My Classmate at Hogwarts is Voldemort

"Woo, I really just go home and have a look, my hometown is here, woo..."

Troka, the vampire bar owner in London, was sitting on Borgin Bock, with a basket of bread and several plates of vegetables and meat in front of him, sobbing with red eyes.

His clothes were tattered, the original style could no longer be seen, his body was dirty, and the color of the clothes could not be seen. His exposed skin was covered with healed or healing wounds, which were visible to the naked eye. What healed at a fast speed were all small scratches, as if they had just been thrown into a thorn bush and rolled around.

Don't get me wrong, he wasn't crying. A normal vampire's eyes were red, and the reason he was speaking in a crying voice was because his mouth was stuffed with food.

He even ignored the process of swallowing the food, and just stuffed it into his mouth. This appearance has completely transcended the vampire race, and he is officially heading towards the starving ghost.

"Can vampires eat?" Nagini couldn't bear the curiosity in his heart, and whispered in Nelson's ear.

"Wuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu Miss," Troka swallowed the food in his mouth with great difficulty, and took time out of his busy schedule to answer, "Vampires can eat, but it's far less effective than blood. I need to fill my stomach, and I will go to the forest to catch some fresh blood later."

"Vampires have very sensitive hearing." Nelson added, looking at Troka who started to gobble up again, it was difficult for him to connect the down-and-out tramp in front of him with the handsome bar owner who had met once.

"Are you going to catch an animal in the forest and chew it raw?" Tom, who was occupied by Nagini, stood with his hands folded, twitching the corners of his mouth and looking at Troka, his eyes full of disgust, "I thought Vampires who call themselves nobles only drink human blood."

"It's faster." Troka raised his head and argued helplessly, "I don't usually do this. After all, I can't find any high-quality blood food around. You may not know that the taste of most people's blood is as good as Very poor quality."

He hiccupped without image and patted his stomach with satisfaction. It was very different from the image Nelson saw in the bar for the first time. He looked around secretly and licked his lips, as if he was thinking about the people present. How does it taste, but after carefully weighing the risks, Troka's eating habits have become extremely determined to become animal blood.

"Don't you have one under your ass?" Tom pouted, squinting to indicate that Troka's chair is a big living person, and added, "But don't suck him dry, I still have some questions for him."

"Under my butt?" Troka reacted, looked at Borgin Bock, who was tightly bound by rattan under the seat, and retched all of a sudden, "Ugh... this is not a human, he put it on his own Poison in the blood!"

"Poison the blood?" Nelson raised his eyebrows, stretched out his legs and gently poked the motionless Borgin Burk with his toes, and asked, "Did you suck his blood?"

"Yeah," Troka's eyes were full of regret, "When he attacked me next to the forest at the beginning, we were attacked by a humble—"

Seeing Rowena passing by, his words suddenly stopped, swallowed and continued, "In order to avoid further damage to the beautiful forest, that kind and beautiful lady took away the magic wand of this madman, And parted us briefly."

"So you have been entangled with a wizard without a wand for so long?" Tom wondered, "I didn't expect that Bojin Burke was a figure comparable to Dumbledore, and he could beat an adult vampire with his bare hands. so!"

"I'm not! I don't!" Troka shook his head vigorously, "We vampires have a special magic that can temporarily control the bitten person by sucking blood, but when I inhaled his blood, I felt powerless and just It's like taking a sip of the old garbage that has been brewed in the sewer next to the tavern for a summer..."

Tom hooked his fingers, and one of the vines binding Borgin Bock broke. On the exposed pale skin, a small bloodstain slowly emerged, and a drop of dark red thick blood squeezed out from the wound, sticky It didn't drip until it scabbed over.

Tom looked at Nelson and nodded slightly.

"How did he know that the sewer smelled like a summer's worth of old garbage?" Nagini, who had become a bit talkative because he had regained his language skills, began to whisper to Nelson again, "I've been in the sewer for so long, I don’t even know what that stuff tastes like.”

Troka, who is sensitive to hearing, glanced at Nagini, his face as ugly as eating garbage from the sewer, turned to Tom, and continued, "His blood is really poisonous, not only because it tastes bad, I swallowed it. I almost got poisoned to death by him... wait, what did you just say?"

"What did you say?"

"You just said his name is Borgin Bock?" Troka's face was full of suspicion, "How do you know his name is Borgin Bock? Did he tell you too?"

"Isn't it?" Tom felt that the vampire might have hurt his brain due to hunger, and he was a little impatient, but he explained patiently, "You may not know that Borgin Burke is a magic shop in Knockturn Alley— "

"Of course I know!" Troka interrupted Tom, which made his expression even more unhappy, but he didn't notice Tom's expression at all, and just said to himself, "How can we creatures in the dark Not dealing with Knockturn Alley? I’ve seen Borgin Bock! More than once! He’s told me it’s him more than once, but I’m pretty sure this guy isn’t the Borgin Bock I’ve seen!”

"Um?"

Nelson and Tom lowered their heads at the same time, staring at the motionless man under Troka's buttocks. Except for the vines that Tom had just cut open, only his nostrils and eyes were exposed, and those eyes were familiar to the two of them. As if they were breaking up, one of them looked forward blankly, while the other eye with tiny pupils but emitting a breathtaking blue light was turning crazily, turning to the back of the head from time to time, already observing the surrounding environment at a glance.

"May I have your name?"

Nelson stood up from the chair, leaned on the back of the chair and walked carefully to the blue demon, and cut open the vine that sealed his mouth with his wand.

A pair of thick lips that were completely different from the impression was slowly revealed, and the bound person couldn't wait to speak:

"My name is Borgin Bock."

"The sound is different," commented Tom.

"But the tone is exactly the same," Nelson added. "The articulation, the pronunciation, the emotion, it's all the same."

"Borgin Bock ought to be dead."

"Maybe the Horcrux was not destroyed, it was regenerated by relying on the fragments of the soul, and got a body."

"The Horcrux of Caractacus?" Tom reached into his pocket and took out a small lead box engraved with runes. "That eyeball is here."

"He may have many horcruxes, just like Haierbo," Nelson said. "It turns out that when a person is crazy enough, his soul can be divided many times."

Hearing Haierbo's name, the frantically rolling eyeball paused.

Tom nodded thoughtfully, and pulled out his wand from his sleeve to point at the lead box. With the sound of gears rubbing, the lead box was slowly opened under the drive of the spring, and a well-preserved wand in the eye socket of the bound man on the ground The same blue eyeball lay quietly inside.

After he took out the lead box, the person suspected of Bokin Burk didn't do anything special, but when Tom opened the lead box, he began to struggle violently, and even threw Troka who was sitting on him directly. to the ground.

"Give it to me." He said the most urgent words in the most flat tone, like a printed letter.

"You don't seem to understand the current situation." Tom closed the lead box, threw it aside, bent down, and looked at the people on the ground jokingly, "I don't know why you call yourself Borgin Bock, But for using that name, you have to pay for it, and now, you are the one bound and thrown to the ground."

"Let me see what you look like." Nelson held his wand and gently brushed it across his face, a crack appeared, and the vine spread out along the cut, under the curious eyes of the two , an ordinary face was revealed except for the eyes—a downcast face that would hardly be found a second time if thrown into the crowd, Nelson said softly, "You may not have thought, People with this name have a lot of hatred against us."

"I..." The man who called himself Borgin Burke finally had some emotions in his words, which is the instinctive fear of human beings, but soon, his tone became flat again, "You are Chamberlain and Karkaroff, That’s where my familiarity comes from.”

"Yo? It's really you?" Nelson raised his eyebrows, and began to think in his heart how Borgin Bock escaped from the sky and changed his face.

"But it's just your pseudonym." Bojin Burke said without thinking, "Nelson Wertning Williams, in the 1943 annual collection of "Today's Transfiguration" has Your photo, the title of your thesis is "Overview of the Principle of Prolonging Transfiguration Time and Thoughts on Permanent Transfiguration" and "Amplification of Transfiguration Magic by Ancient Runes and the Insufficiency of the Application", the recommender is Minerva McGonagall .”

"I didn't expect you to be a dark wizard who loves to learn." Nelson raised his eyebrows.

"Tom Marvolo Riddle." Borgin Burke cast his gaze on Tom, "Horace Slughorn's favorite student, regular member of the Slug Club, destined Hogwarts graduate. "

"You're the narrator?" Tom frowned.

"I thought that your sudden wealth was due to the sponsorship of a certain big family. Now it seems that selling antiques in Knockturn Alley as Chamberlain is your real source of income. No one has ever linked you together... The Gaunts are direct descendants of Slytherin, so it's only logical that you have Slytherin treasures."

"what do you want to say?"

"I know your true identities. This must be something you don't want to reveal. If you are stubborn, the result will definitely not be what you want to see," Bojin Burke wanted to make a winning expression, but he was stiff His facial muscles are not enough to support him to make such a movement, "Our interests do not conflict, and we even have a lot in common, and last time Karaktakus Bok and I both paid enough, we completely Everyone can get what they need, and you two weak people, no matter how powerful you are, shouldn't refuse our help."

"Interesting," Tom asked, tossing the lead box back and forth with an "I'm interested" expression, "Tell me, what do you want?"

"Give me that eye!" Borgin Bock breathed heavily, closed his mouth, and swallowed hard.

"What else?" Tom raised his eyebrows, slipped his hand, and the lead box fell to the ground, "Such as Slytherin's treasure? Slytherin's magic? Or what you wanted to get if you killed us before .”

"This is my sincerity." Borgin Bock tried his best to look sincere, and said respectfully, "Our previous behavior must have made it difficult for the two of you to trust again, but please believe that we have recognized ourselves. "

"You really don't want anything?"

"If you want to get in touch with us more closely," Borgin Bock said after a long silence with the crazily turning blue eyes staring at Tom above his head, "maybe you can provide us with some insignificant help , such as some magic that can be obtained, potions or antiquities that you want to replace with other things, and even some information, such as I seem to have heard the name of the great Hai Erbo just now... If you want more Related, or other valuable news, I promise you can get everything you want."

"I have some valuable news." Nelson said suddenly.

"What?" Borgin Bock asked eagerly.

"Do you know when a person who has been masked takes it off?" Nelson asked, before waiting for an answer. "When there is no need to disguise, for example, I would feel that there is no need to be conservative when facing a dead person." Secret, because I can silence the dead."

"I can definitely pass on your real identities." Borgin Bock said confidently, "I don't mind your offense, as long as-"

"As long as I can catch them, isn't it?" Nelson raised his hand and snapped his fingers, and several mayflies wrapped in the fog of mist flew towards him from the forest with translucent eyeballs, "by the soul shards escaped to deliver a message? It's as stupid as it gets."

It's midnight at the second watch, everyone, let's watch it tomorrow when we wake up.