The days were much longer than Hoffa had imagined, perhaps because old Barty was very efficient, and after a while he heard the sound of apparitions from above, and the casual conversation between two men.

"Is it safe?"

"It doesn't seem like a problem. ”

"Did you detect a fluctuation in mana?"

"It was checked, and although it was very subtle, it covered a wide area, and it was determined that there were traces of black magic. ”

"Great. ”

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

"You go back first, and secretly watch me. ”

"Yes. ”

The voice of the conversation with Barty Sr. died down, and Barty Sr. stepped down from the first floor of the dilapidated mill and untied the ropes from Hoffa and Barty Jr. Then, he grabbed Hoffa and Barty Jr. by the arm, and with a crackle the apparition vanished.

Crackling.

With a soft sound.

The trio squeezed out of their apparition state, and as soon as they landed, a cold wind poured into Hoffa's throat from the hoarfrost-filled hillside.

He returned to the village of Little Hangleton, which was very different from the one he had left, a bleak ray of sunlight dissipating through the spiral gap to the ground. Under this strange light, the thick white mist was like a suffocating giant mattress, crushing the entire village, suffocating life, making the village desperately struggle to die as if it were suffering from hydrophobia.

Old Barty tied Hoffa into a dumpling with his backhand, so that he could only move his legs, and then he pushed Hoffa, firmly held Little Barty with one hand, 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 rice dumpling, squinted his eyes and said.

"Less nonsense. ”

Old Barty pointed his wand at him, and his other palm, wearing a black cowhide holster, grabbed Barty Jr.'s arm like a hook, not letting go in the slightest.

Not only that, but Hoffa could also detect the snooping in the distance, on the top of the mountain, in the houses on the mountainside, and even on the frosty pine trees, those should be old Barty's men who stepped on it in advance.

"Follow me. ”

He said slowly, chose a random direction, and walked over with Barty and his son.

And not long after he disappeared, a small purple snake slowly crawled out of the place where the three of them disappeared, hissing and spitting letters.

......

......

The former site of Riddle House.

And on the dark upper floors of the mansion, a crumpled baby sits in an ornate chair, squinting through the gap in the curtains, looking at the clearing below.

In the clearing, an old man waved his wand, leaving a series of mysterious marks on the ground. Behind him stood a short, nervous middle-aged man, who would take some potion powder from the large bag next to him and sprinkle it on the ground every time Nicolame waved his wand.

As he watched, a large snake silently slid to the edge of the ornate chair and turned into a thin purple-haired woman, who half-knelt down, leaned against the edge of the chair, and shook her palms and whispered something in the ear of the crumpled baby.

Tom Riddle listened indifferently, but gradually, his expression became serious, and when he listened, his face was gloomy and dripping, and he said to Naniji, "Call those two people downstairs." ”

The thin purple woman swirled back into a giant serpent, rustling across the floor and vanishing, sliding through the crack in the door.

After a while, there was the sound of footsteps on the stairs, and the door opened, and Nicol Lemay and Peter Pettigrew stood in front of it. Peter Pettigrew rubbed his hands flatteringly, and asked in a sharp voice, "Master, are you hungry, do you want some milk?" ”

"Shut up, Wormtail, next time you can say hello. ”

Tom Riddle listlessly beckoned to Nicol Lemay: "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 have to hurry every minute." ”

"There's no hurry. Tom Riddle said slowly, "How far has it been done?" ”

"Eighty percent, if there are no special circumstances, I will definitely be able to help you finish it before the Triwizard Tournament. ”

"There are no special circumstances..... Hum ......." Voldemort's soft fingers caressed the armrest, and a dangerous red light flashed in his eyes from time to time, and he suddenly asked, "Lemay, how much do you know about Hofa Bach when he was young?"

Nicol Lemay was taken aback: "What? What do you ask me for?"

"I say, do you know your partner?"

Voldemort asked reluctantly.

"I know him, he's a very kind guy. ”

Nicol Lemay said with a blank face.

"He is indeed kind and a little pedantic, but he is still on my side and serves me. I'm the greatest dark wizard of this century, if you want me to say. ”

"What are you trying to express?"

Nicol Lemay was impatient.

"What do you really know about his past?" said Tom, repeating the initial question.

"No, in fact, I hadn't heard much of him until 1937. Nicol Leme said dryly.

"Ah, that's a shame. ”

Voldemort was happy, he played with his palm with great interest: "I grew up with that guy since childhood, and I know his preferences well, when I had some conflicts with him because of a trivial matter, I killed him a cat, a cat, he was so angry that he came to me to theorize, and even I pushed him into the sea without repentance, and the first thing I got up from the sea was to bury the cat, hahahaha." ”

Nicolame slowly put away the impatience on his face, and his expression became solemn. I saw the ornate chair slowly turn around, making a screeching sound on the floor.

"Before Hofabach met you, he had a very good friend, the daughter of Drazes, and I think you should know, right?"

Nicol Lemay's expression changed, but he still said: "It doesn't matter who Hofa Bach likes with me, whether it's a cat or a woman, as long as he can fulfill my wishes, even if he likes mice, it doesn't matter to me." ”

"For someone like him, it's not easy to forget. I'm betting 10,000 gold galleons with you, and his idea of resurrecting that person is definitely higher than the idea that you want to resurrect your granddaughter. ”

"It's none of my business, I just care about the result. ”

Nicol Lemay said coldly.

"And what if he comes to stop you?"

Tom Riddle continued.

"Nanigi just told me interesting information that Hoffa Bach, who had been away for half a year, had returned. ”

"What? what a joke. Nicol Lemay was stunned: "What are we going to do when we come back, we obviously don't have anything ready." ”

"Maybe he doesn't think it's worth it to trade the resurrection of a dark wizard for his own happiness? ”

"No way. ”

Nicol Lemay flatly denied it, but his expression was a little flustered.

"Not only did he come back, but he also came with a group of people from the Ministry of Magic. I think you know the man from the Ministry of Magic, Barty Crouch Sr., who claims to be the most selfless director of international affairs in history. ”

"Huh?"

Nicolame stared blankly at the back of his chair and didn't speak for a long time.

I only heard a cold and ruthless voice from behind the chair: "He has never been a rationally driven guy, he doesn't care about any interests or glory." But instead, it was his unusually strong sensibility, which led him to often do things that were out of the ordinary, things that seemed stupid to ordinary people, but he took for granted.

I don't know what that Hofa guy is up to, whether it's his conscience or his sudden nervousness, I don't care, I just know that if you let the people in the Ministry of Magic know about my plan, you won't be able to get a full resurrection. How to do it, you can see for yourself. ”

.....

.....

"When are you going to take me to?"

On the hoarfrost-strewn hillside, old Barty asked impatiently.

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

Hoffa said perfunctorily, looking into the distance, where the sun was about to set, the deep blue covered the earth, the mist filled the pale mountains, and the treetops trembled slightly by the frost pine needles.

It had been hours since the three of them had arrived at Little Hangleton, and for the time he had been taking Old Barty in circles in the mountain stream, trying to delay the time into the night, knowing that he would be safe as soon as night fell.

"If I'm not mistaken, this hill is the third time you've come around here. Old Barty pointed to the footprints on the snow: "What are you thinking?" ”

Huo Fa, who was tied into a rice dumpling, did not change his face: "I haven't been to this place a few times, maybe Voldemort has cast some confusion spell here, so that others can't find him....."

Bang!

Old Barty pressed Hoffa heavily on a fir tree, and the frost on the tree fell slightly, and he pinched Hoffa with one hand, turned his head and asked little Barty, "Is your master in this place?"

"Mix... Eggs..."

Barty Jr. clenched his fists in suppressed anger.

Old Barty unceremoniously put his knee on Barty Jr.'s abdomen, kicked him bent over, and asked again, "Does your damn master live here?"

Barty Jr. lowered his head without saying a word, slammed into Barty Sr.'s lower abdomen, and tried to knock him to the ground, but he was still slapped on the head by Barty Sr., and his dizziness was pulled back.

"Absent?"

Old Barty asked reluctantly, taming a wild horse, and was determined to make little Barty bow his head.

All he answered was the grinding of angry teeth.

Hoffa sighed to himself, even after he had said those things to Barty Jr., he still couldn't soften himself in front of his father, even if it was a little bit of pretending.

He coughed heavily.

Ahem!

"In..."

Little Barty struggled to squeeze a word out of his teeth.

Old Barty became more and more dissatisfied, and he looked at Hoffa with a strong murderous intent in his eyes. But presumably to find Voldemort, he put up with his displeasure and let go of Hoffa's neck.

"Lead the way. ”

Time passed minute by minute, after the sun fell to the horizon little by little, the sky darkened, the air was filled with a faint bloody gas, a touch of hyperactive red appeared on Hoffa's face, and the silent blood boiled in his body, and the flow rate became faster and faster.

Old Barty sensed something, and he tightened the rope that held Hoffa, and threatened, "I advise you not to be careful! If you can't find Voldemort within ten minutes, I'll execute you immediately." ”

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

Hoffa said softly.

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

As he marched, Hoffa's pace grew larger and larger, gradually turning from walking to running, and old Barty finally sensed that something was wrong, and he roared, "Catch him!!"

Whoosh!

Several Aurors burst out of the shadows of the woods.

It's like blowing the horn of battle.

The second the moonlight was born, Hofa's body swelled up like a balloon, and in the horror of old Barty, he broke free of the rope almost in the blink of an eye.

Old Barty, who was dragging the rope, was dragged to the ground and dragged out of the snow.

Several Aurors raised their wands

"It's all petrified!"

"Faint!"

"Divided!"

In the moonlight, Hoffa plunged one hand into his chest, and the moment the spell hit, he pulled out his palm.

In the splatters of blood, his body disintegrated, turning into countless flying nightingales.

The nightingale slammed into the Aurors, pecking them screaming and clutching their heads and dropping their wands.

Little Barty laughed, and took advantage of the gap between Hoffa and knocked out Barty Sr. Bartty's men, and he broke free from his father's restraints, kicking Barty Sr. to the ground, snatching his wand.

"Feng Shui takes turns, old man!"

Little Barty happily pointed his wand at his father, happily reciting the incantation: "Drill the heart wrist bone!"

The red light flashed, and old Barty let out a terrible scream, and he rolled wildly in the snow.

"You rebel!"

Old Barty curled up on the ground, his meticulous gray hair scattered on his forehead, and he looked at his son in front of him with a deranged look.

"Lock me up in Azkaban for thirteen years, a whole thirteen years, and you'll pay for it!" Barty Jr.'s hand holding his wand trembled like Parkinson's, and he took a deep breath: "Avada ....."

Before the curse could be uttered, several nightingales swooped down, snatching his wand away, pushing him and pinning him against a tree, and the nightingale flew through the air and coalesced together, turning back into Hoffa.

"You can't kill your father. ”

Hoffa pressed little Barty and shook his shoulders: "You've killed thousands of times!"

"Then again!" Little Barty's eyes were as big as brass bells, and he looked at Hoffa feverishly: "This loser is not worthy of being my father, Mr. Bach!"

Syllable!!

Hoffa slapped him in the face, beating little Barty to the ground.

He scrambled up from the snow, dizzy, unable to tell where he was.

"Stupid or not, is everything I say is a fart?"

Hoffa yelled.

Little Barty was frightened and immediately covered his head, and he was completely like the two of them when he was scolded by Old Barty.

"Leave England, leave London, leave your father, go outside, and never look back. Hoffa kicked him in the ass and kicked him out of the way: "Get out!"

Little Barty got up from the snow and said in a panic, "Where am I going?" ”

Hoffa snapped a cedar, and little Barty rolled back ten meters.

Whew...

Hoffa took a deep breath, calmed his emotions, and said to Barty Jr., "Crouch, you can do more than you think. Don't look any further back, let's go, hurry up. ”

"You dare to let him go. ”

Old Barty got up from the ground, his cloak was scattered, and he was extremely hideous: "You let go of him, you let him come." ”

"Get out of here," Hoffa kicked Barty Sr. away and urged Barty Jr., "Let's go, let's go." ”

Little Barty looked at Hoffa and his father, and for a moment he lost his mind, and he walked backwards into the distance, very slowly.

"Let's go!!"

Hoffa screamed angrily, and he stumbled on the frosty ice and slipped away.

Old Barty struggled to get up from the ground and grabbed Hoffa by the neck, "Do you think I don't know what kind of character he is, what can he do except be brave in front of me, you let him out, he will be eaten by those people!"

"Then it's time to let him go!"

"I promised her mother to protect him!"

"Hell, can't you trust him once?"

"If he can make it, the sow will be able to climb the tree. With that, he waved his wand and pointed at Barty Jr., who was running in the distance: "Pass out!"

"You fart!"

Hoffa pressed Barty Sr. down again, and the spell deflected away from Barty Jr., disappearing into the dark night sky.

Little Barty was alone, and he climbed to the foot of the mountain step by step, constantly looking back at Hoffa and Old Barty who were torn together, looking extremely hesitant.

At this moment, a train bound for the unknown came from the mountain stream, and stopped at Little Hageton with a clang, and some pedestrians with large bags and small bags got out of the train, and Hoffa was overjoyed, and he shouted from afar, "Get on the train, get out of here!"

Little Barty saw the train parked in front of him and held the railing to get on.

"Let's go... Come on... Don't look back..."

Hoffa looked at Barty Jr.'s back expectantly, holding down Barty Jr., he had never been like this moment, hoping that Barty Jr. would leave this place soon, if he could leave, it would mean that the cycle was not unbreakable.

"Heh... Hahaha......"

Old Barty laughed for some reason, and out of thin air he shoved Hoffa away, stumbling a few steps to the foot of little Hangleton, and yelling, "Stop, stinky boy!"

Hearing his father's shout, little Barty involuntarily let go of his palm holding the iron door of the train and turned his head to look.

"Fake!!"

Seeing him turn around, Hoffa went crazy, and he took three steps forward, dragging old Barty by the arm with one hand, and covering his mouth with the other to prevent him from making a sound.

In the night, little Barty looked at the hillside from afar.

The crowd flowed past him, his face blank, completely unaware of what he was thinking.

Subsequently.

Poof!

There was a soft thud.

Without warning.

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

"No!!"

Old Barty, who was dragged by Hoffa, broke free from Hoffa's palm, his legs were weak, and he could barely stand on his feet.

Hoffa's eyes widened suddenly.

I saw little Barty in the distance, who was the same as the small dot, looked at the sharp knife that suddenly stabbed out of his chest, and touched the sharp tip of the knife in a daze, and then plopped and fell back into the snow.

The train rumbled away, and where Barty Crouch Jr. had fallen, a short figure and a rickety figure appeared in the shadows.

The short figure stepped forward, pulled out a dagger from Little Barty's chest, wiped it on the dirty trouser leg, and looked at the white-haired old man beside him flatteringly: "Is this okay?"