Harry Potter: I Am a Legend

In the dark room, the bald boy held a sharpened apple and bowed to face the chair. On the chair was a peculiar species wrinkled like a baby.

In the far corridor, Peter Pettigrew was hiding behind the cabinet and observing the room. He couldn't help but swallowed his saliva. I don't know if it was his hallucination. In front of the blazing fire, it seemed that it was not two people, but An eagle with its wings folded, and a poisonous snake sitting on the ground.

Without looking at the apple in front of him, Tom Riddle squinted the red eyes and carefully observed the old opponent in front of him. Suddenly, the wrinkled baby leaned on the chair, tilted his head and said like Ge You paralyzed: "Kneel. under."

Hoffa frowned, motionless, just holding the apple.

"I made you kneel, can't you hear me?"

Tom moved his head forward and repeated: "Kneel down, it's now."

Hoffa held the apple, but still did not move.

"An apple wants to buy me, do you really think I am a baby, Bach." Tom's red eyes flashed with abusive light: "Don't you want to resurrect your little girlfriend, show some sincerity!" "

Hoffa raised his eyebrows, put away the apple, and straightened up. When I came to the fireplace in the dark hall, I removed a porcelain plate from the wall and blown off the dust on it.

"Tom, although I ask you, it doesn't mean that I am your subordinate or servant. Don't deny it, you need me more than ever before."

Tom Riddle sneered darkly: "You think too much of yourself, Bach, I don't need you."

Hoffa put the porcelain plate on the table, turned his fingers into a knife, and cut the apple into eight slices in the plate.

"Those people in the Ministry think you are dead, but Albus Dumbledore doesn't think so, nor does the people in the Order of the Phoenix think so. They will find you and kill you. The most powerful ones you have ever The generals are watching now, and they have even betrayed you, Malfoy and Karkaroff. As long as there is a slight disturbance, they will swallow you alive. I believe you know better than me."

The little man on the chair twisted his expression a few times. He opened his mouth and spit, and sneered: "You still know more than anyone else."

"Don't mind, I'll know these things after a little inquiries, and everyone in the wizarding world knows them. According to the current situation, the petty dwarf star outside alone cannot protect you. In this case, you have to do it a little bit. Does the ridiculous vanity push me away?"

"They can't find me, no one can find me!" Voldemort said viciously.

"Is it?"

Hoffa leaned against the brick wall of the fireplace, took a slice of apple, clicked, said, "I'm not finding you."

"You...cough cough cough!" Voldemort was anxious and coughed again.

Hoffa shrugged: "How many people in this world can remain neutral and objective. Maybe no one except Ravenclaw can do it. Only I will not be prejudiced against you, Tom."

"I don't need any **** to be neutral and objective. You must either surrender or get out." Voldemort hissed, "Never trust Ravenclaw. This is a lesson I exchanged for my soul."

The conversation seemed to be deadlocked.

Click and click.

In front of the fireplace, Hoffa ate fruit slowly.

Tom licked his lips happily and mercilessly: "I will give you a minute of thinking time. After you finish eating that **** apple, if you still don't kneel in front of me, you are ready to kill me. Humph..."

Gurgling.

Hoffa swallowed one apple, picked up another one lightly, and said lightly: "Old Gunter House."

Kacha swallowed, and picked up another slice, "Seaside cave."

Whenever he swallowed an apple, Tom Riddle's face paled.

He picked up another piece and snapped it off.

"Gringotts."

"shut up!!"

Tom's red eyes almost split open, and his expression fell into an indescribable confusion.

Hoffa squeezed half of the apple, motionless, with a small smile at the corner of his mouth.

"Impossible...impossible...how is it possible...?"

I saw him in a cold sweat, lowered his head, and trembling like chaff all over his body, "Shut up...Shut up!"

When he raised his head again to look at Hoffa, there was only endless killing intent and resentment in his eyes, "You!!!"

Hoffa put down the apple slice and said slowly, "So, it's too dead to say, Tom, I hate loneliness, you are afraid of death, we still have the possibility of cooperation."

"You, do you dare to threaten me!?" Voldemort's broken teeth trembled: "To threaten the greatest in history, the Black Mage!?"

"I don't. Your life and death have nothing to do with me. I just want to make a deal." Hoffa said calmly.

Voldemort closed his eyes and his expression was unpredictable. After being quiet for three minutes, he opened his eyes and said coldly: I don't believe any words of you, I only believe in your actions. The Philosopher's Stone is useless to me now, and I will not accept that kind of transaction. "

Hoffa shrugged: "Now we can talk."

"I need Harry Potter, the Gryffindor boy protected by Albus Dumbledore." Tom Riddle said, the fire in the room was blown by a gust of wind, almost swaying. Extinguished.

"Hmm." Hoffa snorted.

"Don't talk about the other mess, we are not young wizards fifty years ago, you brought Harry Potter to me, and without arousing anyone's attention, you brought him to me, and Help me successfully resurrect and return to the state of heyday, I will give you the secret technique of Peverier's body..."

Hoffa listened to Tom's words, and suddenly, he was in a daze. At this moment, a deep sense of fate came to his heart. For some reason, he seemed to feel that this scene and himself seemed to have experienced it, just like when doing things in daily life. A sense of sight that has happened in this scene.

It came and went quickly, until Tom Riddle called him, "Hey, hello, are you listening to me?"

Hoffa raised his head and looked directly into his eyes.

Tom Riddle emphasized: "I said, I promised your deal, but on the condition that you send the boy to me, in exchange, I will give you the secrets of Peverier’s body, and even the resurrection. Spell."

"It's coming soon?"

"No, the time limit is one year. I also need to prepare the rituals, medicinal materials, and venues for resurrection. You only need to send him to me at the moment I am ready."

After a pause, "How about it, legendary wizard, this kind of thing is very simple for you."

"Yes," Hoffa looked a little solemn, "but I also have one condition."

"Say."

"In your preparation process, I also want to involve my people."

"Your people?" Tom sneered like he heard some great joke, shaking his head and sneer: "Huh, when did the high Ravenclaw Eagles learn to develop their party feathers."

"Nico LeMay."

Hoffa said calmly: "I want him to come over and participate in your resurrection ceremony."

"Don't think about it."

Tom Riddle refused him without thinking about it.

"You are too tender if you want to put someone by my side," Tom Riddle said.

"Sorry, Tom, the trust between you and me is not as strong as I imagined." Hoffa didn't have much expression on his face: "I think you will definitely give me trouble, so I need to find someone who knows how to do it. Come watch."

"Then there is no need for us to cooperate."

Voldemort smiled coldly, "Why do I know you won't trick me secretly."

When the two looked at each other, they could see the jealousy in each other's eyes.

Hoffa picked up an apple again and snapped it down.

But this time, Voldemort did not give in. He looked at Hoffa bitterly, and firmly grasped his fist that was not as big as gaoan, sweat dripping from his wrinkled face.

"Nico LeMay must attend your resurrection ceremony."

Hoffa put down Apple and said: "This is my only condition, and it is also an inevitable condition. As compensation, you can also propose your own conditions."

Under the fire of the fireplace, Tom Riddle's expression was as ugly as he had eaten shit. He looked at the two slices of apples left on the plate in the fireplace, and took a deep breath.

"Okay, okay, Mingren doesn't talk secretly."

He squinted his eyes and slowly said, "Since you want to place a hand by my side, you must also be my person by your side."

"your people?"

Hoffa raised his eyebrows and turned back to Tom Riddle's chair: "Wormtail?"

There was a loud and embarrassing sound from outside the door, as if something was rolling down the stairs.

With disgust on his face, Tom Riddle shook his head: "No, it's another loyal servant of mine."

He said confidently: "That man is the son of the current Director of the International Magic Exchange and Cooperation Department of the Ministry of Magic, Barty Crouch Jr., a poor worm who was imprisoned by his father in Azkaban.

I don’t care if you have heard of him or not, but you must rescue him and let him participate in your actions to ensure his safety before I successfully reincarnate. Otherwise, all your requirements will be empty talk. "

"Hiss!" Hoffa didn't expect to go around again, he smacked his tongue, his heart was half cold, and his face showed a wry smile that only he could detect. But he gritted his teeth and quickly cleared up his mood, standing in front of Tom Riddle with a cold expression, and proactively stretched out his hand.

"Okay, we are settled."

Looking at the palm of his hand in front of him, the sweaty Tom Riddle smiled, although his eyes were full of undisguised killing intent, at least for this second, he smiled happily.

"Hum hum......"

"Hum hum......"

"Hahahaha..."

He held his arms and laughed strangely, unmoved.

Hoffa: "What are you laughing at?"

"I thought about the orphanage fifty years ago." Tom Riddle said slowly, and his nostrils were wide open, as if he was tasting something very delicious. "It's really a feng shui turn, Bach. you've changed."

Hoffa put his palms away, turned around and left the fireplace room without reluctance, crossed the trembling Wormtail at the corner of the stairs, and walked out in a stride.

Behind him came Voldemort's unstoppable laugh:

"You changed, you really changed! Hahahaha!!"