My Classmate at Hogwarts is Voldemort

"Thump-thump--"

"Dengdengdeng..."

"Thump, thump, thump!"

The sound of footsteps from far and near echoed in the dim hall, and the surrounding doors were closed tightly. No one came out to blame the colleague who made noise during working hours. Perhaps he was the only one on this floor, Nelson speculated. If he hadn't passed by the newly built prophecy hall on the floor of the Department of Mysteries, and saw the only one other than him who was silent at the door, he would even think that what Rich promised him was only a half-repaired floor , the position of a polished commander, but he is not willing to knock on every door to peek inside. In most cases, members of the Department of Mysteries also need to keep silent to each other.

Nelson strode up and down the hall of the Department of Mysteries, the soles of his shoes collided with the hard masonry floor, making a clear and powerful footstep. He seemed to be measuring the entrance hall of the Ministry of Magic both physically and upstairs. The hall is exactly the same, it is buried deep in the ground, between the power of justice and the crime that needs to be judged, like a sandwich between magic and magic.

The pitch-black body of the wand of black walnut floats vaguely in the shadowy sight, only the silver emblem of the Knights of the Garter shines in the darkness, and the key and emblem that are not integrated collide, brewing in the dull air. The brisk sound of wind chimes made the closed doors look more like a top-secret place for studying magic, rather than the torture room that Nelson subconsciously thought of when he first entered.

"No...no," Nelson's figure appeared in every corner of the hall, his wand swiftly swept over those corners that could easily be overlooked, and muttered, "Not this one either, it's too clean."

"What are you looking for, Mr. Williams?"

Suddenly an old question came from behind Nelson. He turned his head and saw a crooked old woman standing in a slightly opened door with her back facing him. Her dark gray hair could almost blend into the shadows. Her voice Reminds Nelson of those witches in fairy tales who like to brew dark green bubbling potions and especially love to persecute princesses, "There is nothing in that hall except you and the things you brought."

"Why don't you turn around? Ma'am." Nelson asked subconsciously, but he quickly realized the impoliteness and inappropriateness of his words, and hurriedly said, "Sorry, I want to ask, where is my room ?”

"I don't want to see what you brought, Mr. Williams, and I can't," the old woman shook her head. "There is a nameplate on your office door, and now there is only a name. We have prepared a welcome ceremony for you, but when will it be held?" After the hall has been cleaned up."

"Thanks."

Nelson nodded, and before he finished speaking, the door closed in front of him. As he said before, the hall of the Department of Mysteries is too clean, and there are no spells or devices for monitoring or spying, even if it is People who are greedy for profit will keep a respectful distance from the taboo knowledge that may exist on this floor.

He walked along the edge of the rotunda, lit the light with his wand, passed the closed doors, and finally found his name on the door facing the entrance—as the old woman said, it was true. It was just a nameplate - a board stuck between the door frames that read "Nelson Wertling Williams".

As soon as he approached, a pungent stale musty smell hit his face. Nelson raised his hand and slapped his nose. He stretched out his hand to reach for the doorknob, but under the dim light of his wand, he noticed the thick dust on it. , He clicked his tongue in distaste, pointed his wand at the doorknob, twirled his wrist nimbly, stepped back half a step, and kicked a corner on the door.

Compared with the wooden door, he felt more like kicking on the sand dunes. The wooden door shook vigorously. The door lock whose magic was broken could not resist this force. With a "click", the lock cylinder broke and attached to the door The dust in the hall was also blown up, Nelson nimbly jumped back a step, dodging the oncoming dust, he raised his wand, suddenly a strong wind blew up in the hall, sweeping away these things that had been left unattended for an unknown period of time The dust blew outside the Department of Mysteries, and the black door of the Department of Mysteries was also slammed shut under the gust of wind, cutting off the only light from the corridor. Behind the open wooden door was his future office , It was so dark that the area could not be seen, and even the boundary between the floor and the wall could not be distinguished. A mayfly with big eyes flashed out of his pocket, and a strong light was emitted from its one eye, and it got in.

Nelson covered his mouth with his sleeve, and with a wave of his wand, a dust-blocking hood appeared around him, and he followed the mayfly's guidance and strode in.

Under the strong light, he was able to see the clues of this office. A few unopened wooden boxes were piled up in a corner, and the words "furniture and equipment" were written on the seal on them. There was nothing else, as if The wizard who sent these boxes here didn't want to stay for a second at all, and just fled away. He finally understood what the other people in the Ministry of Magic showed when they had an ambiguous attitude towards the Department of Mysteries. In the correspondence, Nobby Rich repeatedly asked whether he really decided to go to this department.

"It's better to have nothing than to be stuffed."

Nelson shrugged his shoulders, raised his arms, and a mayfly with silver light flew out of his pocket, flapped his wings and went to every corner of the room, and quickly transformed into bright lamps after landing, lighting up the entire room Lighting up a room, Nelson noticed that the Department of Mysteries room was not as recent as Nobby Rich claimed. It looked very old, with large stone bricks and mottled walls, and nail The traces left by the bookshelves, the stone in one corner looks newer, it seems that there used to be a window there, and it was sealed up later, as if a certain ancient building that already existed was moved to the negative ninth floor, and this is also One of those places where Zweig's team of professional building construction wizards failed to step in.

The whole room is square and not small in size, but the body feels very cramped. The height of the floor obviously does not match the area, and it is almost as long as the length and width. It makes Nelson feel like he has got into a box. A few pipes lead to unknown places, but they have been cut off in the middle, and can only be regarded as decorations. There is an inconspicuous small wooden door in the back of the room. Like other offices in the ministry, it is used for wizards who work overtime to rest Yes, but you can tell with boots, no one would want to sleep in this kind of place.

Other than that, it was dust as thick as putty. Nelson didn't even have a place to set his feet. He found a fairly clean ground, leaned against the pile of boxes, took out a Maza from his pocket and sat down decisively. Stretching out his wand, he pointed at the wall where the small door of the lounge was, and the phantom of a giant steel fist flashed in front of him. The next second, the wall was blown down, and the protective spell attached to the wall Without going through the process of resistance, it was torn apart by mayflies in the mist of mist covering the front of the fist. Behind the bricks and stones, a new space almost the same size as the office was exposed.

A line of dumb alchemy dolls came out of his pockets, waving special cleaning tools, and made the room dusty. After a while, it became as clean as Nelson's house. , although the style is still clumsy, but Nelson can finally set foot.

He walked back into the hall, and the dark stone door was still standing quietly. The magic wand in Nelson's hand was like a painter's paintbrush. During the dancing, the door of the office suddenly widened. He followed suit, using the method of moving the black door into the hall Moved it in again.

Nelson walked back. The alchemy doll had finished the finishing touches. The scattered bricks and stones had been cleaned up, and the furniture piled up in the corners had been moved out and placed in the room. Nobby Rich was not here. To fool people, the cinnabar-colored desk is so red that it exudes a thick texture. The materials and workmanship are extremely exquisite, and it looks very expensive.

A high-backed chair with a sharp point like a sharp sword was placed behind the desk, which looked a bit like the one he had shown at the Triwizard Tournament. The desk was neatly arranged with manuscript paper, ink bottles, and some For other stationery, a bookshelf covering the entire wall stood empty by the wall. Nelson walked to the high-backed chair and sat down. Behind him, he built a high platform similar to the underground of Auschwitz, and placed the black door tightly. go up.

An alchemy puppet that had completed its task climbed up the desk, trying to get back into his pocket, but was held down by Nelson. He shook his head at the puppet and threw it on the bookshelf.

"You all stay here."

As soon as the words fell, those little things that were still running all over the ground disappeared in an instant. Nelson took out a small silver ball from his pocket and cracked it on the desk. Thick books were stacked on the table. Nelson flipped through all the materials that Bee Ritchie could find related to the Department of Mysteries, and glanced at the titles and descriptions on the title pages. They quickly lined up one by one and flew to the bookshelf in chronological order.

After doing all this, he raised his wand, held up the parchment that Rich handed him, and whispered softly according to the words on it:

"I will search for the ultimate and keep silent."

When the last syllable fell, the parchment turned into a mass of streamers shining with runes, and flew to the door and attached it. Only Nelson can open the door.

"It's quite decent, with a sense of ceremony," Nelson shrugged, destroying the sense of ceremony that was finally brewing, "I don't know my classmates... oh no, what are my colleagues doing every day?"

His knuckles tapped the table regularly, and a small shiny silver ball appeared in his hand. The metal was as soft as plasticine in his hand. It was pulled into filaments for a while, pressed into thin sheets for a while, and soon, Silver threads thinner than hair were hung in the room. They gently brushed across the desk and bookshelf, doing the final inspection, until the silver thread passed the high-backed chair, a puff of smoke rose, and the chair He let out a moan as his magic power dissipated.

"Since everyone's curiosity can't be curbed," Nelson smiled and squeezed the new small silver ball into various shapes. The silver thread came out from the crack in the door and walked in all directions along the cracks in the stone wall. Nelson, who was sitting in the middle, was like an acromantula in the Forbidden Forest, waiting patiently for the web to be woven, "I can't be exempt... I'm so curious, I think it's just to strengthen the building structure by the way. "

The small silver ball in his hand is like a real life, looking for the fastest and most concealed path, extending towards a higher or deeper direction.

"Is it time for dinner?"

Nelson stuffed the small silver ball in the drawer, stood up, and walked out of the office. Looking at the still dark hall, he frowned, stretched out his wand and pointed at the center. The Goblet of Fire appeared in the center of the hall, and after being thrown into a spark, the bright flames ignited.

"Crunch—"

The sound of the door opening came from the rear of Nelson's side. He turned his head and saw the Boggart who had met once - the manager of the prophecy hall who was lucky enough to see his prophecy on the spot, and the only silent man he had ever seen.

The moment he saw Nelson's face, Boggart was like a rabbit seeing a natural enemy. He turned his head and was about to go into the hall of prophecy, but one hand was already pressing on the door. He raised his head with a bitter face, and looked When it came to the smiling Nelson, "W...Mr. Williams, long time no see."

Nelson could feel the palpable voice in his heart—"My God, this is so unlucky!"

This is the first time that this kind of experience of being considered unlucky, which made Nelson feel very novel, he looked at Boggart's eyes rolling around, and said with a smile: "Mr. Boggart, I said we will meet again of."

"You didn't say that." As the manager of the Prophecy Hall, Boggart has a memory far beyond that of ordinary people. He instantly recalled the experience of the day he met Nelson, shook his head seriously, and said with an emphasis, "You Really never said that."

"Oh? Really?" Nelson waved his hand, "Then I should have said you would be promoted?"

"It did."

"You're welcome."

"Why do I..." Boggart shook his head dejectedly, it could indeed be regarded as a "prophecy", and it came true, "Okay, thank you."

The first time he met Nelson, he just had an extra workload of prophecy, and it was still so explosive. Being cautious by nature, he only hoped that Nelson would stop doing such nonsense, and that this young man who was too young Colleagues know what it means to be cautious in words and deeds, not to mention that Nelson is one level higher than him in name.

Nelson looked at him and said, "I have something—"

"Don't talk about it! It's off work now!" Boggart subconsciously covered his ears. Mr. Boggart felt that if he really met a Boggart, then it might become an outrageous prophecy Nelson.

The surrounding gradually became quiet, and just as he let go of his hand, thankful that he had escaped unharmed, he was surprised to find that Nelson hadn't left yet. He opened his mouth to say something, and he hurriedly raised his arm again, but this time Nelson didn't give Taking this opportunity, he held him down immediately, "I want to ask where we should eat, Mr. Boggart."

Nelson closed the door intimately for him, and a silver light flashed away, making Boggart think it was an illusion brought by the fire.