HP Tom Riddle

"I don't know if it's darkness, or nothingness, what's behind death?" Riddle asked back, "Have you ever tried the feeling of dying in the darkness?"

"Riddle..." I called him weakly, and I thought his next words must be extraordinary, beyond all my current knowledge, "Riddle...death is a new journey."

"I tried." He sneered, "I remember everything from my birth until now. Elena, it was a very compelling feeling, you know? I was stuck in my mother's birth canal, she, the A stupid and cowardly woman, she had no strength at that time, I had to squeeze out by myself, so as not to suffocate to death in that small, dark, cold place."

I squirmed my lips and couldn't say anything for a long time.

Riddle smiled. He changed to a book called "A Thousand Miraculous Herbs" and sat slantingly across the window.Mrs. Ponceley happened to be calling a person sitting on the windowsill to come down on the other side, and Riddle held his wand and cast a disillusionment spell on himself.

I looked at the window where no one could be seen, picked up "Elementary Metamorphosis" dejectedly, took out two pieces of parchment from Riddle, and pulled out the quill pen inserted in the ink bottle.

I have never written a dissertation.While still in the castle, I also learned some writing skills under the guidance of an unmarried Shafiq, which is still about writing letters.I rambled about the book for a long time before I could barely make up an inch.

..............................................

After dinner, I returned to the common room with the Slytherin contingent.

Because the cellar is dark and damp, the fireplace is kept alive all year round.Whether it is a common room or a bedroom, a fireplace is always indispensable.

I sat down on an armchair next to the fireplace, spread out an inch of my Transfiguration paper, and wanted to pull my hair in frustration.

"Damn bees*."

"Transformation class paper?" Senior Les Lantage glanced at my paper, and suddenly sat across from me, "The transformation of wood and metal in the first grade. This is indeed a difficult problem-for those of you who have just taken To the little wizard who has not had a wand yet."

"Uh... Senior..."

I looked into his eyes with almost no temperature, and quickly closed my mouth again.

He raised one foot, pointed his polished dragon leather shoe to the table in the middle: "I think, I can help you solve this problem." He made a long list of books, "The thesis should be until next week Just hand it over."

"Yes." I carefully looked into his eyes, blue with a little bit of gray, very confusing eyes, but generally speaking, such people are always cold and unreasonable.

"You did a good job today," he said, "I look forward to your performance in the next class." His eyes moved slightly to the fireplace where we visited last night, "Hopefully in two weeks we can See you there. The only female year representative, a good sign, isn't it?"

There was a slight smile on his face that couldn't be called a smile.

I lowered my head and stared at the paper disguisingly: "Of course, I think that's a good sign."

I think about Riddle's performance that day.

It is very high-profile and very intimidating. If it is related to classroom performance according to Les Lantage, is it possible that Riddle will become a grade representative, which is why Les Lantage came to call I work harder?

So, what should I do?

I kind of want to drop my pen--damn pedigree discrimination.What's wrong with Riddle being a half-breed?What's wrong with being a Muggleborn?He's a wizard, and that's enough!

Rolling up the paper, I found that the common room is really not a good place to do homework, and next time I can't go to the library with Riddle, I can't help but make some suggestions when I see some books he reads, and then It will turn into a debate, which has been verified by examples as early as Lihen Bookstore.

Miss Black hadn't returned to the dormitory yet, so I grabbed the toy dragon alarm clock that almost burned me this morning and threw it aside.

Picking up last night's brochure, I suddenly found that this alarm clock is on the first page:

Norwegian Ridgeback Alarm Clock

A good helper for bedridden wizards.It sprays a safe and harmless magical flame that won't stop until you leave the bed. 【Number of current users: 1】

I put my wand over the picture of a fire-breathing dragon, and immediately a blue Norway Ridgeback alarm clock popped up next to my pillow.

Send it to Riddle!

This idea popped into my head.We must go, otherwise we will have a cold war for a long time according to his awkward and awkward personality.

I immediately opened the door and caught a glimpse of no one in the lounge, nor in the passage to the men's bedroom.He quickly grabbed the alarm clock on the bed and walked quickly upstairs to the boys' dormitory.

Girls can enter the boys' dormitory, but boys cannot enter the girls' dormitory.

Thanks for this provision.

I knocked on Riddle's door, and there was only his nameplate on it, in a thin, lacy gold script: Tom Riddle.

"Elena?" He opened the door and quietly withdrew his wand, "Why did you come here?"

I boldly smashed the dragon-shaped alarm clock on his head: "Send something."

I squeezed away Riddle, who was catching the dragon with a helpless face, and held up the black leather booklet in his hand: "Of course, I also need to experiment to see if this booklet can only be used by girls."

"You're so boring." Although Riddle said so, there was a smile on his face, and he said, "Just don't disturb my desk."

"Of course not." I added a "Levitation Charm" to the booklet and asked Riddle, "What do you want?"

Riddle leaned over his head and gave up and said, "I trust your vision, Elena."

He pinched the soft belly of the Norwegian Ridgeback: "What is this?"

"The alarm clock, the kind that breathes fire." I said cheerfully, "If you don't get up on time, it will breathe fire on top of your head."

"Well... can I not?"

"No. Yes." I refused.

"I don't want it to burn my hair off." Riddle was troubled. "And the dormitory."

"Haha." I laughed, "That's magic fire, it just makes you feel like you're actually being burned."

Riddle glared at me.

I pretended I hadn't seen it, so I changed the bed into a warm color, along with the curtains and wallpaper, all of them into warm colors.Since I live with Senior Sister Black and can't decorate it according to my liking, then it's not bad to have an eye craving here at Riddle.

In the end, the only thing that wasn't quite right was the desk that Riddle wouldn't let me do.

"I'm going to replace it," I said in an irresistible tone.

"Okay." Riddle said reluctantly, "Let me clean them up."

"Hurry up." I urged.

The author has something to say: Dumbledore means bee, if my memory serves me correctly.