Harry Potter: I Am a Legend

At Hogwarts, the walls of the auditorium hall were covered with shiny silver frost, and the ceiling was a starry night sky, and there were hundreds of mistletoe sprigs and garlands of ivy hanging. The four college tables were gone, replaced by a hundred small tables lit with lanterns, each with a dozen people sitting.

Men and women from the three major universities in Europe gathered together at the same time. The girls were dressed in colorful skirts, in groups, or shy, unrestrained, or showy. The boys also got together in a cluster on the left, holding their cups and talking gracefully, while their eyes turned around on the girls.

After a while, the four warriors led their dancing partners into the auditorium, and the people in the auditorium clapped.

Such a joyous atmosphere fell in Miller’s eyes, but it was like a small glass of boiling water dripping on an iceberg. The slightest wave could not be lifted. He sat in the corner, watching the four warriors and their dancing partners passing by, a kind of huge depression. Hovering over his head made him completely unable to blend into the environment, as if he could see Hoffa's body that was aging and dying as long as he closed his eyes.

Tolerating the discomfort, he took his place, and the people next to him made his debut. Not far from his seat, the Warriors were chatting, after winning two events. Harry, the young man trapped by him and Hoffa, could now adapt to his own warrior status with ease. At this moment, he is talking with Pasi Weasley.

Percy Weasley: "I have been promoted. I am now Mr. Crouch's personal assistant. I am here on his behalf."

Harry: "Why didn't he come?"

Percy Weasley: "I regret that Mr. Crouch is in a bad condition, very bad. Since the World Cup, he has been wrong..."

"What a nosy fellow."

Miller thought.

Again.

He took out the parchment with the sacrificial circle and glanced at it. "It has nothing to do with me."

He muttered to himself.

Putting away the parchment, raising his head, and pouring three glasses of strong brandy, a slight dizziness came from Aristo Moody's body, but it couldn't relieve his anxiety.

The warriors around him are still chatting, some dressed up like bears, Viktor Krum, is chatting with his female companion: "Ah, we also have a castle. I think it’s not as big as here, and it’s not as big as here. Comfortable. Ours is only four floors and can only be fired when enchanted. But our venue is more spacious than here-but the days in winter are very short and we cannot play on the venue. In summer, we fly outside every day Fly away, fly over the lake, fly over the mountains—"

"Okay, okay, Victor!" Karkaroff said, "Don't reveal any more secrets, or your charming friend will know where we are!"

Dumbledore smiled, his eyes gleaming. "Igor, keep secrets like this... People will think you don't welcome others to visit."

"Oh, Dumbledore," Karkaroff said, grinning wide and showing yellow teeth. "We all want to protect our private territory, don't we? Don't we need to be careful to guard the school hall we are entrusted with. ? Only we ourselves know the secrets of the school. Shouldn't we be proud of it? Shouldn't we keep these secrets?"

Several people's secret conversations got into Miller's mind. He was a little restless, some invisible pressure squeezed from all directions, as if this scene was familiar. Make him want to escape.

"Oh, I can't even dream of claiming that I know all the secrets of Hogwarts, Igor."

Miller whispered.

"Oh, I can't even dream of claiming that I know all the secrets of Hogwarts, Igor." Dumbledore said cheerfully, "For example, just this morning..."

Jingle bell...

The glass cup on the table shook for a while.

Everyone's eyes were attracted, and Miller stood up palely and walked out swayingly.

Dumbledore asked him kindly: "Alastor, where are you going?"

Miller perfunctory: "Just go around."

Karkaroff said contemptuously: "Calm down, old man, there are no dark wizards tonight."

Miller gave Karkaroff a cold look. Karkaroff looked like he still wanted to say something. After he glared at him, he swallowed the words abruptly.

Miller controlled Aristo Moody’s body and walked out of the hall, and he became more and more flustered as he walked. This flustered feeling originated from the bottom of his heart. After leaving his seat, in this colorful and gorgeous hall, he seemed to have entered a swamp. Same strange.

"Wait a minute, Professor Moody."

Someone stopped him again, this time he was still a woman.

A dark-skinned middle-aged woman, wearing a tall wizard hat and a black dress, rubbed her hands, looking a little awkward.

It's Professor Aurora Sinnista.

Miller recognized her. She was the professor of astronomy at Hogwarts. She lived in the tower all year round and almost never showed up. There are no social activities, this time at the Christmas party, it is rare that she can actually remove her eyes from the stars.

"what's happenin?"

For some reason, after seeing her, the strangeness of falling into the swamp disappeared. It's like a drowning man found land.

"Uh....."

Aurora Sinista looked very awkward, she looked at the blue magic eyes on Moody's face uneasy, and stopped talking.

"What's the matter?"

Miller narrowed his eyes. "It's okay, I'm leaving now."

"No! Wait a minute, Professor Moody, may I ask, can you dance with me at the prom?"

Aurora Sinnista spoke these words very quickly, turning her head as if she had exhausted all her strength, not daring to look at him.

This......

Miller didn't expect the other party to make this request, but it is normal to think about it carefully. This Professor Astronaut looks at the stars on the Astronomical Tower every day, and there is no intersection with others on weekdays. Surely no one would invite her to dance.

Generally speaking, he should answer the request of this woman, because there is no better match than them. The lame man and the autistic woman are more real than the **** and the dog.

To say it is simply a match made in heaven.

But the depression in Miller's heart suddenly increased at this moment. It was a depression tied to various rules, promises, and disguise, as well as a faint sense of sight. He felt that Aurora Sheen. Nista's face was almost vomiting.

"Great....."

Miller slammed his head.

"what happened to you?"

Aurora Sinista hurried forward and asked with concern.

Miller swallowed that promise abruptly when he reached his lips. He suddenly raised his hand, pushed away the astronomy professor, and exclaimed: "Go away, old lady, I won't dance with you."

The astronomy professor was stunned and looked at Moody’s scarred face stupidly. He suddenly hid his face and wept. He turned around and ran. When he ran the corner, he even stepped on his skirt and almost fell. Fell to the ground.

After scolding an irrelevant woman, Miller suddenly felt extremely refreshed inexplicably, as if suddenly the sky was wide and the ocean was jumping, and all the good things became easily accessible.

He straightened out the bow tie around his neck, looked around, then walked to a Bosbatten senior girl ten meters away from him, bent down, and asked, "Excuse me, can you dance with me? Huh?"

The beautiful blonde girl was talking and laughing with her friends and drinking. When she turned her head and saw Aristo Moody’s broken face, she could not help but let out a short scream, and subconsciously splashed the glass of fruit wine on him. Face.

The people next to him couldn't help but laughed, and Miller also laughed. The drink rolled off his face, and when he raised his hand, he slapped his backhand on the beautiful girl's face.

Snapped!

All the Bussbarton students around who slapped him were dumbfounded. They stared at Miller with the look of an ancient beast, completely unable to understand who could do such a thing.

Miller couldn't help but grabbed the beautiful girl's shoulders, tilted his head and smiled: "Why, haven't you seen a woman hit?"

The extremely provocative sentence was like ice water poured into a hot oil pan, triggering a violent riot on the spot. Almost all of Boothbarton’s students put down their cups, and chaos was on the verge of breaking out.

"come on!"

Miller was breathing fast, clutching the shoulders of the girl next to him tightly.

But the chaos hadn't had time to diffuse. All the Bussbarton students who came around had lost their eyes. They were silent for a few seconds like sleepwalking, and then mechanically picked up the cup again, as if they hadn’t seen anything. It’s time to chat. The chat, the drink that deserves to drink, the dance that deserves to dance.

Miller's abnormal movement was like a pebble thrown into a deep pool. After a small splash of water was stirred up, it disappeared invisible.

Drops of cold sweat flowed from Miller's pale face.

He realized something was wrong with this place.

Everything is controlled.

"Yeah!"

Miller gritted his teeth, wrapped the young beauty's waist unceremoniously, and squeezed her **** with his palm.

But the girl looked at him with unusually calm eyes.

......

......

Helheim, on the sand in the arena, Arvada smiled and asked Hoffa: "It's all here, do you want to continue playing?"

"What are you playing?" Hoffa asked Arvada coldly.

"Reaper's game."

"What?" Little Batty dropped the stone and asked in wonder: "Didn't we just win, why should we continue?"

"How can it be counted."

Avada patiently explained: "It was a game played by Grim Reaper and Davis Sawyer. It was not a game with Mr. Hoffabach. Mr. Bach just appeared in friendship as an opponent. If you really want to participate in the game, Mr. Bach must defeat his opponent."

"No."

Hoffa thought of the souls hanging on the Path of Thorns, thought of what Aglaia said to him, and couldn't help but blurt out: "I don't participate in the game of death."

"So it's such a shame."

Avada sighed slightly, "It's okay, but I kindly remind you. Death is about to forget you. If you don't participate now, I'm afraid you won't have another chance in the future."

"What happens if you are forgotten by the **** of death?"

"Nothing will happen, you will be like them."

Arvada pointed to the ghosts in the carnival on the stands and said: "The ghosts who have just come to Helheim, they have enthusiasm, temperature, memory, and hope, but those are the only things they have. Wait for them to forget. After all this, there is no value anymore. The remaining soul stays here, neither enters the cycle nor has a goal. This is the real underworld, repetitive and monotonous. I hope you can enjoy it, Mr. Hoffabach."

After speaking, Arvada turned and left, and his figure was soon blurred in the fog of the dead kingdom.

"It's only a few days? Can I think about it again!?" Hoffa shouted behind him.

"How many people do you think die every day? Although there are not many people who can walk across the bridge, you are definitely not the only one." Avada's misty voice came from a distance.

Little Batty said anxiously: "Mr. Bach, he is leaving. What should I do?"

"and many more!"

Hoffa shouted to Arvada.

Arvada stood still and looked back at Hoffa.

Hoffa gritted his teeth: "What if I win Death? Can I take people out?"

"You can even become a **** of death if you win the **** of death. Naturally, you can do whatever you want."

The Avada language is not surprising, and he doesn't know whether it is extreme confidence or mere lip service, so he just said it casually.

Hoffa's heart thumped and thumped. If he has a heart now, I'm afraid he has jumped to 200. How to choose? The answer is self-evident.

In the underworld where no time passes, only those worms that are constantly turning into flesh are the only visible changes. He has nothing to do. He doesn't want to throw himself into endless revelry like those meaningless ghosts, and he doesn't want to just sit in place and sit down meaninglessly forever.

He wants to take Aglaia back to the real world, walking on the soft and delicate beaches, tasting different flavors of ice cream, scenic foods of various countries, and experiencing the four seasons like a normal person, sweet and bittersweet.

"What is the game?" he asked Arvada hard.

Arvada clapped his hands, and two huge konjac flowers squirmed out on the blood-red sand. The konjac spun open, and a red fruit human body was lying in each of them.

The human body has no characteristics, no hair, and no genitalia like Avada, except for that, it is a standard male.

"This is the body that the **** of death prepared for you. Of course, you can also prepare your own body. Ask who wants you to know it. In short, there is no need to die twice in Helheim, but as long as the body is destroyed, the rescue will be judged. Failure, understand?"

"Failure will be sent to the Way of Thorns."

"accurate."

Arvada said.

"Is everyone the same rules?"

"Ah~ of course."

Avada smiled, a bubble appeared out of thin air under his feet, the bubble grew bigger and bigger, and finally turned into a happy clown's head.

Hoffa clenched his fists secretly. It occurred to him that when he was fighting Davis, he had no flesh at all, which meant that Davis could not kill himself at all, but he had flesh and he could destroy at will. His failure was doomed. Yes, Reaper never thought of letting him win from the beginning.

He wanted to question Arvada, but he had already stepped on the balloon to fly high again. The sound in the arena is like the volume **** being constantly turned up, and the shouts of countless ghosts are rushing at the top of the arena like a torrent.

Hoffa and Batty got into the body prepared for them by the **** of death. It felt like putting on a rubber suit. There was not much discomfort, and it was not very sensitive. It was like manipulating an unfamiliar game character. Use it to see, use it to make movements, but you can't feel too much with it.

In the shouts of countless fanatical ghosts, the door of the duel field slowly opened. Little Batty's expression was tense, he leaned against Hoffa tightly: "What kind of opponent will Death arrange for you?"

"I don't know." Hoffa was also very nervous.

"Your opponents should be terrible."

"Yes." Hoffa said dryly.

Arvada flew up into the sky in a balloon, holding the microphone: "The next challenger, let us welcome from the magical world, quiet and fanatical, clever but stupid, simple but complicated, young but old. Wizard Winklau, Mr. Hoffa Bach!"

Hush! !

The Unidentified Ghost also booed his disdain for the challenger as he did to Davis.

Hoffa listened to Arvada's introduction, and thought that he was a schizophrenic patient. He didn't even know that he had so many weird characteristics.

Just listen to Arvada continue to say: "In his short but turbulent life, he has faced countless opponents and defeated countless enemies, but he never seemed to really take external enemies to his heart. Rumors Every arrogant Ravenclaw will always have an opponent, the only opponent, that opponent is like a shadow, looming, and it will be difficult for the person who uses it to see its true meaning in his life.

But in the kingdom of the dead, in the eternal arena. The **** of death prepared a special gift for him, so that he could peep into the mystery of life, now please, Hoffabach's first opponent, from the past, the master of transformation! "

Creak.

The door on the other side of the duel was slowly opened.

Hoffa protected Batty from back and forth, and then he saw a boy with black hair and black eyes coming out on the other side of the duel field, two or three years younger than himself. The boy was wearing a black Hogwarts uniform with the blue eagle pattern of Ravenclaw College.

He was stunned.

That is the young version of himself.