Hogwarts: I am Voldemort.

Chapter 326 The train to London

On October 1993, 10, on the train from Manchester to London.

Joanne Rowling looked out of the window in a daze, frowning, reflecting the waves in her heart.

She has reason to frown.

She just gave birth to a child and is going through divorce procedures with her husband.

It's a sad story, and the problem is that she has few people around her to talk to.

"Can I sit here?"

A man's voice startled Joanne Rowling, she hurriedly wiped away the tears from the corners of her eyes, and said "En" in a muffled voice.

She was embarrassed to look up, and saw two legs in trousers sitting opposite her.

"I think you need it."

Accompanied by the man's words, a slender and white hand appeared in her vision.

What appeared at the same time was the handkerchief in his hand.

"Oh, thank you."

Rowling took the handkerchief, glanced at the other side hastily, and tried to smile.

She smiled a little awkwardly, not only because she didn't adjust her mood well, but also because of the other person's appearance.

A handsome black-haired man in a thin suit, just one glance makes you reluctant to take your eyes off him.

"Is there anything sad?" the man said softly, "Maybe telling a stranger who won't see you again will relieve the pressure."

"what."

Rowling let out a short exclamation, lowered her head and wiped the corners of her eyes with a handkerchief.

She was a little hesitant to talk about her own affairs, and looked up at the sincere black-haired man opposite, feeling a lot of trust in her heart inexplicably.

"Because of the kids and the family, sir, life is a little harder than I thought it would be."

She took the first step bravely, and it turned out to be the right choice.

The person opposite is simply the perfect listener.

He could hardly speak, but the few few times he spoke, he could speak into Rowling's heart.

About half an hour later, Rowling was surprised to find that the other party seemed to be her old friend for many years.

"Thank you for listening to me, sir, I don't know your name yet."

Rowling, who briefly came out of grief, asked with a smile on her face.

"Sylvester, you can call me that." Voldemort said with a smile, "It was a pleasure chatting with you."

"I hope you don't feel pessimistic about life, Mr. Sylvester. I don't think everyone lives like me." Rowling smiled wryly.

"I'm not a kid who read [Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs] anymore. Although I look younger than you, Ms. Rowling, maybe I'm older than you."

Rowling obviously didn't believe what Voldemort said, she thought it was just a joke of the other party.

"I've been talking about the boring past for a long time, Mr. Sylvester, I don't know if you have anything you want to tell me."

Rowling spread her hands with a smile, and continued, "After all, I really have nothing to repay you except to listen."

Rowling in this world did not create the [Harry Potter series].

Her life changed in 1990.

Originally, she was supposed to quit her job in the second half of the year and go to Manchester University for a period of time.

But this did not happen. She continued to work as a secretary until now, and her life is not as turbulent as in her previous life.

It's just that troubles such as the birth of the child and the divorce from her husband caused her to lose her job as a secretary.

This led to a sudden dilemma in her life.

Like she said, she really has nothing to give to others right now.

"My life is not satisfactory, but there is nothing to talk about in my life."

Voldemort's words brought disappointment to Rowling's face, and it seemed that she was sad because she couldn't help Voldemort.

But this emotion flashed by, and she quickly said with a smile: "This is a good thing, Mr. Sylvester, I hope you will never fall into the trough of my life."

Voldemort smiled, thinking that he had had more tragic experiences, but that would not defeat the purpose of his coming here.

"But speaking of talking..."

Voldemort paused briefly, and after whetting the appetite of the other party, he said, "I do have something to talk about, and you are a good candidate."

"Me?" Rowling asked Voldemort, pointing at herself with some doubts.

"Yes, that's you." Voldemort nodded. "I just heard you say that you have studied classical literature, right?"

Rowling nodded, that was her experience at Exeter University ten years ago.

"I have always had a story in my heart, but limited by my own literary level - I studied in an economics university - I can't write it well, so..."

"You want me to write it?" Rowling asked in surprise.

"No." Voldemort shook his head, "I wish to entrust the story to you and let you complete it."

Rowling blinked twice, obviously taken aback by the proposal.

"Anyway, let me tell you the story first, will you?" Voldemort asked.

"Oh, ok, of course, let's listen to the story first."

Rowling put away her surprised expression, nodded vigorously and said.

Voldemort smiled, sorted out his thoughts, and began to speak slowly.

"The story begins with the Dursleys at No. 4 Privet Drive. They are a well-behaved family. Yes, they have always emphasized that..."

Voldemort slowly narrated the book in Lin Zuo's memory, and he narrated it almost without making any changes, and tried to tamp it down as much as possible.

Such a lengthy story obviously cannot be told within a two and a half hour drive.

When the train arrived in London, Voldemort invited Rowling to the coffee shop to continue the story of "Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone".

"A thin, dark-haired little boy with eyes."

On the way between the two, Voldemort did not tell the story, and Rowling was already addicted to this story.

"My God, who would have thought that he, who had such a miserable life experience, was actually a little wizard? This is so suitable for children to hear."

"Yes, it's a fairy tale, Ms Rowling, it's my childhood fantasy."

Voldemort pointed to his long hair and said, "It's also black, isn't it?"

"Yes, Mr. Sylvester, but I suppose you didn't have that miserable childhood, did you?" Rowling asked with a smile.

Voldemort smiled and nodded.

Indeed, judging from his current image and temperament, it is impossible to see his childhood experience.

But people who are familiar enough with him, or have seen him use black magic, will definitely not think so.

The two came to the coffee shop and chatted until the sun went down before Voldemort bid farewell to them.

"Excellent, Mr. Sylvester."

Rowling said excitedly, "Everything is so perfect, I think it can be directly written into a book."

"I can't write, Ms. Rowling. Believe me, I tried." Voldemort said with a smile. "It's up to you, I think you can make it a good story, right?"

"Of course, but you must appear in the byline, and the idea of ​​this story, I will also indicate in the foreword that you created it." Rowling insisted.

"It's all up to you, Ms. Rowling, I just hope I can see it as soon as possible." Voldemort said with a smile.

"One month, no, half a month, you've described it in too much detail, I think I'll be able to complete the text creation soon." Rowling said.

Voldemort nodded with a smile, and then hugged the other party goodbye again.

(End of this chapter)