My classmate at Hogwarts is Voldemort

Chapter 82 The man who made the front pages of both wizarding and muggle newspapers

"Outside the number! Outside the number!"

Early in the morning, Nelson was sitting at an open-air table in a small restaurant on the street in Paris, adding sugar to milk tea in one hand and pounding the croissant on the table with a fork in one hand. It was riddled with holes.The morning here is much more comfortable than London. Although the haze in the air is still irritating the mucous membranes of people's respiratory tracts, there is no fog after all, at least it looks like the sky is clear and clear.

After saying goodbye to Newt Scamander last night, Nelson and Tom returned to the room they had reserved in the hideout, only to find that the hotel's deserted lobby during the day was turned into a pub with wizard singers at night. , a group of ghosts and monsters writhing on the dance floor with alcoholic beverages - this may be the early prototype of nightclubs.That hotel was no longer suitable for a night's rest, so the two had to leave with their suitcases and went to Paris to find a Muggle hotel. It has to be said that as long as the money is in place, the Muggle service will be much better than what wizards can provide.

Tom saw a pet shop on the side of the road and went to buy rations for Nelson's cat. The guy at Hogwarts was like a school bully who wanted to eat cards. Even the cat food had to be changed every day, so he Let Tom go shopping and order food at the restaurant first.

"Sir, do you want a newspaper?" The newsboy was pushing the newspaper against the hustle and bustle of people. When he saw Nelson sitting on the side of the road, he squeezed up, waving the newspaper in his hand, trying to sell it hard, "The Paris Daily News, The greatest artist of the century is at the door of the Paris Opera House."

"Get me a copy, thank you." Nelson paid, spread the newspaper on the table, held up the cup, and sprayed a sip of milk tea on it.

There is a travel agency working as a part-time translator in the hidden place. They have a family translation spell, which can make the caster understand the native language of the caster in a short time. Nelson bought a "French one" there through the introduction of Newt. Although the price is as high as ten Galleons, it is still very economical compared to finding a weekly translator - this allows him to master French fluently, including but not limited to listening, speaking, reading and writing .

He regrets it a little now. If he didn't know French, he wouldn't have seen the news this morning:

"Finding Pythia: The Great Performance Artists Albus Dumbledore and Gellert Grindelwald Emerge in the Streets of Paris"

"?" He took a peek at the surrounding streets and found that after nine o'clock there was no one on the road, so he secretly took the wet newspaper under the table, took out his wand and said softly, "Restore as usual."

"Let me see..." Nelson spread the newspaper out on the table again, read the contents softly, and sprayed another sip of milk tea on it, "Mr Gellert Grindelwald and his partner Albus Deng Bulido is the greatest performance artist I have seen in my ten years of practice. They rescued performance art from incomprehensible madness, and used simple and thought-provoking methods to show us a new kind of performance on the streets of Paris. The form of artistic expression, combining performance art with political appeal for the first time..."

"It's back to normal." He hid the wet newspaper under the table again, thought about it, and added, "Waterproof and moisture-proof."

"Nar? What are you looking at?" Tom suddenly appeared, sat opposite Nelson, and threw a large bag of cat food on the side chair with a "duang", panting, "Can you believe it? The Daily Prophet's owl pretended to be a pet bird and hid in that pet shop in order to deliver me a letter in front of Muggles."

After that, he dropped a newspaper, picked up his cup of milk tea with just the right temperature and sweetness on the table and drank it.

"Nar?" He raised his head and said vaguely with milk tea in his mouth, "Why don't you speak?"

"I... I'm reading your news." Nelson put the "Paris Daily" upright in front of Tom with trembling hands. Tom lowered his head and saw the huge photo on the front page of the newspaper. A young man wearing the same plaid coat is standing at the entrance of a dim alley and looking at the camera. Nelson in the front is wearing a soft felt hat and is talking to the camera with his hands outstretched. Tom in the back is sideways. His face turned away from the bustling lights on the street outside, his expression was deeply hidden under the brim of the newsboy hat, and he cast a heavy look of concern for the country and the people towards the statue of the priestess who was lying in the distance.He poked his head toward the newspaper, his voice soon as melancholy as the eyes in the photo, "What is this? Artist Gellert Grindelwald?"

"This is you, Tom."

"What about you? Are you Albus Dumbledore?" Tom's tone was rarely trembling, he had never seen such a battle before, "Grindelwald will kill the Muggles in this newspaper! He might even kill everyone in Paris who has read this paper! He will kill us for sure! What is this? Deconstruction of traditional theocracy and patriarchy, yearning for a better future and calls for equality? How do they How dare you make such a mess!"

"It's probably a reference to our search for the Pythian sculpture."

"I know! But..." Tom's expression was unpredictable, as if he didn't know what to show in this situation. After a while, he shook his head with a wry smile, picked up the "Daily Prophet" and threw it in front of Nelson , "Well, Dumbledore and Grindelwald may be the first time ever to make headlines in both Muggle and Wizarding newspapers."

Nelson picked up the newspaper and glanced at it. The front page read, "Attack at the Wizengamore Trial, Dumbledore Repels Grindelwald!" 》

"Fortunately, it was already dark when I took the photo. I don't think they could see my face." Tom patted his chest and comforted himself. Then when he opened the second page, he saw himself and Nelson standing under the Napoleon statue. HD handsome face.

"..."

"By the way, where is the fireplace from Paris to London?" Tom stood up quickly, looked up at the bright morning sun, picked up the cat food and some things he bought yesterday, and asked, "It's getting late. Now, I think I have to go back."

"The International Floo Network may need to go to the Ministry of Magic. Even if it doesn't work, you can ask the British Magical Diplomat in France to take you back directly." Nelson also stood up and approved the coat on the back of the chair. He quickly planned his escape route in his mind, "We need to go to Furstenberg Square first, let me see..."

He took a map out of his pocket and nodded, "It's in the sixth district, fortunately it's not far from here."

……

Furstenberg Square is a relatively outdated public facility. There are more or less such places in every city. In this land we live, most of them have the same name, "People Park", "Liberation Park", "Cultural Square" or similar names, most of them were built decades ago, and they are not very popular with modern people who have a rich and exciting entertainment life.And Furstenberg Square is no different from them—the small square is covered with old square floor tiles. Tall but unattractive trees, a few birds hid in the shade and pecked at the scattered acorns on the ground, and the buildings around the square seemed to be old. They were generally low, with a dilapidated gray color, surrounding the square The iron railings on the side of the arc-shaped road also have a black and rusty look.

"How do we get in?" Tom raised his eyebrows, "Although the British Ministry of Magic is also very unprofessional, it is at least in front of a bustling department store."

"It won't be prosperous in a few decades." Nelson walked to a lamp beside the fountain. The lamp was very detailed. The four tortured goddesses held up the hill-like lamp top. Bending down and looking at the inscription on it carefully, "Walas Fountain? It should be here."

The two stood on the side, and the surrounding tree roots swept in, wrapping them firmly, forming a birdcage-shaped elevator, and they quickly fell and sank to the ground.

"How can I help you?" Just as Nelson was studying the elevator shaft through the gap between the tree roots and the birdcage, the twisted tree roots suddenly shrank away, and a man with high cheekbones suddenly shrank back. The black-haired witch was sitting behind the front desk facing the two of them, looking at the two of them, while holding a quill pen to record something.

"I want to use the international Floo network here," Tom stepped forward, explaining his purpose, "I'm a student at Hogwarts, and I'm going to sit in on Dumbledore's trial this weekend, and then because of Grindelwald's attack, I'm going to be with him. The people scattered and ended up taking the wrong fireplace to the hiding place, I heard that the fireplace of the French Ministry of Magic can connect to London, and I want to go back from here."

"Excuse me." Tom added another sentence when he saw that the witch at the front desk had summoned a thick book to inquire about something.

"It doesn't matter, we have also prepared a plan to deal with this situation." The witch nodded and closed the book, "The office of the Department of International Affairs and Communication is downstairs, you can go directly down the stairs on the right and register there. ."

"Sir, do you need it too?"

"Thank you, I'm not in a hurry." Nelson declined the witch's kindness, "I came with him."

The administration was surprisingly efficient, and in no time Tom was crawling away from the fireplace in the Division of International Affairs and Communications.

"Nelson, it's time for us to go back." As Nelson stood at the door of the office and continued to think about his escape route, a voice stopped him. He raised his head and happened to meet Andrea, who was accompanied by two Ministry of Magic officials. There are shrewd old eyes in the double turbidity.

"How do you..."

"Shh-" Andrei winked at him, then smiled after the two officials had walked away, "As I said, not every saint is wanted, and not every country is wanted. Want us."

　Come on for the postgraduate entrance examination! ! !

　　
　
(End of this chapter)