just like real passengers waiting for the train, they couldn't wait to board. car.

Ludwig raised his head again, the pure white sky above his head had long since disappeared, replaced by a more complex dome with the same color, he recognized this dome, he had seen it too many times in the past few days, it was the king On the dome of the Cross Station, he was surprised to see the pillars soaring in the clouds and mist, and his heart, which had become calm due to the long journey, became agitated again.

"King's Cross Station?" Ludwig felt more excited, "Is this the Hogwarts Express?"

He didn't have time to think about what those colorless phantoms were. His heart was filled with the joy of finding the way to Hogwarts. He looked intently at the carriage. Under the window, there was an "H" emblem surrounded by four beasts. This further confirmed his thoughts, "Could it be that the wall they mentioned is the one I'm leaning against? Isn't this too coincidental?"

Ludwig was immersed in sudden joy and ignorance. In his memory, he clearly came here under a death curse. Could it be that there is also a Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry in hell? Ludwig shook his head, he was determined that he would never go to hell.

"Is it heaven?"

Under all kinds of confusion, he didn't notice at all that the suit that Martha saw through at a glance had already turned into a light gray color, and the color flowed along the leather shoes to the mist under his feet, and it was getting lighter and lighter.

"Woo... woo... woo..."

The head of the car whistled more frequently, and Ludwig was awakened from his thoughts. The whole train was already shaking with the start of the head. The gas lights above the doors in front of him were flickering, as if urging the stranded passengers to get on the train quickly.

Ludwig did not doubt that he was there, and walked towards the car door, but the car door was already slowly closing, a trace of nervousness appeared on his face, and the color on his body became more solid, he quickened his pace, and rushed in.

The car door pinched the corner of his clothes, he turned around and tore at the hem of the coat, with a "stab", the caught piece of cloth was torn off, and it was still clipped on the car door, the light gray cloth Fading quickly, it quickly lost its shape and dissipated into the air.

Ludwig gasped for breath, leaned against the wall of the cubicle, and with a "creak", the door beside him slowly opened, revealing the compartment that was identical to Hogwarts inside.

"Should I go in?"

No one answered him. Ludwig laughed at himself. He should have gotten used to this kind of loneliness without a companion. He looked at the junction of the carriages. The wooden doors were closed, and it seemed that he could not visit the shadows of those fellow carriages. Now, he couldn't help feeling a little regretful, wiped his face briefly, and got into the carriage calmly, he was not afraid that this was some kind of trap, after all, he had nothing to lose.

"Except..." Ludwig clenched his fists and slammed the closed door behind his back. The hard door panel made the back of his hand numb, but he couldn't feel the slightest pain. Wet with tears, it looked even brighter and more colorful, "...Grandpa."

...

In that quiet alley, Ludwig's body twitched for a moment, and soon lost his breath with a quiet smile.

The old man raised his right hand holding the wand, with no expression on his calm face, he looked silently at the tip of the wand that was emitting green smoke, like a dead sculpture, only vibrating constantly, as if about to tear apart Those green pupils can show that he is a little different from Ludwig who fell to the ground.

"Oh... huh." His voice was like a bellows with a hole in it, and there was a sharp accent, as if two people were talking at the same time, his body was trembling, and the hand holding the wand curled up uncontrollably, he disdain Looking at the magic wand slowly pointing at him, he said to himself, "Did you not have the thought of resisting until your favorite grandson died? It's really...belated love."

The murderer was chatting calmly with the victim's family, as if for him, Ludwig's death under the death curse was just a trivial matter, and people who are used to taking other people's lives can naturally turn a blind eye to this tragedy However, the owner of this body, Ludwig's grandfather, watched his proud grandson blown down by the merciless wind like a fallen leaf out of season. The pain in his heart was hard to contain, but But when faced with a stronger force, he could only turn into two lines of dirty tears, which flowed helplessly from his wrinkled face.

Tears washed away the green in the eyes, and rushed out of the riverbed-like valleys, and the wand was slowly approaching the old man's neck.

"What's the use? Apart from killing yourself," he mocked, "you can't even kill yourself. You shouldn't even know the simplest death curse, right? I'll teach you."

There was a cruel smile on the face of the old man, the green necrosis quickly spread to the hand holding the stick, the back of the wrinkled hand festered at a speed visible to the naked eye, he stretched out the other hand, and broke it cruelly Grabbing the finger holding the wand, he took the wand down, held it casually with his left hand, and pointed at Ludwig who fell to the ground.

"This kind of spell is very simple, easy to learn, and practical. Even if you disturbed me just now, the spell still hit your grandson." Deeper and more radiant, "Only a bad wizard can't make up a knife. I want you to watch your grandson die with your own eyes."

He was annoyed that his magic was resisted, but after thinking about it, the old man's resistance gave him a little realistic vision, which on the contrary satisfied the evil thoughts in his heart. The scene at this moment was enough to make everyone who saw it People are terrified—the eyes of the old man are filled with sorrow and morbid satisfaction at the same time, and the vent of the second death is about to come to his most cherished person.

"It's a pity that Muggles can't learn magic." He seemed a little disappointed, disappointed that such a wonderful thing can't be appreciated anytime and anywhere, so he said dejectedly, "I'll just say it once, remember, the magic spell is Avada— "

The wall behind Ludwig suddenly became as soft as water, and the upper body leaning against the wall lost its support and fell into the wall. The old man glared at this scene and shouted: "Death!"

Thick green lightning rushed out from the tip of the staff, biting towards Ludwig's body like a poisonous snake.

"boom!"

Following a violent explosion, the garbage dump where Ludwig was lying was blown away, and dirt and smoke filled the alley. The old man covered his mouth with his sleeve, took two steps back, and left the range of the dirty things.

"It's not good behavior to kill young people."

An unfamiliar voice interrupted the old man's movements. He raised his head and narrowed his eyes. The green light dimmed a bit, but it turned into greener pus, mixed with tears, dripping from the corners of his eyes.

"Is that where platform nine and three-quarters comes in?"

The gunpowder smoke dissipated, and the dirty wall was not damaged in any way, but some insignificant dirt fell off, revealing the red brick wall that had been submerged in the shadows for an unknown number of years, like decades or It looked like it was when it was first built hundreds of years ago. The sound of sirens from the train station rang in the ears of the old man, accompanied by the vibrations caused by the passing trains. , scattered down like a rockslide, and even a piece of rotten fruit peel that gave off a foul smell fell on his feet, full of irony.

No one was seen, but his voice was heard, the wall twisted instantly, a leather shoe that had been polished brightly, but the sole of the foot was wrapped in thick wet mud protruded from the wall, and stepped on the rubbish-filled ground. On the ground, followed by a pair of slender legs covered by purple velvet pants, and a suit jacket of the same color. Albus Dumbledore, who was frequently mentioned by the two fighting just now, walked away from the wall. come out.

"Do you know a lot?" Dumbledore didn't have the slightest smile on his face. Unlike the previous gentle image, at this moment his face only had anger and the coldness of the verdict. "I heard that someone is looking for me. So we rushed over without stopping.”

"No one is looking for you, and you are afraid of trouble, right?" The old man raised his head, and the green eyes that had been washed out of the gully closed again. He gently wiped the tears on his face with the back of his hand, and looked directly at Deng. Bullido's eyes, said softly: "I am—"

"Roar!"

Before he could reveal his identity, a stream of water that swept in at an unknown time had rushed towards him with a ferocious momentum. The splashes collided with the walls on both sides, and the small sounds echoed in the narrow alley. Roaring like a dragon, the waves opened their bloody mouths and ran over the garbage piles that filled the alleys. Not only did the filth accumulated for many years not pollute the purity of the dragon, but was crushed into fine pieces by the original gentle water flow. The imperceptible powder was spread on the ground, raising the ground a bit.

In the next second, its huge mouth opened to the maximum, and the scattered water spray was like dancing feathers and sharp dragon teeth, swallowing the old man who was struggling to raise his hand in one gulp.

"You don't need to tell me who you are."

The coldness in Dumbledore's eyes flashed past, he glanced at the unharmed wall behind him, and said softly, "It's never trouble I'm afraid of."

The old man roared angrily in the current, but his voice was completely drowned out by the running water, and he couldn't even breathe. The pure water flowed past his face, and this harmless natural product brought him great pain. The old face was distorted to the point of being out of shape, and frantic flickering green light appeared on his back, and the fine whirlpools in the water prison were like sharp knives, cutting the horribly cruel green just now. The pain was so clear that he could feel it even if he couldn't hear the sound. Dumbledore looked at the old man through the water curtain, and most of the green in his eyes had already faded. Although it was equally painful, the exposed pupils were full of joy.

A green shadow was rushed out by the strong current, it tightly strangled the old man's neck, unwilling to let go, and the old man's face turned red and purple because of this.

Dumbledore watched the tricky scene, and raised his wand with more force.

...

"Crack!"

In the empty dormitory, there was an inexplicably crisp sound of metal friction, like the sound of a key turning a door lock mechanism.

The question mark who was dozing on Nelson's pillow raised his eyelids in dissatisfaction, and pulled the quilt cover over himself.

But the subsequent sound of gears turning completely disturbed its peaceful sleep. The question mark bared its teeth, and its bristling fur showed its sharp claws. With a light wave, Nelson's pillow was scratched out of the cotton wool like snowflakes.

It jumped to the floor angrily, its nails scraping against the wooden floor, making a tooth-splitting sound.

The question mark pricked up its ears, carefully looking for the direction of the sound, and vowed to give it a little color. The moment the sound ended, it curled up, jumped, and got under Nelson's bed. Cotton wadding and goose feathers flying all over the sky.