The light of the spell flickered behind him, and the shouts and roars were incessant, and he didn't have to go far when he saw two men chasing after him, it was Grindelwald's men, who had come out of the thick fog and spread out in all directions, tracking him.

Thanks to his familiarity with the castle, Hoffa separated the crowd and quickly reached behind the statue of Gregory the sycophant on the fourth floor with the help of a magic staircase, turning the statue and burrowing into the secret passage.

This secret road Hofa only knew, but had not been walked before. It was pitch black inside the secret passage, and he had to hold on to the damp wall to make his way forward, the passage getting narrower and narrower, and the sound of the wall turning behind him from time to time. Without looking back, he knew that it was Grindelwald's men who had caught up.

"Fluorescent flickering. ”

Behind him came the chanting of spells, and the dark secret passage was illuminated. He had worked harder in the passages, but since it was daytime, he wasn't moving very fast.

I don't know how long I ran, the fluorescence behind me became brighter and brighter, and the footsteps became closer and closer, and the road finally began to go up.

Boom!

He crashed into the outer floor of the corridor and emerged from an abandoned log cabin strewn strewn with dust and haystacks. The dazzling sunlight shone in the sky, and his cheeks ached.

It was probably a mill on the outskirts of Scotland, and in the snowy and frosty land stood a ruined, towering windmill that he had never set foot before.

Bang knock!

Then, two men in black wearing birdcages also rushed out of the abandoned wooden house, and threw Hoffa to the ground, the frost and dead grass were pressed out of the creak, and the three of them immediately fought together, and the two men in black cut Hoffa's hands behind his back, dragged him, and dragged him back into the tunnel.

Hoffa kicked the man in black in the face, but was stopped by the sturdy iron cage, causing no harm. He couldn't help but curse himself for being careless and picking up the daylight to find Dumbledore.

Crash!

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

"Avada asks for his life. ”

"Avada suo!"

Suddenly, a green light flickered, and two consecutive spells shot out of the windmill, hitting the men in black who were dragging Hoffa, and they fell to the ground with a thud.

Hoffa, whose hands had been cut back, got up from the ground, raised his head dizzily, and under the huge broken windmill, an old man with meticulous hair combed looked at himself lying on the ground angrily, and raised his wand.

This man Hoffa had seen before, and before the Quidditch World Cup, he had gone out of his way to visit this guy with Nicol Lemay. It was Barty Crouch Sr.

"Arvada..."

Old Barty recited a spell, apparently to kill Hoffa and the two men in black just now.

"Stop. ”

Hoffa raised his arm and said quickly, "I have no ill will, not even a wand. ”

"Who are you!?"

Old Barty held up his wand and asked, "Who sent you with you?"

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

Hoffa got up from the ground and saw old Barty Crouch, and his mind immediately came alive, if he wanted to break the infinite cycle of fate, it meant that he would never be able to work the way of the original book.

To be honest, Barty Sr. is also one of the officials of the Ministry of Magic, and he doesn't seem to be controlled. If he can get his help, it means that he can get help from the Ministry of Magic, and if he can get the help of the Ministry of Magic, maybe he can do something to change his fate.

"Thirty seconds!" Old Barty pointed his wand at his chin, "or die." ”

"Someone wants to spread terror in the Triwizard Tournament final, just like what happened at the Quidditch World Cup, when at least a few thousand wizards disappeared, and this time will be no exception, it will only be more terrifying, and if the Ministry of Magic does not take action, the entire wizarding world may cease to exist by then. ”

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

With that, he stared at Crouch tightly, trying to see something in his pursed lips.

After a while, Crowwizard asked slowly, "You mean that the dark wizard Gellert Grindelwald, who has been missing for fifty years, will cause terror in the final of the Triwizard Tournament?"

"That's right. ”

"Why don't you talk to Dumbledore?"

"He's been controlled. ”

"He's been controlled?"

"That's right. Hoffa nodded.

"Do you think I'm a fool!

Old Barty Crouch burst into a thriving gulp, and he dragged Hoffa by the collar and dragged him into the broken windmill.

He pressed his face to the front of Hoffa's nose, looked carefully into his eyes, and then showed a look of sudden realization:

"These eyes, and the way you look, I remember, you are exactly the same guy who came to me for the Quidditch World Cup, but a little older. ”

"Who?"

Hoffa hadn't reacted yet.

Old Barty grabbed him by the collar and asked in a fierce voice, "Horva Bashire, the flying carpet merchant, recommended the flying carpet to me, but my son disappeared that night, and said, what is your relationship with the old man and the child that day!?"

Hoffa then remembered that he and Nicol Lemay had deceived Barty Sr. in disguise before the Quidditch World Cup match, and he didn't know how to explain it for a while.

"Well, it really matters. ”

Boom!

The door slammed shut, and old Barty threw Hoffa into the cellar under the windmill, where Hoffa saw little Barty tied into a dumpling and thrown on the ground, with a piece of rag in his mouth, struggling desperately, but unable to make a sound.

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

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

Old Barty tied up Hoffa, then walked up to his son and roughly tore off the towel from his mouth: "Say, what do you have to do with him? ”

"I didn't!"

Little Barty scrambled his head to discern.

"Stinky boy!"

Old Barty slapped little Barty on the head with a backhand, "Still lying, don't you admire the mystery man the most?"

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

"Lying," another slap landed on his face.

"So what are you doing at Hogwarts, disguised as Alastor Moody, assassinating Dumbledore, or assassinating Harry Potter?

"You..."

"Did you tell me?" said old Barty, grabbing little Barty by the hair, "forcing him to look up at himself, "Say, where is your master hiding now?"

"Damn, he's your son, can you speak a little gentle!!" Hofa on the side couldn't stand it anymore and scolded angrily.

"What does it have to do with you?"

Old Barty turned his head violently, looking cold and cruel: "I have the final say in my family's affairs." ”

"Damn, aren't you afraid that he'll kill you!?

"He dares? I borrowed ten guts from him, and he wouldn't dare. Old Barty patted Little Barty disdainfully, completely ignoring the murderous intent hidden in Little Barty's eyes: "Do you dare?"

Hoffa was going crazy, and Barty Sr. didn't know what was going to happen, and he still wishfully decided that Barty Jr. wouldn't resist. If this continues, these two will definitely die, not only little Barty will die, but old Barty will also die, if he can't even change the fate of Barty's father and son, let alone change the fate of Aglaia and himself.

"I can tell you where Voldemort is!"

In a hurry, Hoffa's mind spun fast:

"He's very weak right now, if only you can find him and catch him, trust me, it's enough credit for you to defeat Cornelius Fudge in your next election and become the new Minister of Magic. ”

There was silence for a few seconds.

Old Barty no longer pressed little Barty, he slowly released his palm, came to Hoffa, and opened his mouth slightly.

"You...?"

"A soldier who doesn't want to be a general is not a good soldier, Mr. Crouch, and with all due respect, I don't think Secretary Fudge would do a better job than you, that position would have belonged to you. You let us go, and I'll take you to the weakened Lord Voldemort and help you become Minister for Magic. ”

Old Barty's expression was cloudy: "Do you really think that I came to Voldemort just to become Minister of Magic?"

"This..."Hofa's mind was moving quickly, he saw little Barty tied up on the side, and suddenly thought of something, "Believe me, Voldemort and your son are not that deep, as long as you get rid of Voldemort, he will definitely return to you and become a good son." ”

Little Barty, who was tied, blushed and embarrassed, stared so hard that he almost bit his lip to bleed.

But old Barty seemed very satisfied, his face finally softened, and said: "How do I know that you have not deceived me, and how can I know that the place where you took me did not set up layers of ambushes." ”

"You can ask your men to inquire about Little Hangelton, if there is an ambush, you can not go, if there is no ambush, you will only delay for a day, you can come back and kill me." ”

Hoffa said very sincerely.

Old Barty looked at him suspiciously, and thought for a long time, he didn't find anything wrong with Hoffa's words, and finally he snorted coldly, took a rope and tied Hoffa and little Barty to a pillar together, and then strode away from the windmill, looking to find someone to investigate little Hangerton.

Out of danger for the time being, Hoffa breathed a sigh of relief, and when Old Barty was gone, he and Little Barty were the only ones left in the cellar of the dilapidated windmill, both tied to the same pillar. Immobile.

"I'm going to kill him. Barty Jr. whispered, trembling.

"Don't think about it. Hoffa warned him.

"Why don't you resist, with your ability, it should be easy to kill my father. Barty Jr. asked in a low voice.

"The time is not up. Hofa looked at the sunlight shining down from the top of the dilapidated windmill and said bitterly, "And even if the time comes, I will not kill your father." ”

"Why?"

"I'm not killing anymore. ”

"Yes. ”

Little Barty's voice was not wavering.

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

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

"I didn't tell you anything, if you kill him, the people from the Ministry of Magic will kill you, they will lock you up back in Azkaban and let the Dementors drain your soul. ”

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

Barty Jr. muttered.

"You've been to Helheim, you know what it's like, and if you really want to die, why let me take you out. ”

Barty Jr. was silent.

"They will kill you, they won't care about you, and they will forget you because you mean nothing to them. No one sympathizes, no one mourns, and no one fears. ”

"I was a pointless person, Mr. Bach. Little Barty laughed self-deprecatingly: "I can't do anything, I have no goal, I don't have a vision, only when I help others do things, I can find a little value in existence." ”

"Shut up!"

Hoffa suddenly became angry, and this anger came out of nowhere, as if he saw in little Barty a shadow of his past, a shadow so ingrained that he still couldn't abandon it completely, but he was so disgusted by this vine-like banality.

"Can't you find something to do for yourself? If you don't follow Voldemort, why won't Barty Sr. be so unkind to you?"

"What am I supposed to do? I don't know what I want. ”

Little Barty's voice was not angry: "Maybe old Barty is right, I am nothing without him." ”

"yes. ”

Hoffa suppressed his anger and said sharply: "There is a messy room, you sleep in it, you feel dirty, what will you do?"

Barty Jr.: "I'll call Twilight to clean up for me." ”

Hoffa: "Twinkle isn't there?"

Barty Jr.: "I ......"

Hoffa: "Will you clean up after yourself?"

Barty Jr. nodded reluctantly: "Yes." ”

Hoffa: "What would you do if you cleaned up your room and found it in a mess?"

"I'll ..... I would ......."

Little Barty bit her lip and said with difficulty: "I'll clean up after myself, maybe..."

"What would you do if you found that your city was a mess and no one was cleaning up after cleaning up your house?"

Little Barty burst into tears, "Mr. Bach..... No one has ever told me about these ......"

Hoffa was a little angry, and he had some sympathy for little Barty, even though this guy was simply the worst person he had ever met, but if it weren't for the power-hungry old Barty, maybe he wouldn't be so muddy.

When the man behind him choked, he listened silently, and when the choking gradually stopped, Hoffa said softly: "Don't conflict with your father again, be soft." When the evening comes, I'll get you out of here, and promise me to go far, out of England, out of Europe, out of all the people you know, and not look back. ”

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

Barty Jr. sniffled.

"As long as you can get out of this damn cycle, that's the biggest help for me. Hoffa said to himself.