Harry Potter: I Am a Legend

Behind him, the light of the curse kept flickering, yelling and roaring endlessly. Before he ran far, he saw two people chasing after him. It was Grindelwald's men. They came out of the thick fog and scattered in all directions. , Followed it up.

Thanks to his familiarity with the castle, Hoffa separated the crowd, and with the help of the magic staircase, he quickly came to the back of the statue of Gregory the flatterer on the fourth floor, turned the statue and got into the secret passage.

This secret Dao Hoffa only knows, but has not walked through it before. The inside of the secret road was pitch black, and he had to hold on to the damp wall to be able to move forward with difficulty. The secret road became narrower and narrower, and the sound of the wall turning behind him from time to time. Without looking back, I knew that Grindelwald's men had caught up.

"Fluorescence flickers."

Spells chanted behind him, and the dark secret path was illuminated. He drilled harder in the secret path, but because it was daylight, his traveling speed was really not fast.

I don't know how long I ran, the fluorescence behind me got brighter, the sound of footsteps got closer, and the tunnel finally started to move upward.

Boom!

He smashed the floor leading to the outer layer of the tunnel and got out of an abandoned wooden house full of dust and haystacks. The dazzling sunlight shining in the sky made his cheeks hurt.

This is probably a mill on the outskirts of Scotland. On the snow and frosty ground, stands a broken and towering windmill, a place he has never set foot before.

Boom!

Afterwards, two men in black wearing bird cages also rushed out of the abandoned wooden house and threw Hoffa directly to the ground. The frosty grass was pressed out and creaked, and the three immediately smashed into a ball, two The man in black cut Hoffa's hands behind his back, dragged him, and dragged him back into the tunnel.

Hoffa kicked the man in black on the face, but was stopped by the strong iron cage without causing any harm. He couldn't help cursing himself carelessly, choosing to go to Dumbledore during the day.

Wow!

The small wooden door of the abandoned warehouse was smashed into pieces, and he was dragged into the tunnel, and he was about to be pulled in again.

"Killing Curse."

"Killing Curse!"

Suddenly, the green light flickered, and two consecutive spells shot out from the windmill, hitting the man in black who was dragging Hoffa, and they fell to the ground with a plop.

Hoffa, with his hands cut back, got up from the ground, and raised his head dizzyly. Under the huge broken windmill, a meticulous old man with combed hair looked at himself lying on the ground in sorrow, and raised his wand.

This man Hoffa had been seen before. Before the Quidditch World Cup, he specially dressed up and Nicol LeMay visited this guy once. It was Barty Crouch the old.

"Avada..."

Old Batty chanted a spell, apparently trying to kill Hoffa and the two men in black together.

"stop."

Hoffa raised his arm and said quickly: "I have no malice, not even a magic wand."

"who are you!?"

Old Barty held up his magic wand and asked, "Who sent you to follow?"

"I have something very important to tell you, Mr. Crouch, give me one minute."

Hoffa got up from the ground and saw the old Batty Crouch, his mind immediately became alive. If he wants to break the fate of the infinite loop, it means that he can never work in the way of the original book.

It should be said that Old Barty is also one of the officials of the Ministry of Magic, and it does not seem to be controlled. If he can get his help, it means he can get the help of the Ministry of Magic. If he can get the help of the Ministry of Magic, maybe he can do something to change his fate.

"Thirty seconds!" Old Batty pointed his wand to his chin: "Otherwise, he will die."

"Someone wants to spread terror in the Triwizard Tournament finals, just like what happened in the Quidditch World Cup. At least a few thousand wizards were missing at that time. This time it will be no exception. It will only be more terrifying. If If the Ministry of Magic does not take any action, the entire wizarding world may cease to exist at that time."

After a pause, Hoffa said again: "I don't know if you remember Gellert Grindelwald, he is still alive and inside Hogwarts. The two people you just killed were his men. , Now the Ministry of Magic must isolate the entire Hogwarts, otherwise there will be great terror."

After speaking, he stared at Crouch, trying to see what he could tell from his tight lips.

For a while, the Wizards of Crowe asked slowly: "You mean, the dark wizard, Gellert Grindelwald, who has been missing for fifty years, will create a terrorist incident in the final of the Triwizard Tournament?"

"Yes."

"Why don't you talk to Dumbledore?"

"He is controlled."

"He is controlled by someone?"

"Yes." Hoffa nodded.

"Do you think I'm a fool! Someone will believe this?"

The old Batty Crouch drank abruptly. He dragged Hoffa's collar and dragged him into the broken windmill.

He put his face in front of Hoffa's nose, looked at his eyes carefully, and then showed a suddenly realized look:

"These eyes, and your looks, I remember, you are exactly the same as the guy who came to me at the Quidditch World Cup, just a bit older."

"Who?"

Hoffa hadn't reacted yet.

Old Batty grabbed his collar, his face was livid, and he asked sternly, "Horva Bashir! The flying carpet merchant recommended the flying carpet to me. As a result, my son disappeared that night and said, "You and the other day." What is the relationship between that old man and the child!?"

Only then did Hoffa think of how he and Nico LeMay had pretended to deceive Barty in disguise before the Quidditch World Cup. For a while, he didn't know how to explain it.

"Okay, it really matters."

Boom!

The door slammed shut, and Old Batty threw Hoffa into the cellar under the windmill. Here, Hoffa saw little Batty tied into a dumpling and threw it on the ground with a piece of torn clothes in his mouth. Struggling desperately, but can't make a sound.

"Damn it, old Barty, you let me go!"

Hoffa struggled, but he was too weak during the day.

Old Batty tied Hoffa up, then walked to his son, and roughly tore off his mouth scarf: "Say, what is your relationship with him? Are you all doing things for Voldemort?"

"I do not have!"

Barty struggled with his head to distinguish.

"Smelly boy!"

Old Batty slapped little Batty's head with a backhand, "You still lie, don't you admire mysterious people the most?"

"I didn't do anything for the Dark Lord!"

"Lying," another slap fell on his face.

"Then what are you doing at Hogwarts, pretending to be Aristo Moody, assassinating Dumbledore, or assassinating Harry Potter? Don't tell me your vacation here!"

"you..."

"Give me right?" Old Batty grabbed Little Batty's hair, "Forcibly made him look up at him," said, where is your master hiding now? "

"Damn, he is your son, can you speak a little gentler!!" Hoffa on the side couldn't stand it anymore and cursed.

"What does it have to do with you?"

Old Barty turned his head abruptly, looking cold and cruel: "My family's affairs, I have the final say."

"Damn, aren't you afraid that he will kill you!? Rabbits will bite people if they are in a hurry!"

"He dare? I borrowed him ten courage. He didn't dare." Old Batty patted Batty's face with disdain, completely ignoring the murderous intent hidden in Batty's eyes: "Do you dare?"

Hoffa was going crazy, the old Batty didn't know what would happen, he still wished that little Batty would not resist. If this continues, these two people will die. Not only will Little Batty die, but also the old Batty will die. If you can't change the destiny of Batty and his son, let alone change the destiny of Aglaia and yourself.

"I can tell you where Voldemort is!"

In a hurry, Hoffa's mind turned quickly:

"He is very weak now, as long as you can find him and catch him, believe me, this credit is enough for you to defeat Connelly Fudge in the next election and become the new Minister of Magic."

There was silence for a few seconds.

Old Batty no longer forced Batty, he slowly let go of his palm and came to Hoffa, his mouth slightly open.

"you...?"

"Soldiers who don’t want to be generals are not good soldiers, Mr. Crouch, with all due respect, I don’t think Minister Fudge will do better than you. That position belongs to you. If you let us go, I will take you. Find the weak Voldemort and help you become Minister of Magic."

Old Barty's expression was uncertain: "Do you really think that I am looking for Voldemort just to become Minister of Magic?"

"This..." Hoffa's mind moved quickly. He saw the little Batty **** on the side, and suddenly thought of something, "Believe me, Voldemort and your son are not so deeply bound, as long as you get rid of Voldemort, he will definitely Will come back to you and become a good son."

The tied little Batty flushed with shame and anger. He stared at him, almost biting his lips to bleed.

But Old Batty seemed very satisfied. His expression finally eased, and he said, "How do I know that you haven't deceived me, and how can I know that where you took me, there are no layers of ambushes."

"You can ask your subordinates to inquire about Little Hangleton. If there is an ambush, you don't need to go. If there is no ambush, you just delay one day. You can kill me after you come back."

Hoffa said very sincerely.

Old Batty looked at him suspiciously and thought for a long time. He didn't pick out any faults from Hoffa's words. Finally, he snorted and tied Hoffa and little Batty to a pole together with a rope, and then Leaving the windmill in strides, it seems that someone is looking for an investigation into Little Hangleton.

Temporarily out of danger, Hoffa breathed a sigh of relief. After Old Batty left, he and Batty little were left in the cellar of the dilapidated windmill. They were both tied to the same pole. Immobile.

"I will definitely kill him." Little Barty trembling in a low voice.

"Don't think too much." Hoffa warned him.

"Why don't you resist? With your ability, killing my father should be easy." Little Barty asked in a low voice.

"Time is not up." Hoffa said bitterly, looking at the sunlight from the top of the dilapidated windmill: "And even if the time is up, I will not kill your father."

"why?"

"I will not kill anymore."

"Is it."

Little Batty's voice is not turbulent.

"You can't kill him, he is your father." Hoffa repeated.

"Don't preach to me," Little Barty suppressed his anger.

"I didn't preach to you. If you kill him, the people from the Ministry will kill you. They will shut you back to Azkaban and let the dementors **** up your soul."

"So what, it won't be worse than the current situation."

Little Batty murmured.

"You have been to Helheim, you should know what it is like. If you really want to die, why should I take you out."

Little Batty was silent.

"They will kill you, they will not care about you, and they will forget you because you are meaningless to them. There is no sympathy, no mourning, no fear."

"I was originally a meaningless person, Mr. Bach." Little Barty laughed to himself: "I can do nothing, have no goals, and have no vision. Only when I help others can I find a little existence. value."

"To shut up!"

Hoffa suddenly became angry. This anger did not know where it came from. He seemed to see the shadow of his own past in the young Barty. The shadow was so deep-rooted that he still couldn't completely abandon it, but he was so. I hate this vine-like mediocrity.

"You can't find something for yourself? If you don't follow Voldemort, would the old Barty not wait to see you so much?"

"What should I do? I don't know what I want."

Little Batty’s voice was not angry: "Maybe the old Batty is right, I would be nothing without him."

"Yes."

Hoffa suppressed his anger and said sharply: "There is a messy room, you sleep in it, and you think it's dirty, what would you do?"

Little Batty: "I will call Shining to help me clean up."

Hoffa: "Where is Shining?"

Little Batty: "I..."

Hoffa: "Will you clean up by yourself?"

Little Barty nodded reluctantly: "Yes."

Hoffa: "If you clean up the room and find that it's messy, what will you do?"

"I will... I will..."

Little Batty bit her lip and said with difficulty, "I will clean up by myself, maybe..."

"If you finish cleaning up the house and you find that your city is in a mess and no one is cleaning up, what will you do?"

Little Batty burst into tears, "Mr. Bach...no one has ever told me this..."

Hoffa faded a little, he felt a little sympathetic to Batty. Although this guy was the worst person he had ever seen, if it wasn't for the powerful old Batty, maybe he wouldn't be so muddled.

When the person behind choked, he listened silently, and the choking gradually stopped, Hoffa said softly: "You don't have to fight with your father again, and be soft. When the night comes, I will get you out of here. Promise me, go far, leave Britain, leave Europe, leave everyone you know, don’t look back."

"Then what do you do? Don't you need my help?"

Little Batty sniffed.

"As long as you can break out of this **** cycle, it will be the greatest help to me." Hoffa said to himself.