Harry Potter: I Am a Legend

On the suspension bridge at the top of a freighter at the dock, Hoffa let go of Miranda's wrist.

Miranda turned her head away from him: "I'm sorry I lost my mind." She said lightly, not seeing any embarrassment on her face.

"I'm sorry if I didn't contact you, but it's a must." Hoffa said bitterly: "I have made too many enemies, and those people are more frenzied than the other."

"Excuse." Miranda's lips squirmed.

"You are my best friend, I can't..." He sighed and shook his head: "You don't understand, fate is impermanent."

Miranda closed her eyes, and when she opened them again, the lines on her face had softened. She grabbed Hoffa’s wrist: "If this is the case, do you think I will be scared? Or do you think I am not strong enough to drag you? Hind legs?

"You are not afraid of me, I will not take any risks, so whatever you say is useless." Hoffa looked at the lighthouse flashing in the distance: "I will definitely leave England."

Miranda stopped speaking, she lowered her head.

Seeing her a little sad, Hoffa felt very distressed. He hadn't seen her for a year, and he had to split up.

He touched Miranda's chestnut hair and smiled: "Don't always talk about me, you haven't told me how you are in London."

"My grandfather is back." Miranda shook his palm and said flatly.

Hoffa raised his brows and said in surprise: "Professor Adbe is back?"

"Yes, he was transferred to the Ministry of Magic this year as the director of the Defense Against the Dark Arts," Miranda said blankly. "I also arranged for an internship in London, and patrolled every corner of London every day, saying that he was catching the dark wizard. , But most of the time only the thief can be caught."

"That's not bad."

"Is it?"

Miranda raised her head noncommittal, spitting out a cloud of white mist in the cold night sky, and shook her head: "Most of the other Ravenclaw tasks are heavier than mine, but you are the one I admire the most. You are freer than me."

I'm all envious, hell. Hoffa thought to himself, if he had chosen any one with poor psychological endurance in his own experience, he would have been crazy long ago.

"Forget it, you really want to leave, and I won't keep you, but you can leave after Christmas anyway," she suggested again: "It's not a few days away. If you don't go to school, just go to my house, my house. Just me and grandpa."

"After Christmas..."

Looking at the flickering lights on the other side of the Thames, Hoffa was lost in thought, and Norbert’s invitation was indeed not in a hurry for a day or two. If you can go to Miranda's house, write a few letters to him with an owl. It can also determine a specific location, maybe that would be more trouble-free.

After weighing the trade-offs, Hoffa nodded: "Okay, I promise you to spend Christmas with you."

A smile appeared on Miranda's face, and she handed Hoffa her hand: "Take me down. I can't Apparate for the time being."

"As you wish, Miss Gosak."

Hoffa bowed exaggeratedly. Pulling up her palms, hugged her horizontally, and then jumped directly to the ground from a suspension bridge of hundreds of meters. At night, this height is similar to three steps for him.

"I can do it!" After landing, Miranda looked at the heights, recovered from weightlessness, and pushed him: "Hey, don't hold me like this, I'm not familiar with you anymore."

Hoffa laughed. After making the decision to spend Christmas with his friends in the UK, he was inexplicably bettered. He let go of Miranda and asked: "How are you going to take me back, Goshak?"

"Wait and see, Bach, it must be a new thing you haven't seen before." Miranda stretched, turned her head and knocked on his head with an extremely unrestrained brain: "Follow me~"

When Hoffa covered his head and followed Miranda, with an uncontrollable smile on his face, he felt that others wanted to calculate him when he saw anyone outside, and he was about to be persecuted. He can relax completely only when he is with his old friends.

At the corner of the two-person street, he saw a Royal Enfield motorcycle that was painted black parked near the fire hydrant, with side-valve single-cylinders, black seats, round and bright car lights, and painted black. The silver ears look quite British.

"I thought you would come here on a flying broomstick."

The moment he saw the vehicle, Hoffa laughed, "Have you not seen you become so punk in a year?"

"Ah, what punk?"

Miranda looked at him confused.

"Forget it," Hoffa waved his hand, "when I didn't say it."

He didn’t think that punk would be something decades later. Miranda certainly didn’t know it, but the changes in this girl during the period of time he hadn’t seen for a year really made him look at him, not only learned makeup, but even motorcycles. The car will drive.

Miranda stepped on the motorcycle, stepped on the gas pedal, then took out two motorcycle hats from the car body, put one on herself, and handed the other to Hoffa.

A little speechless, Hoffa took the retro-looking motorcycle cap with wind-proof glasses, put it on his head, and sat behind Miranda.

Afterwards, the motorcycle turned on the orange lights and made a pleasant vibration, and the two of them galloped in the streets of London.

The wind blew past Hoffa’s ears, and the iron buckle of the motorcycle hat kept tapping his cheek. The speed was not fast, only about sixty miles, and Miranda didn’t look like the kind of fast driving. Exciting people. However, looking at the buildings and cars passing by, Hoffa suddenly couldn't help laughing, the more he smiled, the happier he was.

"Why are you laughing?"

Asked Miranda who was driving the motorcycle in confusion.

"Hahaha..."

Hoffa didn't answer, he just kept laughing behind her. In fact, he didn't know why he was laughing, but he wanted to laugh very much at the moment.

"What are you laughing at!?"

The driving Miranda asked with a silent smile.

"Hahahaha..."

"Hahahaha..."

"Hahahaha..."

Finally, he laughed that Miranda was a little annoyed. She turned the front of the car fiercely and passed a black Jaguar dangerously and almost knocked the ear of someone else's car.

"Are you a fool?" Miranda slammed the back of Hoffa's head on Hoffa's motorcycle bonnet: "Don't laugh!"

"Hahahahaha...!"

Hoffa laughed louder and louder, and even reached under her armpit and scratched it. After scratching, he reached to the front and took off her glasses while she was struggling.

"are you crazy!!"

The locomotive twisted and twisted unregulatedly on the street, mixed with the angry roar of the girl, attracting the glance of countless passers-by.

Finally, when the motorcycle was parked downstairs in an apartment building near Downing Street and Big Ben, Miranda stepped off the motorcycle angrily like a drunk. She tore off Hoffa’s motorcycle cap, annoyed. Kicked him in the calf.

"Go out and ran out of mind!" She blamed angrily.

Hoffa had never seen this expression on Miranda's face. When they were together, she would only have dark-bellied ideas or read a book and ignore them.

"Who did you learn to drive with? Did you make a gangster boyfriend a year when I was away?" Hoffa asked, sitting on the back shelf of the car with a smile.

"That's not it, more than one, more than a dozen, change one a month!" She looked at Hoffa grimly, and took out a bunch of keys from her pocket, "Come with me."

They got off their motorcycles and walked to a row of old-fashioned apartment buildings nearby, and stopped in front of a row of brown wooden doors covered by spider plants like 221 Baker Street.

"Is Professor Gorsak home?"

Hoffa looked at the 24-hour convenience store on the side of the road. In total, if he wanted to see his old dean, he would have to buy some fruit.

"Don't bother," Miranda could see through Hoffa's eyes. "He has been working overtime these days and has to wait until Christmas Eve to come back."

"So late!?" Hoffa was shocked.

"Don't worry about him." Miranda turned the door with the key: "There are three secretaries in the ministry for him to call."

Opening the door, Miranda turned on the lights in the aisle, and while fetching Hoffa shoes, she shouted, "Petty."

Almost as soon as her voice fell, a pair of pink slippers ran over from a distance. On the pink slippers are a pair of thighs with only Hoffa's wrists.

"Oh, my lady is here for a friend."

A neatly dressed but nervous house elf in a maid skirt. It rushed to Miranda, snatched the slippers from her hand like a whirlwind, and placed it in front of Hoffa. Then it looked up and made a sound.

"Yeah!!!"

Then he rushed back like a whirlwind. And in the blink of an eye he brought several neatly stacked rags, his eyes staring like copper bells, staring at Hoffa's clothes, as if he was facing an enemy.

"Is it troublesome, sir, if it's not troublesome, you can ask Petty to wipe it for you first, and it will be fine soon!"

She spoke very fast, but politely but firmly said.

Hoffa stood in embarrassment at the door.

"No trouble, Petty, he's a savage, he's used to being wild. Go and help him make a cup of tea." Miranda took the rag from the house elf and pushed it to the kitchen: "Green tea is good, use oriental ."

"Ah! Savage! This is the twentieth century!"

The elf was pushed forward, but his desperate eyes looked directly at the stain on Hoffa's body: "The savage will also evolve."

Miranda: "He can't evolve, don't yell, primitive people can't understand English."

The elf desperate: "Really..."

After sending away the house elves, Miranda returned to the cloakroom with a smile, "Come in quickly, do you want me to help you?"

Hoffa rolled his eyes, changed his shoes and walked into the living room.

He had been to another friend's house, and he still remembered that he was shocked by the celestial castle, but Miranda's house was much more ordinary, similar to that of an ordinary working class.

The square living room, about 60 square meters, does not have many decorations. There are rows of knitted cushions on the simple European-style sofa, and the fireplace is burning with apple wood, which is very quiet. The dining room is slightly smaller than the kitchen. There are a few magic chandeliers suspended on the lacquered wooden table, and there is a basin of blue hydrangea under the chandeliers. It seems to be infrequent to socialize, only four chairs.

In the kitchen, the house elves were busy picking and choosing in front of the cabinet, looking at Hoffa from time to time, with ears popping.

"My little elf, Adbe brought from my hometown," Miranda said helplessly, sitting at the dining table with the back of a chair, "Except for being hygienic, and a little nervous, everything else is fine. "

"The servant will look like the master." Hoffa looked at the busy back of the elf and smiled: "What about your brother, how are you doing?"

"Do you want to see him?" Miranda smiled and stretched out her hand to the glasses. "Aren't you still taking my glasses off in the car?"

"Okay," Hoffa hooked his fingers teasingly: "Come on, when I meet Miller, let's see if he has grown."

Miranda curled her lips and pushed her glasses: "Come on, if you live for a long time, you can naturally see him. Now, let's forget it."

This is, the house elf came to the living room with a cup of tea and a cup of coffee. One cup was placed in front of Miranda, and the other was placed half a meter away from Hoffa.

"Thank you."

Hoffa took the tea and started a choreography with a friend whom he hadn't seen for a long time, "I remember, don't you live in...so what county is it?"

"Devonshire." Miranda took a sip of coffee: "Adebe worked at the Ministry of Magic this year, and he rented an apartment near here. When his tenure is over, we have to move back."

After a pause, she said again: "But I graduated after his tenure ended. I can consider renewing the lease for a few years. The environment here is actually pretty good."

"That's not it,"

Hoffa stood at the window and looked into the distance. He could see the dazzling lights in Downing Street in the distance, which was the residence of the current British Prime Minister Churchill.

Put down the curtains.

"Let me say, you can buy this house, and now you are fighting everywhere, the land price is cheap, and in a few years, this lot can rise to your grandson without worrying about eating."

"Are you so sure we can win? This place was bombed by Germany a month ago, and even the Muggle Prime Minister's residence was destroyed."

"No, I'm still quite optimistic. If I were you, I would have to buy all this neighborhood while others are not optimistic."

As Hoffa said, he suddenly felt that his face was like Mance. A little awkwardly touched his nose.

"Speaking lightly, I don't have that much money."

Miranda sat at the table and looked at Hoffa with a smile: "Even during the war, the land price here is more than 500 gold per square meter. If we really win, I am afraid that I will work for ten years. I can't afford the attic of this house."

"Too real."

Hoffa laughed out of a pig cry, it's really the same in all ages.

Miranda: "It's you, you've been outside this year, have you made money? You won't really pick up trash every day, right?"

"You're up to it." Hoffa rolled his eyes angrily while holding the teacup.

Miranda: "Of course I have to manage. You came out so many years earlier than me. If I have no food after graduation, I can ask you to borrow money."

Hoffa: "Do you think I wear so worn, like a rich man?"

Miranda smiled backwards and fell together. After laughing, she took a sip of coffee: "Why, you sent back the granddaughter of the richest alchemist in history from dangerous France, and they didn't reward you with tens of thousands of gold gallons?"

Hoffa was taken aback, the smile on his face slowly disappeared, "How do you know so much?"

Miranda seemed a little embarrassed. Under Hoffa's gaze, she lifted the cup and drank for a long time. When she put it down, she looked as usual. "Forget it, don't talk about some of these, you must be exhausted, I will take you to see your room."

She put down the coffee cup and banged up the stairs. The house elves in the kitchen seemed to have been waiting for this moment. After Hoffa went upstairs, she carried a broom and chased in slippers. Up.

The second floor is warmer than the first floor. Maybe Miranda often stays here and takes care of more by herself. The four rooms surround a circular corridor. There are bird-shaped wind chimes every few meters in the corridor. The middle of the corridor is used for reading. In the middle of the lounge, there is a book of spells spread out in the middle of the lounge, which is thicker than Hoffa’s head.

Pushing open a door, Miranda said: "You can live as long as you want, just treat it as your own home."

"Fine."

He glanced at the neatly arranged guest room, and looked a little uninterested, neat gray sheets, neat gray duvet covers, wiped radios and desks. Even the most picky hotel testers can't fault them. But after experiencing so many weird adventures and weird scenes, he can no longer be interested in this daily residence.

If there are no ten killers hidden under the bed, I'm afraid I will not be able to sleep comfortably, he thought so, he felt that he was really a cheap bone.

At this time, the next room marked with Miranda's English house number attracted his attention, and Hoffa looked inside, itchy in his heart.

"Do you want to come into my room and see?" Miranda asked with a smile.

"That's not it." Hoffa said honestly.

"I don't know you well." Miranda said with a smile.

"Don't be unfamiliar, we lived in a room in the second grade." Hoffa joked.

"How old is that? I was only 12 years old then." Miranda stuck her tongue and made a face, but still opened the room for him.

The room is much more austere than Hoffa imagined. The color scheme is only black and white, black sheets, white walls, black desks, white chairs, and a few manuscripts marked with human anatomy nailed to the wall, as well as her own photos, not sure. That photo is hers or Miller's, because she doesn't wear glasses in the photo. Apart from this, there is nothing else, not even as many things as the room just now.

"Disappointed?" Miranda smiled.

"Very good, very personal." Hoffa was noncommittal. "Why, you didn't collect a cut-out book about me. It was filled with cuts from newspapers and all kinds of news about my adventures outside. ......"

Miranda was stunned for a second, then laughed angrily, and stabbed him in the chest with an elbow: "Pull you down, shameless, and cut the copy. Are you too narcissistic or I am too perverted?"

"Perhaps all, say, is it hidden in a drawer?"

"Go ahead, get out of here."

"Haha~"

Hoffa dodges the elbow, hides from his friend's fist, and ran towards Miranda's desk with a smile.

"Fine, you find, you find, I lose if you find a newspaper." Miranda couldn't, and said disdainfully behind him with her arms akimbo.

"Hmph, don't speak big words, under my electric eyes, even if you use the concealment spell..."

The voice stopped abruptly, and he saw a group photo of Miranda's desk, which should have been taken at the end of the second grade. There are three people in the photo. The middle one is lying on the hospital bed. The **** the left is pressing his head, and the other **** the right is holding a bottle enthusiastically and pouring a medicine into his mouth.

Hoffa just glanced at the group photo and immediately removed his eyes, the smile on his face disappeared like a low tide.