My Classmate at Hogwarts is Voldemort

"You killed him?"

Rich stared wide-eyed, regardless of Auror's dissuasion, pushed open the iron bars of the prison, rushed to Shafik's side, stretched out his hand, sniffed his breath, and after a pause for a few seconds, he turned around dumbfounded. He turned his head, staring at the wand in Nelson's hand.

"As I said, he committed suicide and died in a disgraceful manner. I just happened to be at the right time," Nelson frowned, and said, "I just happened to pass by here."

Rich let go of his hand, Shafiq's neck limply went limp, and the head of the justice slipped from his hand and fell on the cold back of the chair. He couldn't accept this fact anyway—a man who had been pressed for several years The person who made him breathless, even after being sent to Azkaban, was as difficult to touch as a hot potato, so he died like this. Rich thought that Shafiq would at least leave Azkaban through operation before he died. Zkaban, die with dignity in the sun.

He brought Nelson to Azkaban, so why didn't he have the idea of ​​inducing conflict between the two and solving Shafiq's heart trouble, but seeing this dead man who personally promoted him to become a minister and taught him how to play with power , but he couldn't feel happy in his heart.

"Minister Rich, what's the matter with you?"

Nelson noticed that there was something wrong with his mood, and the cold discomfort around him was getting stronger and stronger. Those well-trained Aurors who blocked the periphery could not even summon a complete Patronus, and were taken away from their wands, waiting to be identified Almost all of the suspects had been consumed by the terror of the dementors.

"Call God to protect you!"

He frowned, and with a wave of his arm, a silver falcon flew out from his sleeve, and rushed fiercely at the approaching dementor. The light of the patron saint was sharper and brighter than when he summoned it, like a sword Like a blade, it twisted the black mist that came with the dementor into pieces of wreckage, and those jailers who had long been accustomed to the patron saint were awakened by their instinctive fear when they saw this silver falcon , running in the direction they came from.

The air in the castle soon became less icy, and the Aurors were able to free up their hands, forming patches of silver mist to drive away the disobedient dementors.

Rich felt much better. He raised his head, glanced at Nelson gratefully, sighed, and said, "Such a character will not commit suicide, no matter how poor he is, how unbearable he is."

"He will," Nelson said, pouting from Shafiq's dangling arm. "Look under his nails, there's a sharp blade, and that's what he used to kill himself."

Rich lifted Shafiq's arm, and a blood-stained glare came into view from the nail crevice of his right index finger. The blade inserted deep into the nail cap felt itchy on his back just by looking at it. What kind of People would hide the blade in this kind of place? Isn't he afraid of pain?

Rich pinched the edge of the blade, resisting the discomfort in his heart, and pulled it out, bringing out a few drops of dried blood. Shafik's still warm body twitched instinctively. Rich was startled, and the blade It flew out of his hand and stuck at Nelson's feet.

He lowered his head and looked at the piece of blood-covered metal. He could vaguely see that it was not a real blade, but a badge that had been polished to a sharp point. The silver texture made Nelson think it was the same Garter as himself The knight order medal, but upon closer inspection, it turned out to be a corner of the family crest of the Shafik family. His own.

"Judge Shafiq will not commit suicide." Rich shook his head firmly.

"But the fact is that he committed suicide," Nelson was a little dissatisfied, co-author I just talked to you for a long time was all nonsense? His tone became so polite, "Master, if you want to watch it, I can play a video for you."

"No, you don't understand what I mean," Rich shook his head, "His life is not only his own, if he dies, we will really have less resistance, and the person who killed him will reap the rewards." It has been the habit of wizards for thousands of years to invest in a large number of people and go to the strong."

"Then congratulations, Mr. Murderer Minister."

Nelson really didn't want to stay here any longer, so he waved his wand and disappeared in place, leaving behind a light "It's time to get off work".

...

When Nelson returned to the Nicklaus mansion, he was suddenly exhausted. It was obvious that today he just cleaned the office, laid a net to wrap the Ministry of Magic building, and went on a business trip, but he felt More tiring than going through an exam week at Hogwarts.

"Is this what it feels like to go to work?" He scratched his head, pushed away the people in the garden under the gaze of his neighbors, and greeted the hard-working alchemy puppets in the garden. Looking at the pleasing symmetry of the garden, he finally I felt a little better, "But I obviously didn't do anything?"

In the house, Thomson was sitting lovelessly on the sofa in the living room, surrounded by billowing dust, and the little alchemists waving brooms and mops were cleaning in full swing. He had almost nowhere to set his feet. The alchemy puppet holding the vacuum device passed by his feet and touched Tom's shoe with the handle. He responded and lifted his feet helplessly to give them a working position.

As the footsteps outside the door got closer and closer, these little puppets increased their happiness speed, and the sundries and dust around them were disappearing at a speed visible to the naked eye. The floor and furniture became spotless. When turning from the outside, the puppets who happened to finish all the work got back to a corner he couldn't see, and Tom could finally put down his tingling legs. He wanted to put his feet directly on the table, but he couldn't see In order to see the tabletop which was clean enough to be used as a mirror, he still put his feet on the ground.

"God, you're back," Tom looked up, and looked at Nelson who pushed the door in and was rubbing the soles of his shoes on the floor mat at the door. After seeing that Nelson's hands were empty, he curled his lips in disappointment. "The surroundings have changed too much. I haven't been to London for a year, and the surrounding restaurants and shops have disappeared. It's outrageous, you know? Mrs. Cole used to take us to eat when rewarding children with good grades The hot dog shop turned into a flannel shop, and there wasn't a place for miles around where you could sit down and eat."

"The bombing here was the least before, so the land rent has increased more or less after the war," Nelson stood at the same place, looking at the clean and tidy house, showing a satisfied smile, and said, "so those shops with low profits It can’t continue to open, but some high-profit businesses want to set up a shop here, and many people think that this place can bring good luck to their business.”

"Seriously?" Tom found it difficult to understand, "Can the surrounding residents afford the goods in those stores? What antique gold, what gem jewelry, none of them are usable, in our block, except for this row There are only an orphanage and a church left for immigrants from France, who will buy those things? At least one restaurant for us to eat."

"As you said, everyone's conditions are not good, who would go outside for a dental festival?" Nelson blinked, "Didn't you eat all day today?"

He took off his coat and hung it on the coat hanger at the door. He used a feather duster beside him to shake the dust from Azkaban on the hem of the coat. When the little blue flames flicked up and went out, burning the filthy dust to ashes, he took off his soft felt hat, buttoned it on his overcoat, and went to the kitchen.

"Of course not, I won't starve myself to death, didn't you save some breakfast for me in the morning? I slept until noon and ate it," Tom yawned, looking like he was still awake , he tilted his head and shouted in the direction of the kitchen, "Have you finally realized that you are going to cook for me?"

"Bang! Zi..."

The sound of the popping cork and the bursting of bubbles resounded in the kitchen. Not long after, Nelson walked back to the living room with a bottle of dripping butter beer that was freezing cold. He gave Tom a strange look and said, : "I can't believe you didn't eat dinner."

"Oh, I'm so disappointed, Nel," Tom shook his head, accusing Nelson in an exaggerated tone, raised his arms under his head, leaned on the back of the sofa, and said lightly, "I wanted to go to the opposite corner. Lane dealt with it, but just in the afternoon Dumbledore sent an owl with a message."

"What? You ate it?" Nelson put the butter beer he took a sip on the open space of the coffee table, picked a more comfortable seat and sat down, "When did your taste become the same as Nagini's?" Unique?"

"What nonsense are you talking about?" Tom shook his head, "I gave it a few Galleons, and asked it to go to Diagon Alley to help me order a meal, just as we were with Minerva Flitwick and the others. The shop where I ate... Didn't you even bring me a bottle of butterbeer? I thought you wouldn't watch me die of thirst here and go to the Ministry of Magic for a day, and you become so philistine ?”

"I suggest you trick another owl into sucking blood," Nelson rolled his eyes, raised his hand and snapped his fingers. A mayfly buzzed out of his pocket, hanging a bottle he bought from Diagon Alley. The infinite refill Coke that came, threw it into Tom's arms, "I brought you this."

"Oh! I like this stuff." Tom also began to drink "ton ton".

"By the way, what message did Professor Dumbledore bring?"

Tom lowered his head, rummaged through the messy tabletop, and quickly found a crumpled piece of paper, and said, "He said that Alphard was injured a little bit, and he sent him to St. Mungo's. Let us be free." Go and see him...he won't be seriously injured, right? I saw he vomited a lot of blood."

"Uh..." Nelson didn't know how to answer him for a moment.

"What's the matter?" Tom raised his eyebrows, "Did you still find time to see him? He can't be in bad condition."

"Now...it should be pretty bad," Nelson recalled the expression on Borrox's face when he walked into the ward, and shook his head, "It should be okay at first, I remember being able to brag about his glorious experience with his patients , but I could no longer hear the sound in the ward when Mr. Black entered."

"Oh, that's all right," said Tom, closing his eyes and continuing to nod off. "He's really, really dying on that mouth."

"I think so too."

"How's life in the Ministry of Magic?" After drinking Coke for a while, Tom put away the bottle and asked curiously, "Did someone bribe you?"

"Unfortunately, no." Nelson shook his head, crossed his legs, picked up the newspaper on the table and read it, "No one dares to approach the Department of Mysteries, let alone find and bribe me. gone."

"That's a pity." Tom didn't just say it, he really regretted it, "I used to think that you would start from the position of secretary of the minister or something, and you will get the moon first if you are close to the water, you know."

"Fortunately," Nelson scanned the first edition of "Witches vs. Minotaur" lace news, and turned to the next edition, "I am also happy to be free, which office is no different from a real chamber of secrets, I have already An eyeliner has been laid to monitor the Ministry of Magic, and many things can be done there in the future."

"Why don't you let those who are loyal to you do it?" Tom asked, "Umbridge told me before that there are many people in the Ministry of Magic who suddenly appeared in the past few years, and she wants to find them I took credit for the evidence, but there has been no progress, I guess it is either a wizard from Nurmengard, or someone from your side."

"They are not suitable for doing these things," Nelson said, shaking his head, "Since the Ministry of Magic can detect them, they will not be afraid of them doing things. That building is not a paradise occupied by fools, at least the one that holds most of the power. People are not fools, even if it is me, someone always pays attention to it.”

"I seriously doubt your idea," Tom snorted disdainfully, "tsk, don't you overestimate their abilities a little bit?"

"It doesn't hurt to be careful," Nelson finally found a useful piece of news in the corner of the second page-"Hogwarts School Board Claims to Expand Coverage of Book of Access", "and this Isn't this kind of surveillance that is discovered the most perfect concealment, not to mention... In their view, our cause is noble, and such shady things should be left to soulless magic."

"I really don't understand why you always like to intrigue with people. You always give me a feeling of fighting against the air. Even I have been influenced by you. Now I even start to expand my social circle," Tom spread his hands, "If I were you, I might have captured the Ministry of Magic long ago."

"What I want to do is not to subvert the world. Anyone who does not conflict with me can become an ally. On weekends, we can go to Diagonal Alley," Nelson said, "You will know when the time comes, actually Most people have no conflict of interest."

"It just so happens that Hogwarts is on vacation."

...

"Oh, by the way, there is something I didn't tell you."

When the dusk gradually came, Nelson poked his head out of the small room where the "dingling clang" kept ringing, and said to Tom in the living room.

"What is it?"

"Shafiq is dead."