"Apparition class

If you are at least 17 years old or 17 years old by August 31, you can attend the 12-week Apparition Course taught by the Ministry of Magic's Apparition Instructor.

If you are willing to participate, please sign below.

Tuition: twelve Galleons. ”

At the beginning of the new semester, the sixth-grade students were boiling, and in just a short time, there was a long queue in front of the notice posted on the bulletin board, all of whom wanted to sign autographs.

Everything was in order, with Hermione signing her name first, then Ron, and finally Harry himself. They were all eligible, the only thing that was a bit of a problem was Ron, who didn't have twelve Galleons.

But it's nothing, because his friend Harry has a lot of Galleons...... Very much.

Throughout the day, the vast majority of sixth graders were excited to learn about apparitions, and you could see them discussing the subject anywhere. Without exception, they all yearn for a life that can disappear and manifest at any time.

Originally, Harry had just listened quietly to their discussion, but when Ron revealed that he had been taken to the fore, he was once again in the spotlight.

For almost the entire day, Harry was surrounded by sixth graders who wanted him to talk about apparitions, and even though he told them that apparitions were very uncomfortable, he didn't see a hint of timidity in their faces.

Just awe, and a growing interest.

"Speaking of which, what's the difference between phantom manifestation and phantom migration? Why are there these two names? ”

After finally getting rid of his inquisitive classmates, Harry suddenly remembered two words he had heard, and he couldn't help but ask.

"Actually, it doesn't make a difference." At the Gryffindor table, Hermione took a small bite of her sandwich and said, "If 'you' is the main body, the apparition is the 'you' manifesting somewhere, and the phantom migration is the 'you' leaving here." Overall, they're magic. ”

"It's complicated......"

"It's okay if you don't understand, the professor will say it when I take the apparition class."

"Okay......" Harry nodded, startled at the sight of a new group of seekers approaching him.

At this time, there are only ten minutes left until eight o'clock!

Harry looked at Hermione and Ron, and they immediately covered him so that he could run to the headmaster's office on time.

"Good evening, Harry."

The Meditation Basin was placed on the table again, Dumbledore's hand grappling its edge, two small silver vials beside it.

"Good evening, sir." Harry replied, "Two memories tonight?" ”

"Yes, they're all hard-won, and I think the second one, the most important of all the memories I've gathered."

"More important than the one in Stradery?"

"Yes." Dumbledore said, his expression suddenly becoming a little serious, "But before we can do it, we'll have to look at the first one." ”

"Tonight, we're going to continue Tom Riddle's story......" Dumbledore gets straight to the point and begins to tell Harry about Voldemort's time at Hogwarts. Such as what he has done, and what is thought of him.

“…… I don't find much memory of Voldemort at Hogwarts. Dumbledore said, "Few people who knew him at the time wanted to talk about him, and they were terrified. ”

"But there are still very few people who are willing to tell me something about him, scattered and often unsystematic. However, I also know one thing from these scattered memories, and that is that Tom is fascinated by his background. ”

It's easy to understand: he was born in an orphanage and grew up there, so it's natural to wonder how he got there. He had searched around Hogwarts for clues about Tom Riddle Sr., trophies, and student rosters, but found nothing, and was forced to admit the fact that his father had never been to Hogwarts......" Dumbledore took his glasses off the bridge of his nose and wiped them, "I think it was at that time that he abandoned the name Tom Riddle, after all, for him, the unusualness of his biological father was something he couldn't tolerate, so he changed his name to Voldemort." ”

"That's when he started investigating his mother...... whom he despised was also the case."

"You should remember, he once said: since that woman succumbed to death, she could not be a wizard."

"But he was wrong." Harry interjected.

"Yes, but he didn't know it at the time, and his only clue was the name 'Mavolo'." Dumbledore put his glasses back, "Eventually, he found a clue from his many old books and investigations into wizarding families that there was still a remnant of the Slytherin ......"

"That summer, when he was sixteen years old, he didn't go back to the orphanage he had to go to every year, but chose to look for his possible relatives......"

Dumbledore opened the first bottle and poured the memories into the meditation basin. He then reached out to Harry and motioned for him to grab it.

After a few seconds, Harry found himself in a somewhat familiar place, but it was very different from what he had seen before.

Before, although it was also very shabby, it was not as dirty as it is now. The ceiling was covered with thick cobwebs, the floor was black, and the moldy food on the table was mixed with the rusty pots, but there was no smell coming from it.

The room was dark, and the only light came from the candle at a man's feet that looked like it was about to go out. His hair and beard were so long that he completely covered his eyes and mouth, and he was so motionless that Harry thought he was dead.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door, and the man woke up. He holds a wand in his right hand and a short knife in his left hand. As soon as he got up from the ground, the door opened, and a young handsome teenager stood in the doorway.

It was Voldemort.

The man's gaze fell on young Voldemort, staring at his face for a long moment, and suddenly became agitated.

"You! You! He roared and stepped forward, only to kick the bottles scattered on the ground, and immediately stumbled, charging at Voldemort at a faster speed.

"Stop!"

The slightest rustling sound sounded, and the man couldn't help but be startled, but he couldn't stand it if he wanted to stop, so he simply fell to the side and hit the table directly.

He propped up the filthy table, looked through his long hair, and looked more closely at the child in front of him.

"Would you say something like that?"

"Yes, I will." Voldemort looked at the dilapidated room and asked, "Where's Marvolo?" ”

"It's been dead, many years."

"And who are you?"

"I'm Mofen."