Harry Potter: I Am a Legend

The day was much longer than Hoffa had imagined. Maybe Old Batty was very efficient. After a while, he heard the voice of Apparition from above, and there were two people talking if there was nothing.

"Is it safe?"

"It seems there is no problem."

"Have you detected any fluctuations in magic power?"

"I checked it. Although it is very subtle, it covers a wide area. It is confirmed that there are traces of black magic."

"Great."

"What are you going to do, Mr. Crouch."

"You go back first and take care of me secretly."

"Yes."

The voice of talking to Old Batty disappeared, and Old Batty walked down from the first floor of the dilapidated mill and untied the ropes on Hoffa and Batty. Then, he took Hoffa and Batty's arms, and the apparition disappeared with a crack.

Crackling.

Accompanied by a soft sound.

The three of them squeezed out of the apparition state. As soon as they landed, cold wind poured into Hoffa's throat from the frost-covered hillside.

He returned to the village of Little Hangleton, which was very different from when he had left. A bleak sunlight was spreading through the spiral gap to the ground. Under this bizarre light, the thick white mist was like a giant suffocating mattress, covering the entire village, suffocating life, making the village struggling and dying desperately like suffering from waterphobia.

Old Batty tied Hoffa into a dumpling with his backhand so that he could only move his legs. Then he pushed Hoffa a little bit, fastened little Batty with one hand and held his wand in the other, and said coldly: " You, hand over Voldemort's position."

"Hey! Don't push me."

Hoffa, who was tied into a zongzi, narrowed his eyes and said.

"Stop talking nonsense."

Old Batty pointed at him with a magic wand, and the other palm wearing a black leather sheath was holding little Batty's arm like a hook, and did not relax at all.

Not only that, but Hoffa could also perceive that if there is no sense of prying in the distance, on the top of the mountain, in the houses on the mountainside, and even on the frost-covered pine trees, those should be the men of the old Batty stepping on here in advance.

"follow me."

He said slowly, choosing a random direction, and walking over with Barty and his son.

And shortly after he disappeared, a little purple snake spit out the letter, slowly crawling out from the place where the three of them disappeared, hissing the letter.

......

......

The former site of Riddle House.

And in the dark upper floors of the mansion, a wrinkled baby was sitting on a gorgeous chair. He squinted at the open space below through the gap of the curtain.

In the clearing, an old man wielded his magic wand, leaving a mysterious mark on the ground. Behind him stood a nervous short middle-aged man. Every time Nicolémay finished waving his wand, he would take out some potion powder from the big bag beside him and spill it on the ground.

As I watched, a big snake slipped silently to the side of the gorgeous chair and turned into a thin woman with purple hair. The woman half-kneeled and pressed it to the side of the chair, holding her palm in the ear of the wrinkled baby and saying a few words. what.

Tom Riddle listened indifferently, but gradually, his expression became serious. After listening, his face became gloomy and dripping. He said to Nanniji: "Call the two people downstairs upstairs. "

The thin purple woman circulated again and turned back into a giant snake, rustling on the floor and disappearing, sliding out through the crack in the door.

After a while, pedaling footsteps sounded on the stairs, and the door opened, and Nicol LeMay and Peter Pettigrew stood in front of the door, rickety. Little star Peter rubbed his hands flatteringly, and asked sharply, "Master, are you hungry? Would you like some milk?"

"Shut up, Wormtail, you can change your greeting next time."

Tom Riddle beckoned to Nico LeMay listlessly: "Come here, LeMay."

Nicol LeMay took a few steps forward and said very dissatisfied: "What happened? Call us up. We are running out of time. We must hurry up every minute."

"No hurry." Tom Riddle said slowly: "How much progress has been completed."

"80%, if there are no special circumstances, I can definitely help you finish the work before the Triwizard Tournament."

"There is no special situation...humph..." Voldemort's soft fingers stroked the handrails, and a dangerous red light flashed in his eyes from time to time. He suddenly asked: "LeMay, you treat Hoffa How much did Bach know about things when he was young?"

Nicole LeMay was taken aback: "What? Are you asking me what to do with this?"

"I said, do you know your partner?"

Voldemort asked nonchalantly.

"I know him, he is a very kind person."

Nicol LeMay said blankly.

"He is indeed kind and pedantic, but he is still on my side and serving me. To me, I am the greatest dark wizard of this century."

"what do you want to say?"

Nicol LeMay was a little impatient.

"How much do you know about his past?" Tom repeated the first question.

"Not much, in fact, I haven't heard of him much before 1937." Nicole Le May said dryly.

"Ah, that's a shame."

Voldemort was happy. He played with his palm enthusiastically: "I grew up with that guy and knew his preferences well. At the beginning, I had some conflicts with him because of a trivial matter. He killed him a cat and a cat. Cat, he turned to me in desperation, and he didn't repent even when I was pushed into the sea. The first thing I got up from the sea was to bury the cat, hahahaha."

Nicole May slowly took away the impatience on his face, and his expression became serious. I saw that gorgeous chair slowly turned, making a harsh rubbing sound on the floor.

"Before Hoffabach met you, he had a close friend who was the daughter of Drasses. I think you should know, right?"

Nicol Lemay’s expression changed, but he still said, “It doesn’t matter who Hoffa Bach likes, whether it’s a cat or a woman. As long as he can fulfill my wish, even if he likes mice, it’s nothing to do with me. ."

"For his kind of emotionally supreme person, forgetting is not easy. I bet you 10,000 Jin Jialong. His idea of ​​resurrecting that person is definitely higher than your idea of ​​resurrecting your granddaughter."

"It has nothing to do with me, I only care about the result."

Nicol Lemay said coldly.

"Then what if he comes to stop you?"

Tom Riddle continued to ask.

"Naniji just told me a very interesting message, saying that Hoffa Bach, who had left here for half a year, is back again."

"What? Are you kidding me." Nicole LeMay was stunned: "What do we do when we come back, we are obviously not ready for anything."

"Maybe he thinks that it is not worthwhile to trade the resurrection of a dark wizard for his own happiness? Who knows, love and love, moral standards and the like."

"impossible."

Nicol LeMay categorically denied it, but his expression was a little flustered.

"Not only did he come back, he also came with a group of people from the Ministry of Magic. I think you also know that person from the Ministry of Magic, who is known as the most unselfish director of the International Affairs Department ever, Barty Crouch."

"what?"

Nicole Mai looked at the back of the chair blankly, without speaking for a while.

He only heard a cold and ruthless voice from behind the chair: "He has never been a rational-driven guy. He doesn't care about any benefits or glory. But instead, it is his unusually strong sensibility, which causes him to often do things. Some things are out of the ordinary, some ordinary people seem stupid, but they think they should be.

I don’t know what the guy Hoffa is doing. Whether he finds it in his conscience, or suddenly becomes nervous, I can’t control it. I only know that if you let the Ministry of Magic know my plan, you can never get a complete resurrection technique . What to do is up to you. "

.....

.....

"When are you going to take me?"

On the frost-covered hillside, Old Batty asked impatiently.

"It's almost there, it's almost there."

Hoffa said perfunctorily. He looked into the distance, where the sun was about to go down, deep blue enveloped the earth, mist filled the pale mountains, and the treetops were trembling slightly by the frosted pine needles.

Several hours have passed since the three of them came to Little Hangleton. During these few hours, Hoffa had been taking Old Batty around in the mountain stream, trying his best to delay time to night. He knew that as long as night fell. , He is safe.

"If I remember correctly, this mountain top, you have been here for the third time." Old Barty pointed to the footprints on the snow: "What are you thinking about."

Hoffa, who was tied into a zongzi, did not change his face: "I haven't been to this place a few times. I wonder if Voldemort has put a confusing spell here, so that others can't find him..."

boom!

Old Batty pressed Hoffa heavily on a fir tree, and the frost on the trembling tree rustled away. Holding Hoffa with one hand, he turned his head and asked little Batty, "Is your master in this place?"

"Asshole..."

Little Batty clenched his fists in suppressed anger.

Old Batty was not polite at all, pressing his knees against Batty's abdomen, kicked him down, and asked again: "Does your **** master live here?"

Little Batty lowered her head without saying a word, and slammed into Old Batty’s lower abdomen, trying to knock him to the ground, but he was still slapped on the head by the old Batty, and his dizziness was pulled again. go back.

"Are you there?"

Old Batty asked unwillingly, just like taming a wild horse, he was determined to let little Batty bow his head.

The only answer to him was the grating sound of angry teeth.

Hoffa sighed secretly, even after he had said those things to Batty, he still couldn't be a little bit softer in front of his father, even if it was pretending a little bit.

He coughed heavily.

Cough!

"in..."

Little Batty struggled to squeeze a word from between his teeth.

Old Batty became more dissatisfied, his eyes looked at Hoffa with a strong killing intent. But probably to find Voldemort, he endured his displeasure and loosened Hoffa's neck.

"lead the way."

Time passed by, and after the sun fell a little bit on the horizon, the sky darkened, and the air was filled with a faint **** atmosphere. A vibrant red appeared on Hoffa’s face, and the silent blood boiled in his body, and the flow rate became more and more. fast.

Old Barty felt something, he tightened the rope holding Hoffa, threatening: "I advise you not to be careful! If you can't find Voldemort within ten minutes, I will execute you immediately."

"It's almost...almost..."

Hoffa said softly.

After a few more minutes, in the cold light, the last sunlight completely sank from the side of the mountain into the shadows, and a green aurora swam from the sky like a snake.

As he marched, Hoffa’s steps were getting bigger and bigger, gradually changing from walking to running wildly. Old Batty finally noticed that something was wrong, and he roared, "Grab him!!"

Whoosh whoosh!

Several Aurors rushed out of the shadow of the woods.

It's like a horn of battle.

At the first moment of the moonlight, Hoffa's body inflated like a balloon. In the horror of the old Batty, he broke away from the rope almost in the blink of an eye.

Old Batty, who was dragging the rope, was dragged to the ground and dragged far away in the snow.

Several Aurors raised their wands

"All petrochemicals!"

"Faint!"

"Torn apart!"

Under the moonlight, Hoffa inserted a hand into his chest, and when the curse struck, he pulled out his palm.

In the blood splashing, his body decomposed and turned into countless flying nightingales.

Nightingale slammed into the Aurors, they hugged their heads screaming and threw their wands away.

Little Batty laughed, and through the gap where Hoffa knocked down the old Batty, he also broke free from his father's restraint, kicked the old Batty to the ground with one foot, and took away his wand with his hand.

"Feng Shui turns around, old man!"

Little Batty happily pointed his magic wand at his father, and chanted the spell happily: "Break your heart!"

The red light flashed by, and Old Batty screamed sternly, and he rolled frantically in the snow.

"You rebel!"

Old Barty was curled up on the ground, his meticulous gray hair messed up on his forehead, and he looked at his mad son in front of him with sorrow.

"Stop me in Azkaban for thirteen years, and you will pay for it for thirteen years!" Little Batty's hand holding the wand trembling like Parkinson, he took a deep breath: "Avada. ...."

The life-threatening curse had not yet been able to exit, a few Nightingales swooped forward, snatched his wand away, pushed him against the tree, and the Nightingale flew in the air and gathered together and changed back to Hoffa.

"You can't kill your father."

Hoffa pressed Barty tightly and shook his shoulders: "You have killed thousands of times!"

"Then do it again!" Little Batty's eyes were as big as copper bells, and he looked at Hoffa enthusiastically: "This loser is not worthy of being my father, Mr. Bach!"

Snapped! !

Hoffa slapped him in the face, smashing the little Butty.

He got up from the snow in a daze, confused and confused.

"Isn't it stupid, when I say nothing but fart?"

Hoffa yelled.

Little Batty was shocked and immediately covered his head, completely different from when he was scolded by the old Batty.

"Leave England, leave London, leave your father's side, go outside, and never look back." Hoffa kicked him on his **** and kicked him far away: "Get out!"

Little Batty got up from the snow and said flusteredly: "Where should I go? I don't know."

Hoffa snapped a piece of cedar in a snap, and Barty crawled back ten meters.

Huhuhu...

Hoffa took a deep breath, calmed down his emotions, and said to Little Barty: "Crouch, you can do more than you think. Don't look back anymore, let's go, go quickly."

"Dare you let him go."

Old Batty got up from the ground, with a disheveled hair, extremely ferocious: "You let him go, you let him come over."

"Go away," Hoffa kicked Old Batty away and urged Little Batty: "Let's go, let's go."

Little Batty watched Hoffa want his father. He had no idea for a while, and he walked backwards, slowly.

"Go!"

Hoffa yelled, frightened him and slumped out on the frosty ice and slid far away.

Old Batty struggled to get up from the ground and grabbed Hoffa's neck. "Do you think I don't know what he is? Except for being brave in front of me, what can he do? If you let him out, he will be caught by those people. There is no scum left to eat!"

"Then let him go!"

"I promised her mother to protect him!"

"Damn it, can't you trust him once?"

"If he can become a weapon, the sow can go up the tree." After that, he waved his wand and pointed at the little Batty's wand running in the distance: "Faint!"

"You fart!"

Hoffa pressed the old Batty down again, and the curse deviated from the little Batty and disappeared into the dark night sky.

Little Batty was alone, climbing back to the foot of the mountain, looking back at the torn apart Hoffa and Old Batty, with a hesitant expression.

At this time, a train bound for unknown came from the mountain stream and stopped at Little Hangleton. Some pedestrians with big bags and small bags got out of the train. Hoffa was overjoyed and he was far away. Shouted, "Get in the car and get out of here!"

Little Batty saw the train parked in front of him and held onto the railing of the train.

"Go...Go...Don't look back..."

Hoffa looked at Batty’s back with great anticipation, and firmly held down Batty. He has never been like this moment. I hope Batty will leave here soon. If he can leave, it means cycling. It is not unbreakable.

"Ha ha ha ha......"

Old Barty laughed for some reason. He actually gave birth to a force out of thin air to push Hoffa away, stumbled a few steps towards the foot of the hill of Little Hangleton, and yelled: "Stop, brat!"

Hearing his father's call, Little Batty involuntarily released the palm of his hand holding the iron door of the train, and turned his head to look.

"Fak!!"

Seeing him turning around, Hoffa was mad. He stepped forward three steps, holding Old Barty's arm with the other hand, covering his mouth with the other hand to prevent him from making a sound.

In the night, Little Batty looked at the hillside from a distance.

He was passing by in the crowd, his face was blank, he didn't know what he was thinking.

Subsequently.

Puff!

A soft sound.

Without warning.

The tip of a knife stabbed out of his chest at some point, as light as a dragonfly.

"Do not!!"

Old Batty, who was dragged by Hoffa, broke free from Hoffa's palm, his legs softened and he could barely stand steady.

Hoffa's eyes widened suddenly.

Little Batty, who was as small as the dot in the distance, looked at the sharp knife that suddenly pierced out of his chest, touched the sharp tip of the knife in a daze, and then threw it back on the snow.

The train rumbling away, where Barty Crouch Jr. fell, a small figure and a rickety figure appeared in the shadows.

The little figure stepped forward, and he pulled out the dagger from Little Barty's chest, wiped it on the dirty trouser legs, and looked at the white-haired old man beside him flatly: "Is this all right?"