My Classmate at Hogwarts is Voldemort

"Interesting guy."

Tom plunged headlong into the unknown door, and even Helbo at the other end was shocked by his courage or recklessness.

"As a barbarian outside the peninsula, it is really gratifying that you can independently study your magic without a mentor, and develop your magic to such an extent that you can defeat my servant... You are right , why can't I be a god?"

Tom raised his head, and the surrounding scenery was covered by hazy mist, leaving only an endless staircase extending upwards in front of him.

"I'm researching a magic that can see through people's hearts," Haierbo's voice sounded in his ears, "Maybe soon, your wisdom will be available to me."

He made no secret of his absolute desire to control, and did not shy away from the final fate of those who offered "loyalty", but Tom still heard a trace of expectation from his tone, a trace of hope that Tom could show a different performance from others. expect.

"Tell me, what are you best at?"

The mist was inhaled into Tom's stomach, and his spirit even fell into a trance for a moment. In the lair of the most despicable dark wizards, these traps that are sinister and vicious are placed everywhere, even if he always instinctively maintains his brain. Occlusion technique, Haierbo's interrogation also resounded in the depths of his soul like a magic voice piercing his brain.

"I?"

Tom struggled to resist the weakness brought about by the environment, and held the gold coin in his hand tightly. The cold touch made him sober up a lot. His left hand flipped dexterously. The pattern extended a dazzling flower bush. He lowered his head, feeling the tremors from the gold coins. After a moment of silence, he raised his head and looked straight at the endless steps in front of him. His eyes went up step by step until he saw become blurred.

...

Pythia sat with her head down in the small room on the top of the tower, facing a round dusty coffee table, and secretly raised her head to glance at Nelson from time to time.

There are no blueprints, no magic materials, no books here, just a small nest specially built by mayflies for him to rest, but judging from the thick dust on the ground and on the table, he has never been here once since it was built rested.

Pythia looked worriedly at Nelson's swollen eye bags and thick dark circles, and she couldn't help but began to recall what she had done this month and even after she moved to the Temple of Apollo—except for recording some incomprehensible oracles, feeling uneasy Waiting for the hero to save the world, day after day of endless anxiety, she didn't do anything, and she couldn't do anything.

But the traveler from the future in front of me is already thinking about this era that does not belong to him. Pythia can't understand the purpose and principle of the instruments in the tower, but she can also guess that Nelson He has spent too much energy on the issues that should have been her concern. He obviously has his own era to save, he can ignore everything, and he can use more cruel methods, but he didn't choose to do this, but Silently closed the door of the fortress, carrying the future of the two worlds on his shoulders.

She noticed that on Nelson's hand holding the tray, there were two thick calluses on the two joints opposite the index finger and middle finger, and she began to imagine in her mind what Nelson had done during the time when he locked himself in the bunker— —He would wave that magical wand over and over again to practice the magic that might be used repeatedly, and he would draw at his desk under the ever-burning night light, sketching out the sketch of the "Idol" she had just seen.

He is trying to defeat a person who is as invincible as a god in this era with a method that is unimaginable like a god, and even endured the pain of watching his best friend step into danger with his own eyes.

"In our time, people are best at bringing gods down from their pedestals."

Nelson said as if he could read his mind, walked to the table, and put the tray containing two cups of tea on the table. The green tea was rippled, and Pythia was in a daze. How about such a greenery?

Nelson pointed to the cup close to him, and a stream of water flowed out of the cup, dexterously jumped onto the table, and spread it into an extremely thin "cloth" in an instant, wiped the dust clean, and evaporated it. He pulled out the chair, sat opposite Pythia, took a sip from the teacup, his chapped lips were moistened, and his face became more bloody: "Taste it, this is my... er, a friend The prepared potion can make you see and hear."

Pythia held the teacup with both hands, the tea was a little hot, but she didn't even know the simplest magic to cut off the temperature, but she still endured the burning pain and held the teacup tightly and didn't let go. Seeing this, Nelson frowned slightly , pointing to her cup with her wand.

"Taste it," Nelson said with a flash of disappointment in his eyes, "take a sip."

Pythia took a small sip following Nelson's example. The boiling hot tea almost made her cry out, but she was quickly stunned. As it keeps falling down, it becomes icy cold, and when it is swallowed, a refreshing chill spreads along the entire chest. I thought of those dusty and almost forgotten pasts that had been affected by sulfur vapor and mist over the years, in memories filled with chaotic oracles and restless trifles.

"Your friend is a very good person!" She nodded vigorously, affirming, "She must be a very good person."

"Well……"

Nelson shrugged noncommittally.

The small room quickly fell into silence. Nelson drank the tea in the cup in one gulp, leaving only a sip of clear tea bottom, and leaned back in the chair. In a month, the short hair on his forehead was enough to cover his eyes. Shut your eyes.

"Do you have something to tell me?"

Pythia put down the teacup and looked at Nelson.

"Isn't this cup of tea good?"

Nelson didn't answer, but asked a question instead.

"Thanks."

Pythia nodded vigorously, the memory buried in her heart was rushing towards her like a tide, she stood helplessly on the shore, her ankles were already submerged by sea water.

The starfish crawled on her calf, and its leech-like sucker penetrated deeply into her skin. In the blue sea, a bright red was slowly blooming.

Like a desperate person begging for death, she took steps towards the more difficult deep sea. There, a shirtless boy was hugging the girl in his arms tightly, holding a With straight and slender fangs like javelins, the corpse of a serpentine siren was floating in the water around the two of them. The penetrating wound on the chest was rotting and spreading under the bite of fish, like a hole leading directly to death.

There were tears in the boy's eyes. The girl in his arms was already breathless. The thin long skirt was tightly attached to her body, outlining a beautiful line. His tears were full of sorrow, and he was screaming vigorously But in the deep sea, those mournful and indignant cursing voices only turned into bubbles rising from the surface of the sea, which burst fragilely and disappeared without a trace.

The corpse of the sea monster got closer and closer, and finally strangled the two of them tightly together. The boy's eyes showed a brutal look like a beast, and he bit its rotten wound with his bland teeth. Scratched by sharp and hard scales, his teeth fell off and rotted piece by piece, his mouth was full of blood, and he couldn't tell whether it was the poisonous blood of the sea monster or his own blood.

The huge waves in the sea condensed into a group of towering cliffs, and rushed down in front of Pythia, and slammed her unsteady body into the sea. She felt a kind of tranquility that she had never had before, as if Resting in the mother's womb, the sound of the small waves, the singing of the conch, and the thumping of the fish all poured into her ears, forming a sentence that was suppressed by the oracle without seeing the light of day, or tense negotiations, or It is a heart-to-heart greeting, or a sweet talk, or a pungent curse, or a long time no see sigh, like a crazy horse in the mountains, going uphill for a while, and rolling down the cliff for a while.

They are so real, so frightening to her, making her dare not face them, making her tremble all over, she tried her best to open her eyes, but in the middle of the sea, her eyes were indeed scarlet, her eyelids were like hands made of sea water. Brutally provoking her, not letting her close her eyes, not letting her run away, the blood in the water kept approaching her, outlining a story of a boy who slayed a dragon and finally turned into a dragon, and that story was just like a needle , wrapped in a pain more majestic than death, pierced straight towards her eyeballs.

She was in despair. The city-state and walls that had been carefully built with sand in her heart for many years collapsed, and the moat was filled with stinky poisonous blood. She resisted magic, fate, and everything related to the past. Walking, on the contrary, she kept accumulating strength during her years of self-exile, waiting to completely devour her.

The memories that bound her past, her soul, and her wisdom condensed into an entity indistinguishable from a siren, and swooped towards her with mocking screams!

Pythia in the water let go of her tightly clenched hands, and let the sea water pour into her lungs, oppressing her heart, her eyes became blurred, her pupils were swallowed by the gushing white mist, her soft and curly long hair The seaweed spread out, and the tears fell from the corners of the eyes, like gems, floating upwards, lined up like broken pearl necklaces, drifting farther and farther away.

Just a second before her vision was suffocated into darkness, she saw a pair of hands reaching down from the water.

The instinct of survival and escape drove her to drain the last drop of strength from her body and soul, and she tightly held the hand with newly calloused index and middle fingers.

"boom!"

There was a thunder in the water, and she also came back to reality in a tremor, panting heavily, and looked at Nelson who was holding a teacup opposite. A dense white mist was gushing out of the cup, but through the mist, they could still see each other clearly The eyes of the other party are more than two thousand years apart.

"Do you remember it?"

Nelson drank the last tea bottom, milky white steam filled his pupils, like the cauldron of wizards, Pythia showed a miserable smile, nodded weakly, her eyes were as loose as a broken egg, But she had never been so lucid, and Nelson, looking at the priestess's face, connected her for the first time to the statue at the hideout's entrance.

"Congratulations," Nelson put down his teacup, stretched out his hand, palm up in front of Pythia, "I need your memory, everything you dare not face."

"You really don't need to face them," Pythia lowered her head, her voice was muffled, she was different from before, "As you said, I won't cause trouble for your era."

"Tom is only one step away from Hai Erbo."

Nelson didn't continue to persuade, but just raised his hands steadily, waiting for Pythia's answer.

"You may have never realized that a young man who was born as a slave can use the name of God to represent His power in the world. What a wonderful experience it was at that time..."

Pythia lowered her head, speaking in a calm tone what she was least willing to mention.

"Those mortals who are not favored by the gods will only bend over to work on their land, plan food in the barren mountain land, and feed the fullest grains to the goats. Cut off the freshest and fattest meat from the legs and put it on the altar, even the gods will not take a look at it." Her voice trembled, "We are too close to the gods, only one step away, but therefore, to the gods In other words, I am just his lamb, his fish, he...Helbo, he wants to do what you just said, to pull God down from the altar."

"But he looked at the empty throne," Nelson said in a deep voice, "is it different from before?"

"Feel sorry."

Pythia's tone was full of bitterness, she raised her head, revealing a tear-soaked face that had been haggard for several years.

"I have repeatedly escaped under the guidance of fate, but did not realize that this may be the most vicious curse."

She raised her trembling arm and put her slender hand in Nelson's palm. Milky white steam seeped from her fingertips, pouring into Nelson's hand like a stream flowing into a river or a river flowing into the sea.

...

Feeling the tremor coming from the coin in his hand, Tom raised his eyebrows in surprise, but the expression only lasted for a moment and then disappeared. Soon, he raised his head and pressed his thumb on the laurel emblem. There was a faint, fingerprint-like shimmer, and Nelson's voice came clearly from the small silver ball in his ear.

He raised his head, his eyes that became drowsy due to the influence of magic power became clearer, and the endless steps in his eyes came to an abrupt end, leading to the door that really faced Haierbo in the bounded distance, the black fog that blocked his sight Penetrated with ease, the buildings on top of the hill also become clear.

It was a holy and majestic white temple exactly the same as the Temple of Apollo, but its gate was replaced by the ferocious jaw of a giant snake. Paired with the temple, it is full of weirdness and profanity, but reveals a majesty that has nothing to do with the gods.

Tom's pupils stopped trembling, and became extremely firm. He grinned at the gate of the temple.

At this moment, he and Nelson in his ears made exactly the same movements, said exactly the same words, and cast exactly the same eyes on Hai Erbo.

"The magic I'm best at is prophecy."