My Classmate at Hogwarts is Voldemort

"Let's go two, let's eat with the children." Mrs. Cole stood up from behind the desk and glanced at the camera hanging on Nelson's chest. "Are you here to take a photo with everyone with this?" "

　　 "Yes, Mrs. Cole." Nelson took a step and opened the door for her. Tom waited at the door and made a "please go first" gesture.

　　 "Are there any taboos? The flash of this camera is not dazzling. In fact, keeping your eyes open will not affect your vision." Nelson repeated the boss's line when he promoted the product.

"Nothing..." As she passed Nelson, Mrs. Cole turned her head and took a deep look at him. These two young boys who were still learning words when they first came, have now grown to be as tall as hers." I mean, this may be the only photo taken by some of them in their lives. I hope you have better skills."

　　 Nelson twisted a **** on the camera. He recalled the instructions Youngor had ordered in the store. According to him, this **** allowed the film to be adjusted back and forth between moving and stationary.

　　...

"This magic camera uses advanced alchemy, and the photos it takes often have magical powers that ordinary cameras don't have." Youngor showed him the simple buttons on the camera. "This is the shutter. This is... well, anyway. Just don’t care about this button. This **** can determine the shape of the photo—moving or static. These knobs are used to adjust the iris. You may not have this. I will lock it for you. You just need to stand here. Take...er..." He walked a few steps forward, standing two or three steps away from the opposite shelf, "It's fine to take pictures of such a far away scene."

"The moving photos are the result of the magic potion, but aren't the stationary photos just ordinary photos?" Nelson turned the **** to the "still" side, and pressed the shutter to take a picture at Youngor, a burst of white light and white light. After the smoke passed, an ordinary photo was spit out from the top of the camera.

"It's just an ordinary photo." He frowned and looked at the embarrassed shopkeeper with suspicion. If it hadn't been for the Polaroid's creativity for decades and the price was really cheap, he might have turned and left. Up.

"I'm just a seller, not a manufacturer. Production, distribution, and consumption are different links that are difficult to intersect with each other, you know," the shop owner began to entangle himself, "but it is magical. I promise. I will open a shop. It's definitely not for making money."

Nelson rolled his eyes, picked up the camera and prepared to leave. He didn't open the shop to make money. He listened too much, just like Professor Sykes had already used a flying curse to attract Alphad's empty parchment. He would still say bluntly, "I wrote it, but I didn't bring it!" It was like going for a walk in the evening to the fruit shop to buy oranges and asking the owner if they were sweet. The owner peeled one and stuffed it into his mouth, obviously his face was sour and wrinkled. When I got up, I still gave my thumbs up and shouted, "Sweet! Really sweet!" At this time, customers are often willing to pay, because it doesn't matter whether the oranges are sweet or not. The shopkeeper is like a boulder on his chest. The shocking performance is the key to his winning this business.

　　...

　　 "Don't worry, I will use my heart."

Mrs. Cole didn't say a word, but took a deep look at him, turned and led the way, crossed the corridor, and pushed open a wooden door with a rusty and creaking shaft. The noise was suddenly released, and Nelson's head was slammed. As Mrs. Cole stepped in, the hall instantly quieted down.

Said it is a hall, but in fact it is just a slightly larger room next to the stairwell on the second floor. There are a dozen tables of different appearances densely placed in the hall. Some are high round tables, some are low square tables, and some wooden tables are dangling. Long, some iron tables have peeling paint, and the surrounding walls are covered with golden olive branch-like wallpapers on white background—this was a more expensive decoration decades ago, but in the winter of 1938, there were only black and green mold spots. Slowly seeping out from under the wallpaper.

Those tall, short, large and small tables were surrounded by children of all sizes, men and women, obese, thin, all-colored, disabled and healthy children. Sit down, to be honest, such a scene will only be seen in the orphanage after a few decades.

Tom sniffed his nose with an imperceptible movement and quickly returned to normal. Nelson was also ashamed. Although he spends holidays like Christmas at his aunt's house, he lives here on weekdays and often stays here. He had a meal in the restaurant, but he could not bear the musty smell in the air just after more than four months.

　　 The children sitting around the table turned their heads to look at Mrs. Cole with some expectation, and noticed the two people next to her, looking at them with different expressions.

　　 "Come on, look here!" Mrs. Cole shouted with a wave of her hand. She turned and asked, "Nelson, do you need me to call the nurse to take pictures?"

　　 "No, you and Tom will go pat on it. I just need to sign on the back."

　　 "I don't like taking pictures." Tom took the cloth bag full of chocolates from Nelson.

　　Mrs. Cole heard the words, smiled wryly and shook her head, and stood at the back of the tables.

　　 "Look at the camera, come and smile!" Nelson pressed the shutter.

　　Mrs. Cole patted the shoulders of the two of them and turned to arrange today's dinner. They found a few people they knew before and walked to their table.

　　 After taking his seat, Tom fiddled with the cloth bag Nelson received, his face sinking. Although he is not well-versed in the world, he has also noticed that the movements of the people who used to ate at the same dinner table to move the stools to take up positions are so stiff and lively. Although they have only been away from the orphanage for a few months, they seem to have become two. People of the world. No, they have indeed become people of two worlds.

"Nelson Williams, I know you." A newsboy hat sitting opposite Nelson slowly lifted up. Nelson recognized it. This was the little thief who stole his wallet in the alley. He blew softly. Whistle, a little bee struggled to crawl out of the little thief's pocket.

　　 "Ah, hello..." Nelson was a little confused, how dare he take the initiative to say hello to himself.

　　 "I moved into your room later, my name is Christian Jewell—" Christian, is it a girl? Nelson looked at her carefully. Under the newsboy hat was dirty black curly hair, her pale little face was covered with thick dark circles, and the lower eyelid of her left eye had a thumb-long scar running through her cheek. Although she looked arrogant, But when I look at people, I don't look at their eyes, just face to the left and squint at the forehead of the opposite person.

　　 "Okay," Tom interrupted Christian's speech. He dropped the cloth bag on the table, got up very quietly, and turned over the chair behind him, "We don't want to eat at the same table with the thief."

　　 "Sorry." After Nelson apologized to the people at the table in a low voice, he got up to chase Tom, and everyone around him was almost indifferent, watching the farce.

　　 "Why are you coming back?" Christian stood up and shouted at Nelson, "Do you think you are doing well? Come and show it to us?"

　　 "Why should I listen to a thief's preaching? It sounds disgusting." Tom walked back sometime and stood behind Nelson.

"Do you think I want to steal something?" Christian lowered her head. When she raised her head again, she seemed to be a little hysterical. Nelson noticed a crack in the tea cup beside her and the air currents around him began to surge. He stretched out his hand. He stood in front of Tom, turned and shook his head at him. When he got home, he wrote to Dumbledore explaining the situation of the little wizard. This matter should be left to professionals.

　　 "Can't stimulate her anymore. Little wizards without magic education, especially wizards from Muggles, can easily become silent due to mental stimulation." He whispered to Tom, who nodded and stopped talking.

　　 "Stealing is not good." Nelson took a step forward and looked directly into Christian's eyes.

　　 "I know that stealing is bad, but I am the daughter of a liar. I should have been born stealing, right?" Her tone eased, but her words became more intense.

　　 A blonde girl next to her pulled her sleeve, as if trying to stop her, Nelson remembered that girl, her name was Martha, who used to live next door to him.

　　 "Did you know, here, people like you are freaks."

　　 Christian ignored Martha's dissuasion, she lowered her head, and said such a sentence in an unwavering voice.

　　 "You're sleepy, I'll come to you tomorrow, and we'll talk tomorrow." Nelson suddenly said something strange to her, but she really sat down and lay on the table.

　　 "Hurry up, I will write instructions to the Ministry of Magic later. UU Read www.uukanshu.com" He turned to catch up with Tom, who was almost at the door, and whispered.

　　 "Nelson!"

Nelson and Tom were walking through the iron gate, shaking while looking at the camera in their hands, they continued to make the "click" sound of gears twisting. It seemed that this large group photo of many people would consume more paper and more ink. general.

Hearing his name, Nelson turned around and raised his eyebrows in amazement towards the dark courtyard. He looked at the small building. There was no one at the window. He thought it was someone's prank, and was about to leave, when he suddenly saw the small courtyard. In the thick darkness, a figure wearing a gray skirt, panting, was squeezed out.

　　 Masha chased it out. This little girl, who was originally as thin as a bean sprouts and had nothing to do with anything but promises, yelled behind them, and quickly panted on her knees because of lack of energy.

"Nelson, you saved me, didn't you?" She straightened up and looked straight into Nelson's eyes. Although her face and hair were thin and yellow due to malnutrition, her eyes were exceptional. Big, this is a pair of dark eyes that are more transparent than the midnight sky, as if to reflect everything in front of them.

　　 She drew two steps forward, still looking straight at Nelson, but Nelson was a little afraid to look her eyes directly, he avoided his sight, and even took two steps back.

　　 "They said you are a freak," Martha pressed harder, "but I know you are a good person!"

　　 "I don't know what you are talking about." Nelson muttered, went through the iron gate, and left the orphanage as if to escape.

After walking away for some distance, he turned and looked in the direction of the orphanage. There was a slender girl standing in the faint light under the door room window. She seemed to be shouting something, but the words were torn in the wind before they flew here. Inside.