Can HP Diary Help Me Pass NEWTs?

[1940 No Responsibility Extra Story-HE]

The Dark Lord had a dream.

He couldn't remember how long it had been since he'd had a dream, probably not since he learned Occlumency.But, anyway, it was a very strange dream--very strange.

In this dream, he seemed to be awake. He could feel the slight itchiness of the cloth rubbing against his wrist, he could smell the warm aroma of toasted bread with butter, and he could hear the sound of the wind chimes blowing by the breeze.But he is like a bystander who stays out of the matter, he can only watch but not move.

He saw himself standing in front of a tall and gorgeous floor-to-ceiling mirror, well-dressed and handsome, looking as if he had not been disfigured by black magic and had grown up naturally in his 30s, with a dignified appearance.He raised his hand, buttoned the top button of the shirt, and slowly rolled up the cuffs slightly, the black pearl cuff buttons swaying slightly.No matter from which angle you look at it, he is full of a high-ranking and high-spirited posture, and he seems to be doing quite well.

"Daddy! Daddy——" he heard the little girl shouting, yelling, with a pampering feeling that she had never suffered before, and she took everything she wanted from others as a matter of course.

Voldemort couldn't help but frown - if he could really make such a move now, he would have to shut up the unruly little troll.

But he is just a bystander.

"Tritogonia," he heard himself warn in a neutral tone, "I remember I reminded you many times not to speak loudly before ten o'clock in the morning when your mother is home."

Voldemort's pupil quake - if he could do it now.

Mother?at home?That little troll girl who yelled and screamed was his daughter? ?

Merlin, he hasn't had a dream for a long time, are his dreams so absurd now?

"But my mother told me last time I don't need to talk to you, your room has a soundproof spell." A little girl in a baseball uniform and jeans appeared in the mirror, yawning boredly, "When is breakfast? I'm starving to death. "

No rules, no rules, thought Voldemort angrily, he couldn't believe he had such a daughter - even in his dreams!

But he observed the little girl carefully, and had to admit that although the facial features were not very similar, both the charm and outline were completely resembling his daughter.

She looks quite cool, with exquisite features and fashionable dress, which is the kind of Muggle fashion. Although she looks a bit lazy, there is always a sense of pride in the brows of a smart child.Even if she was put among a lot of boys, no one could look more heroic than her.

"The bread is in the oven," he heard himself say. "The steak is on the plate. Remember to eat the broccoli and leave nothing behind. And the onions. If I find any onions left on your plate, your dinner today." The Diagon Alley project is cancelled."

Voldemort was shocked and angry!

Could it be that in this dream, he was actually the one in charge of making breakfast?

how can that be? ?

"It's not fair! You are bullying!" Tritogenia complained loudly, "Mom doesn't eat onions, you don't serve her every time!"

"Obviously, that's because she's my wife and you're not," he heard himself say grimly. "If you find a lucky boy later, you can ask him to do the same."

Tritogenia turned and ran angrily, her slippers rattling on the marble tiles.

Voldemort heard himself raise his voice slightly and say, "Remember to take out your Muggle homework after breakfast, I want to check your homework."

Tritogenia groaned.

"Why do my classmates only need to do one assignment, but I have to do two?"

Voldemort saw himself turning slowly, and he could finally see the room in its entirety.

This is a fairly large room, with rows of wardrobes standing against the wall. Going out of the room, there is a spacious corridor. The spiral staircase is just opposite the corridor. Along the corridor, it is as large as two classrooms. The large living room is decorated in style.Outside the house is a sun corridor with a glass roof.

A very luxurious villa.

It was hard for Voldemort to imagine that this was where he would choose to live.Although this place is very grand, but—it's hard to describe, it's just...the atmosphere of life is too strong, it's too much like someone's home.

Home, Voldemort?It's like being forced together, strange and weird.

"I remember when your mother asked you if you could persist in completing Muggle and wizard studies at the same time, you agreed without hesitation at all." He said without any ups and downs.

Voldemort watched in horror as he walked into the kitchen, waved his wand, and the eggs flew up smoothly, breaking the shell, and the egg white and yolk spread out on the pan, making a sizzling sound, and soon turned into a frying pan that looked very good. Egg.

Damn it!stop it!He thought angrily, it never occurred to him that his familiar yew wand could be used to fry eggs!And he was doing it himself! !

His wand was dirty, he thought bitterly.

"I'm just talking," Tritogenia muttered in the dining room, "You're not allowed to complain to Mom."

Voldemort heard himself snort.

He fried three eggs in one go--if he could, Voldemort's face was contorted--then divided the fried eggs among the three plates, poured the soup on them, waved his wand, and the three plates flew dangling towards up the restaurant.

He walked out of the kitchen and sat across from Tritogenia.

It can be seen that the three fried eggs are for the three owners of the house.One for himself, one for Tritogenia, and one for the yet-to-be-seen mistress—the last fried egg was carefully placed on a bone china plate, tightly covered, and Voldemort watched in agony. Waving the wand himself, he added a warming charm to the plate.

He and Tritogenia finished the breakfast in silence.

"Take out your homework, then go back to the room to pack things, and when your mother wakes up and has breakfast, we'll go to Diagon Alley together." He put down the napkin, and ordered Tritogenia in a flat tone, "No noise. "

Tritogenia made a face at him—you could see that she wasn't afraid of her father at all, even a little bit.

But she still took out her homework very obediently.

Voldemort saw himself picking up the workbook and opening it very naturally.

This is a Muggle-written text.

"The title of this week's composition is..." He paused, his tone a little subtle, ""My Parents"?"

"Uh huh." Tritogenia ran upstairs with a "da da", "Don't worry, I won't say that you are wizards!"

Voldemort heard himself snort again.

He spread his homework on the table.

"My Parents"

By Terry Tognia Riddle Sweet

Voldemort looked at the signature on the exercise book in horror—what?Could it be that besides making breakfast at home every day and checking her homework, his daughter doesn't even have his last name?How could he allow it?

Sweet, which wizarding family's surname is this again?How has he never heard of it?Could it be that he married a bitch wizard?

But no matter how frightened and angry he was in his heart, he was completely calm in the dream, as if he didn't feel anything was wrong at all, and he read the composition naturally.

"My mother is Pauline Sweet, a very great scientist. She graduated from the School of Physical Sciences at the University of Cambridge and is currently in charge of a scientific research institute independently. The projects she leads have attracted worldwide attention. I admire my Mom, she is a wonderful intellectual with a detached attitude towards life - if I can express my thoughts freely, I think she is a philosopher who really understands the meaning of life, with a fascinating And that charm does not come from beauty, although she is a standard beauty. At the same time, it is worth mentioning that although my mother has achieved extraordinary achievements, she is not obnoxious and old-fashioned, quite the opposite , she is humorous and very cool..."

Voldemort looked at it more seriously at first, after all, he was really eager to understand what kind of person this inexplicable wife was.From Tritogenia's wording, it is not difficult for him to guess that his "wife" is a pro-Muggle hybrid, talented, brilliant, and has amazing achievements in magical academics-barely not enough. Count him ashamed.

However, looking at it, he suddenly felt that something was wrong.

This is obviously a composition titled "My Mom and Dad", but it's all about Pauline Sweet. He read the whole article and found almost no part about "Dad".

Tritogenia spent more than 600 words, taking the trouble to express how powerful her mother is, how strong, how good she is, how cool, how cool, how much she adores her mother, until the last paragraph, she is not relentless Wishing alms to her father for a while.

"As for my father, Tom Riddle, he is a half-househusband. He usually works in a political consulting agency called the Wizengamot. He is serious and responsible, helpful, and everyone is his good friend. But I think the most commendable thing is that he's a pretty good housekeeper."

stay-home husband? ?

Helpful?Every colleague is his good friend? ?

The most commendable thing is that the level of housework is not bad? ? ?

What the hell kind of description is this?Damn it, what kind of person was he in the dream? ?

Is this kid still available? ?

Voldemort almost flew into a rage.

This is really a dream.

he thought numbly.

He saw his fists clenched, and it looked like he couldn't bear it even in his dream, "Tritogonia Sweet!" He heard himself whispering, a premonition of his rage.

Voldemort was inexplicably relieved.

Hurry up and teach this little monster a lesson!he thought silently.

Tritogenia hid upstairs and pretended not to hear.

"I'll count to three. If you don't come down, you will be responsible for the consequences." He said coldly.

That's how it should be!Voldemort thought happily, let this unruly little troll know who is really worthy of respect!

"one--"

He stood up, and the soft cloth rubbed against the corner of the table, making a slight rustling sound.

"two--"

He walked through the winding corridors and up the winding steps.

"three--"

He stepped over the half-covered terrace, sunlight pouring down the glass doors.

"Mom! Help!" Tritogenia rushed out of the room, ran across the corridor on the second floor, and rushed into the room at the end of the corridor, half a flight of steps turned up.

Voldemort felt himself clenching his wand tightly in his pocket.

right!That's it!He thought happily, hurry up and use magic to teach her a lesson!

But in the next second, his hand was put down again.

With a sullen face, he quickly chased after him and rushed into the room.

"What's the matter again? Can't you two rest for a day?" A lazy voice came out through the half-closed door, low and hoarse, like golden sand slowly rubbing under the sun, Charming.

He felt himself walking into the room sullenly.

Voldemort would not admit that he suddenly lifted his spirits, but he wanted to see who the wife in the dream was.

The sun shone in the spacious bedroom, clearly illuminating the messy sheets and quilts, and fine dust floated slowly in the air. Tritogenia hid behind a slender woman and made faces at him.The woman stood in front of the huge floor-to-ceiling mirror, wrapped in a loose nightgown, lazily combing her hair, and did not turn her head slowly until he entered the door.

She is very beautiful.

Anyone who sees her will never wonder where Tritogenia's coolness engraved in her bones comes from, because there is nothing in this world that can leave a deeper imprint on her daughter than a mother.

Unlike Tritogenia, she wasn't a little girl or teenage girl at all.Time has not deprived her of her beauty, on the contrary, it has been meticulously sculpted, which exudes a thrilling beauty all over her body.Her posture is not arrogant, but some people are different naturally.

He was all too familiar with this feeling.

"How did she mess with you again?" Pauline Sweet, his dream wife, asked lazily.

"Nothing," he heard himself say, "Did Tritogenia bother you?"

"It's all right," said Pauline. "I'm up already."

He felt his eyes warn Tritogenia to get out of the room quickly.

Tritogenia slipped away from him sensibly, hugged Pauline before leaving, and was kissed obediently-Voldemort angrily found that she was cute and cute when she treated Pauline, not like treating Pauline at all. He was so rebellious and arrogant.

Hell, he thought, could he really be a ridiculous househusband in this dream?

How can this be?

"Are you resting well?" After Tritolgonia left, he walked towards Pauline, and Voldemort noticed that his voice had become extraordinarily—hell, gentle!

"That's it." She was not interested, he hugged her from behind, and stood with her in front of the floor-to-ceiling mirror.

At first, Voldemort didn't realize what the dots of red marks on her neck were, but when he lowered his head and kissed her cheeks and neck in a vague way, he suddenly react to.

If only he could wake up—he prayed sincerely, he would trade all the treasures in the world for himself to wake up quickly.

"Stop." Pauline stretched out her finger, tapped his lips lightly, and looked at him with a half-smile, "Last night was crazy enough, today I promised Tritogenia to deal with it." Corner Lane, don’t come.”

Voldemort hated himself for not being a piece of wood!

"I know." He felt himself lingering on her neck reluctantly, and finally raised his head reluctantly, "Breakfast is ready."

"I couldn't be more grateful," she whispered, wrapping her arms around his neck, and kissed him lightly on the corner of the lips—Voldemort almost jumped up, but he could only watch as he reached out and hugged him hard. He hugged her and exchanged a lingering and ambiguous kiss with her.

They kissed for a long time, until Pauline gave him a light kick on the shin and he reluctantly released her.

"I'm going to change clothes." She ordered.

He chuckled, kissed her forehead in a resignation that Voldemort hadn't expected, and went on to do other things.

The morning passed at an astonishing speed, and it wasn't until Pauline had finished her breakfast that she changed into a well-cut dress that they packed up a little and were ready to go.

The golden sunshine falls on the quiet villa, the lawn and the quietly flowing stream not far away, making everything look like a fairyland in mythology.Tritogenia's yelling, Pauline's chuckling, children's playing and lover's whispering, everything is like a dream rubbed from a fairy tale book.

He felt himself wrapping his arms around Pauline gently, lowering his head, and kissing her forehead lightly...

"Get out of my mind." He heard a cold voice, followed by a sharp tearing pain, and everything in front of him suddenly shattered like a mountain shaking.

Everything suddenly disappeared.

The Dark Lord woke up from his dream.

There are no golden villas, lawns and streams, and there are no children laughing and lovers whispering. There is only the cold and dark Albanian forest in front of him. The only thing that can respond to him is the rustling leaves. He is not anyone's husband, or anyone's father. , he is just a ghost who waits for an opportunity with fear and hatred, but is slowly forgotten in time.

A dream, he thought, a ridiculous dream, not worth mentioning.

In the cold and silent forest, the cold wind blows, only the rustling of the leaves, like a silent sneer.

The author has something to say:

There is no inspiration for the 1950 episode, so I can't write it.

There is another chapter next, which is the long commentary and update of [Nedochka]:

Background 1946, 2nd year after graduation from TR

If Dumbledore hadn't persuaded Dippet to reject Riddle's application, if Riddle had become the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor.

Pauline is a school girl 2 years younger than TR, a top student in the seventh grade

Key words: professor with ghosts x greedy students, kiss after class

After writing, the full text is over~