When Hoffa opened his eyes again, he felt a cold to the bone, I don't know if it was because this winter was particularly cold, or if he hadn't felt the temperature for too long. Maybe both.

He slowly got up from the bed, his body making a clicking sound, bones colliding with each other.

The Defence Against the Dark Arts office was a mess, ropes strewn across the table, and cups and plates were in disarray on the floor. It seems that there is some violent conflict experienced.

The cold wind blew in through the window, about half an hour before dawn, and in the cold wind there was an untraceable sobbing, which was the house-elf flash. It was lying in the corner of the office crying.

"What's going on?" asked Hoffa as he walked over to the elf, and as soon as he opened his mouth, he was startled by his own voice, his voice was hoarse, as if it wasn't himself.

"The hosts... The host is gone... Took the little host away..."

Twinkle wept and pointed to the ropes scattered on the ground.

Hoffa looked around, and sure enough, he didn't find Barty Jr.

Whoa.

There was a soft thud.

Miller took control of Moody's body and stood up and lit the fireplace in his office.

By the flickering light of the fireplace in the fireplace, Hoffa caught a glimpse of himself on the glass.

A few months had passed, and all the hair he had burned in the fire had grown, but he had spent too much time in Helheim, and now he had gone from being a teenager to a middle-aged man with blank eyes, gray hair hanging down from his thin head, and a pair of dull golden eyes under the deep nasolabial folds of his cheeks, he was more haggard than ever.

"Barty Jr. was taken away by his father. ”

Hoffa said to Miller, who was crouching in front of the fireplace.

"When is the time, you still have the time to take care of him?" Miller said weakly, "Did you hear what Aglaia said? Six thousand times, Merlin's beard... What exactly are we going through?"

"yes. ”

Hoffa whispered, he looked at his withered hands, unusually calm: "Six thousand times, if my fate repeats six thousand times, then the fate of little Barty and his father also repeats six thousand times." ”

"Killing my father. ”

"It's not just killing my father, it's both going to perish. ”

Hoffa thought that in the original book, Barty Sr. was killed, and Barty Jr. was also sucked dry by the Dementors and died, this fate is only one of the 6,000 cycles, which cannot be changed or disobeyed.

"What the hell are you thinking, Hoffa, what are we going to do next!?" Miller threw away the tongs and rubbed his head anxiously.

"The previous approach doesn't work, it doesn't make sense. I'd have to go to Dumbledore, to anyone I know. ”

Hoffa lowered his palm, and the flames in his golden eyes rekindled: "I have always avoided being discovered by Dumbledore, but that must have become a part of the fate of the Grim Reaper, and I must break the routine and find all the ways out of the impasse." ”

With that, he got up and left the Defence Against the Dark Arts office, and Miller hurried after him, "How do you know you didn't think that way six thousand times before? I mean, if you think that, then everyone else will." ”

"And what better advice do you have?"

"I suggest you don't do anything and find a place to live in seclusion. Whatever it takes to call him thirty-seven twenty-one. ”

"How do you know I didn't listen to you six thousand times before?"

Hoffa doesn't stop.

......

At this time, it was just dawn at Hogwarts, but the sky was overcast and there was no sunlight in sight, and the frost and snow were frozen so hard that running on it would make a creaking sound. The morning students shrunk into their robes and hurried past with books in their arms, with no expression on their faces.

It was supposed to be the end of Christmas, the end of the second event of the Triwizard Tournament, and the stage before the third event began, and the castle was full of students from other schools of magic. Durmstrang students wore thick brown-black cloaks, and Beauxbatons students wore silver-gray fringed robes.

When passing by those students, Hoffa began to be a little confused, although there were many students in the school, but there was no speech between the students, and the school of Nuoda was quiet and no one spoke, which couldn't help but make people's hearts beat.

"What happened?"

He asked Miller.

"That's how Christmas started. ”

Miller replied, "I don't know exactly what's going on." ”

The silent crowd quietly passed the two of them with textbooks in their hands and headed for the school auditorium. Precise without any friction, like a puppeteer under the string.

"Damn!"

Hoffa strode against the flow of people towards the top floor of the castle. The bustling school of magic had been transformed into a strange center at some point, and he was desperate to get out of that damn cycle and change his fate, and if he could, he wanted to change the fate of those around him, including these students who had fallen into dreams, but he didn't know what to do, he could only hope for Dumbledore.

Before he reached the top floor, he saw a lot of news reporters from the wizarding society, who were gathered in front of Dumbledore in rows, holding magnesium lights, pushing and shoving, and shouting, which looked much more normal than the quiet students.

"What happened?"

Hoffa searched for his memory, but he couldn't remember that this kind of thing had happened in the original book, and for the first time there was a deviation between history and his cognition, which made him both worried and happy.

After a while, a white-haired old man wearing a peaked wizard hat and an off-white robe walked down the spiral staircase of the office. It was none other than the current Headmaster of Hogwarts, Albus Dumbledore.

"Professor, Professor Dumbledore!"

Hoffa called out to Dumbledore, he parted the crowd, strode to Dumbledore's side, pressed his shoulder and turned him around, "Professor Dumbledore, it's me, do you still know me?"

”

Everyone around looked at Hoffa who suddenly appeared with amazement, and Dumbledore's blue eyes drooped, looking at him through the half-moon lenses, and his blue eyes flashed with confusion.

Dumbledore's unwavering appearance made Hoffa feel uneasy, but at this time, he didn't care much, and immediately put it in Dumbledore's ear: "Listen, you have to stop the Triwizard Tournament, this game is the opportunity for Tom Riddle to be resurrected, he asked me to come over, make the portkey into a trophy, and send Harry Potter over at the end of the game so that he can be resurrected." ”

Huo Fa said very quickly: "If you don't want to see someone die, and you don't want to see the outbreak of war in the future, you must stop the game now. ”

With that in one breath, Hoffa's heart pounded, and he looked at Dumbledore expectantly, hoping that he would take his word for it and make a change immediately.

After hearing this, Dumbledore couldn't help but laugh, and he patted Hoffa on the shoulder: "I understand, you wait for a while, and then I will talk to you in detail after I finish the press conference." ”

After saying that, he didn't wait for Hoffa to give his opinion. He stretched out his hand and said to the reporter: "Listen, I want to announce today's major event." ”

Suddenly, the reporters below them were boiling, they raised the magnesium lamps in their hands, and they clicked and exposed rounds of white light, almost blinding people's eyes.

During the day, Hoffa was very weak, and it was even more uncomfortable to look at the dazzling white light, so he had to cover his eyes and hide in the corner. But after meeting Dumbledore, he had a good idea that if he could get his help, he should have a good chance of breaking the damn cycle.

I heard Dumbledore say, "This year, the Triwizard Tournament was held at Hogwarts as scheduled, and so far, it has been a great success, our four warriors have overcome two difficult challenges, and the wizarding community has shown us the corresponding attention, but this level of attention alone is not enough......"

After a pause, he laughed: "For this reason, I announce that on the night of the final, all spectators who come to Hogwarts to watch the final of the Triwizard Tournament will not only be exempted from the entrance fee, but also can get a reward of one hundred gold Galleons, for this reason, we even have a super prize of ten thousand gold Galleons, a free lottery for all spectators, and all spectators who come to watch the game will have a chance to win ......"

But the hoffa in the corner is stupid, what!?

He looked at the smiling Dumbledore in the crowd and couldn't say a word for a while.

When Dumbledore read out a large section of the incentives, the reporters boiled over, and they handed the microphone to Dumbledore.

"Headmaster Dumbledore, are you telling the truth!?"

"Has the Ministry of Magic agreed to your move?"

"When will the last race start?"

"What drove you to make this decision?"

......

Hoffa carefully looked at the old man in the crowd, and finally noticed something unusual, the elderberry wand that Dumbledore had inserted into his waist was now spilling out some kind of dark energy, which was completely imperceptible to the naked eye.

Seeing the Deathly Hallows and Dumbledore's strangeness, Hoffa's heart plummeted straight down to the bottom. The hope that had just been born was shattered in an instant, and he thought of the night he first met Miller, who had accidentally broken into Dumbledore's office, and Dumbledore was a little strange at that time, and now, he was vaguely aware of what was going on.

Surrounded by reporters, Dumbledore even glanced at Hoffa, his eyes full of smiles. Hofa's inner uneasiness immediately expanded into fear, it was daytime, and he didn't have any frontal combat ability.

A pair of hands grabbed him in the crowd, and when he looked back, it was Miller.

"Let's go. ”

Miller stared at Dumbledore with Moody's magic eye, pulled Hoffa to turn around and walked away, walking towards the outside of the castle without looking back.

The two hurried down the swaying magic staircase, and Dumbledore, surrounded by a group of reporters holding magnesium lights, did not stop them, or even look at them again.

"Dumbledore has been taken over, we need to get out of here quickly. Miller said irritably.

"He doesn't recognize me anymore. ”

Hoffa remembered that the last time they met, Dumbledore was constantly pulling memories out of his mind, and perhaps the memories of himself and fifty years ago had been taken out by him and sealed in a glass bottle.

"I shouldn't have come to you, you plague god," Miller said irritably, "and anyone who has anything to do with you will not be doomed, maybe that's what he thinks, and it's safer to forget about you." ”

Hearing Miller say this, Hoffa breathed a sigh of relief.

He thought of the 300,000 years Aglaia had spent in Helheim, and the little setbacks he had experienced were so insignificant that he had to find a way to change the cycle.

"Then why don't you give yourself a shot and forget about it?"

He let go of Miller's hand and even walked in front of him, Miller looked at his back and pouted in dissatisfaction and helplessness.

When I walked to the castle gate, the temperature in the air was lower, and the sunlight in the sky was the same as the fake one, and it did not bring any warmth.

To add insult to injury, a cold call came from behind him.

"Where, Bach?"

Hoffa's body froze, Miller, disguised as Alastor Moody, froze, and a man in a cage sat by the fountain in the school yard, holding an unfinished book in his hand, and he put it away and slowly stood up. Quietly came to the two of them:

"I thought Helheim could keep you in lockdown. I didn't expect you to escape. ”

"Grindelwald. ”

Hoffa slowly stepped back, unfazed. If even Dumbledore could be controlled, he couldn't think of anyone but him.

He looked at the sky and pulled out a tube of septic potion from his waist.

"That's what you want to do, use the Triwizard Tournament to get the attention of wizards from all over Europe, and then gather them at Hogwarts so you can catch them all?"

Grindelwald: "That's right, that's what you mean. ”

"How did you do that, when did Dumbledore come under your control?"

"Even the greatest wizards will be tempted one day, especially since Albus Dumbledore has never been a great wizard in my eyes. ”

Grindelwald said, and a crowd of black-pressed people gathered from all sides of Hogwarts, dressed in shabby black clothes, holding wands, and expressionless.

Grindelwald shrugged:

"What should have been said has long been said, and all that remains is life and death. ”

The moment the wand was raised, Hoffa did not hesitate to raise the bottle of the septic potion, tilted his head and poured it into his mouth. As soon as the potion was raised, a heavy blow fell on his head, shattering the septic potion in his hand.

Grindelwald made a move, and he was shot more than twenty meters away, rolled on the ground several times, and fell into the middle of the students.

The student holding the book passed by him silently, without making a sound.

Hoffa rose from the ground and saw hundreds of spells that shot like lasers from all directions, illuminating his face, leaving him with no room for resistance during the day.

But before the spells could fall on his face, Miller appeared in front of him and raised his wand. Space distorted, and hundreds of spells were transferred to the distant sky above the Forbidden Forest, exploding in clusters of fireworks in the blackened sky.

"Little Goshak, are you going to do something to your father?"

Standing on the high stone steps, Grindelwald looked condescendingly at Alastor Moody's body and sneered, "If it weren't for me, you wouldn't exist." ”

"Don't expect me to thank you for that, Grindelwald, existence is not easy. ”

Miller raised his wand and turned back to Hoffa.

"Hurry up, you know the secret passage, behind the statue of Gregory. ”

"What are you going to do!?"

Hoffa asked Miller anxiously.

"You don't care about me, he can't kill me, you go and solve the problem!"

Miller said, flicking his wand, and a translucent ring of spells appeared around him, obscuring everyone's vision, "Get out of here." ”

"Damn it!"

Hoffa looked at the broken glass in his hand, and the rising sun, and knew that taking it any longer would only be a drag on Miller.

He tore off his clothes, covered his face, and stumbled away from the center of the conflict under the cover of smoke.