My classmate at Hogwarts is Voldemort

Chapter 499

"Oh my god... is this magic? This portrait actually moves, it's like... a movie."

In front of him, a plump lady in a medieval dress was reclining on a bench and dozed off. She was in a lush sea of ​​flowers, intoxicated by the chirping of birds and insects that did not exist around her. As for the fact that only the butterflies that fly past her from time to time prove that the painting is alive.

The reporter crouched in front of the picture frame, under the dim light, staring at the flowing colors on the canvas with wide eyes, as if wanting to imprint both the paint and the texture of the canvas in his mind.

"What's the name of this painting...let me see." He stood on tiptoe, trying to get close to the top of the canvas
"Hmm... Mrs. Fat, what a vivid name."

Perhaps because of hearing her own name, the fat lady who took a nap reacted quickly, opening her slightly closed eyes.

But when she saw the scene in front of her from the twilight, she almost convulsed with fear, and when she opened her eyes, she could see a big face on the canvas, which was uncertain in the candlelight, just like her When I was young, I was used by my mother to scare the child-eating monster when I didn’t want to sleep, especially the face that was close to the canvas looked extraordinarily large from the painting, which scared her like a frightened rabbit. Rolling down, she was covered in dirty dirt and grass clippings, but she no longer cared about her appearance, she used her hands and feet to escape from the painting frame, yelling loudly as she crawled: "Help me!" Ah! Help! There are monsters! There are monsters!"

The voice became louder and louder, but the voice made out of fear became more and more indistinct. The reporter outside the picture frame was startled, his feet were unsteady, and he sat on the ground, moving back and forth with his butt. , I want to understand this picture frame with monsters.

Accompanied by the fat lady's exclamation, the faint candles in the corridor lit up, and the reporter calmed down a little bit. In this sudden fright, he showed a calmness far beyond ordinary people. He put his hands in his arms and watched vigilantly. Looking at the corridor that suddenly lit up, but there was no monster in the corridor, he didn't understand what the monster in the painting just called was.

His eyes carefully turned to the canvas again, and then, a pair of hands holding the picture frame appeared on the edge of the picture, half of the fat lady's head cautiously poked out, just in line with the reporter's gaze, and the next second, she Shrunk back, leaving only the smaller and smaller "Help" coming from the edge of the frame.

"Me?" He quickly understood what had happened before, pointed at his nose, and couldn't help but smile, "Sure enough, it's impolite to stare at a lady, but the characters in this painting can actually see the outside world And I reacted, the movie screen I understand is really too conservative... But I can't blame me, after all, isn't it a movie that first let us know about magic?"

He leaned against the wall and stood up, patted the dirt on his buttocks, and approached the empty picture frame again. He kept changing the angle in front of the picture frame, trying to see the scenery outside the picture, like a very I met a spectator who watched others sway their bodies from side to side when they were playing Quidditch, as if using somatosensory manipulation of players to avoid Bludgers.

In order to see it more clearly, he took out a lighter from his pocket, clicked it and held it in front of him, approaching the screen.

Coincidentally, the fat lady poked her head out again, this time she looked much calmer, but as soon as she poked her head out, she saw the monster that almost ate her again, this time the monster was even scarier than last time , with crooked mouth and slanted eyes, she looks like a madman, not to mention the lighter in her hand, she is just like a devil, the fat lady finally couldn't bear it, she rolled her eyes and fell limply, falling headfirst into her feet In the soft meadow.

The reporter raised the lighter, approached the woman who was suddenly unconscious on the road again, and stretched out her hand curiously, wanting to test whether the touch of the people in this painting is different from that of the paint.

His fingers trembled towards the Fat Lady, which was the most magical thing he had seen since coming to Hogwarts. Before that, except for the brick wall leading to platform nine and three quarters, he I haven't even seen a wizard's wand much. This school is so normal, so normal that it is not much different from any school in London. This is not what readers want to see.

A painting that moves?Something this fun is sure to pique interest!

Just when his fingertips were about to touch the canvas, the picture suddenly went dark, and the icy chill came from the canvas. Even without direct contact, his fingers had become numb due to frostbite, and he lost consciousness. Visible speed turned livid, and upon closer inspection, a fine layer of frost formed on the canvas, which looked like black ice in the dead corner of the light.

"Are you... polite?"

Hearing the questioning from behind, the reporter turned his head stiffly, and saw Tom's indifferent eyes behind a gargoyle sculpture he had just observed. With Tom's appearance, the hallway went dark again, and he seemed to blend into the It was dark like night, and the reporter felt a sense of fear of being watched by all-pervasive surveillance.

Suddenly there was a tingling sensation under his feet, and the reporter quickly lowered his head to look. He was horrified to find that the feet were densely piled up with strangely colored icy scales, and countless amber vertical pupils stared at him. In a hurry, it slipped from the palm of his hand and fell into the ground, illuminating the snake group that was already crowded on the floor for a moment, and was quickly swallowed by the sliding scales. He felt that the entangled touch had reached his ankles and was heading towards his knees.

The panic of "going deep alone" finally broke out at this moment. His hand hurriedly reached into his arms, but he touched a cluster of slippery scales. The next second, his palm was tightly entangled by a snake. The reporter pulled out his arm like crazy He waved it as if he was entangled, but the snake became tighter and tighter, strangling his metacarpal bone so painfully, finally, after the entire right arm was tightly wrapped, he could no longer move, and there was a feeling of restraint all over his body. Feeling the pain, an unbelievably long snake poked its head out from his shoulder, with a delicate small pistol in its mouth, slowly crawled up to Tom, and presented the seized murder weapon.

Tom lowered his head, took the gun from the mouth of the snake, tapped the trigger with his fingertips, spread his palms, pieces of parts fell, and disappeared among the dense snakes. He raised his head and asked with a smile on his face. Said: "Did you... find the toilet?"

"I found...I found it," the reporter nodded stiffly, his neck and mouth became the only movable parts of his body, and even his eyelids were gently picked up by the little snake, not allowing him to close his eyes to escape from this Everything, he felt a great sense of oppression, as if this is the normal state of Muggles when they face wizards, "Thank you... for showing me the way."

Seemingly satisfied with his answer, Tom nodded, and the snake locked around his throat loosened his body slightly, which relieved the reporter's red cheeks.

"You know, what are you doing?"

Tom tilted his head, pouted his mouth at the portrait beside the reporter, and asked, "During the interview, do you usually hit the lady who is the subject of the interview in disgust when she faints?"

"I'm not... I don't—"

"Maybe we can wait for the fat lady to wake up, ask her what happened just now, and then hand you over to the Wizengamot, so that you can get the privilege of interviewing the wizard's prison," Tom raised his hand, A snake covered the reporter's mouth, "By the way, the wizard's prison is not like yours. It has been empty for a long time. The only thing you can interview is the kind of villain who sees Muggles and tears them in half." gangsters, the jailers who will eat your soul."

"I... um." The reporter struggled violently. He couldn't imagine what a wizard's prison would be like. Such a snake-playing guy could stay outside safely. What kind of villains must be inside, but he Can't tell the picture, just trying to send a begging look, hoping that Tom can let him go.

"You almost killed someone just now," Tom paused, as if trying to remember what the reporter's name was, but after thinking about it for a long time, he still gave up. His memory didn't have this kind of knowledge. The little snake squeezed out with his personal ID in its mouth, and handed the press card to Tom, "Oh! Press card, I have seen a few copies before, it seems that you are not a fake, Mr. Wallace. "

"Hold...sorry, I don't know," the snake covering his mouth slid away from his face, and the reporter hurriedly said, "I really, really didn't know it was a real person, I thought she was like me It’s the same as the portraits and photos I’ve seen.”

"Really?" Tom shook his head. "The portraits of wizards are different from your photos. They all rely on magic to survive. If you burn her, she will really die. Mr. Wallace, since you As a guest, at least obey some rules of civilized people."

"I...you can just call me Mike." The reporter lowered his posture, although he didn't understand why some students happened to bump into him when they were wandering outside in the middle of the night, but it was just a moment of contact. He then understood that Muggles are basically helpless against wizards, and others can easily control him by playing with snakes!
"Oh? Mike, your name sounds like an American," Tom shook his head, his eyes suddenly became stern, and the faint smile on his face disappeared, "Aren't you here when Professor Dumbledore gave you The residence you arranged is preparing for tomorrow's interview outline, rest well, what are you doing in the castle in the middle of the night?!"

"I don't have anything—"

"Crack!" A picture book caught in his trouser belt fell out. Tom raised his hand, and the picture book flew into his hand lightly. He opened it and looked at it. The more he looked back, the more Tom felt It's funny.

"What are you doing?" He asked coldly, "Depict a panoramic map of Hogwarts? Have you prepared a set of blitz tactics to sneak in from the Black Lake?"

"No... This is just my personal hobby. I like sketching. I swear, this knowledge simply records the scenes I see. Before I came, Professor Dumbledore told me that Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was cast A magic that cannot be marked on the map."

"Really?" Tom flipped through Mike's sketchbook page by page. Sure enough, as he said, it was a scene sketch, but if these pictures were connected, "I can't draw a map, so I start to use my brain in other places." Did you draw the scenery along the railway, and draw all the intersections from Hogsmeade to Hogwarts Castle, you are really smart, but I am really curious, a school for minors , does it have such a high strategic position in your eyes?"

Seeing that the plan was seen through by Tom, Mike had a desperate expression on his face. He couldn't imagine how the Muggles would suffer from the wizard's anger after his behavior was revealed. It was already beyond debate.

It was supposed to be an extremely sophisticated plan, and even during the day he gave the sketchbook to a professor who was having dinner in the auditorium to watch. Woolen cloth?He was puzzled and fell into silence. He didn't notice at all that as he recalled, wisps of eye-catching silver smoke were oozing from his temples and being sucked by the little snake lying on his forehead.

"Please believe me, Mr. Riddle, we really have no malicious intentions, we are just afraid..."

"Your face makes me sick." Tom didn't move his legs, but he was supported by the snakes and approached him. The two stood face to face. Tom said coldly, "I always think that being a reporter is a noble profession." , I never thought there would always be someone like you."

After saying that, he raised his arm, and the wand slipped out of the cuff and fell into the palm of his hand. Mike closed his eyes tightly. Wizards are all murderous monsters. Thinking of this, his face became pale and sweat The beads slipped from the forehead.

"I don't want to make trouble at this time." The imaginary pain did not hit, he opened his eyes, and watched Tom stuff an unknown cloud of silver smoke into a crystal bottle, "You have to take care of yourself." Think about how to explain what happened tonight to Professor Dumbledore tomorrow."

Tom bent down and picked up the dropped lighter from the ground. Even though it was buried by snakes, there was still a faint flame dancing. He raised the fire and pointed it at the footer of the sketchbook, and the flame rose instantly. Reflected Mike's field of vision into a red.

The coldness in his palm made him lower his head, a small snake was coiled in his palm, slowly turning into an identical book.

"It's just that, since you're not pure...you've become useful instead."

These were the last words Mike heard from Tom. He looked blankly at Tom who raised his wand. Suddenly, a silver lightning struck his forehead. When he came back to his senses again, he heard the portrait Fierce accusations by the women in the middle.

He opened his eyes, and he was lying by the wall surrounded by some disheveled professors who seemed to have just woken up. He looked around blankly.

"I just...was I looking at a painting?"

(End of this chapter)