An old man and a young man wandered through the mist-shrouded grounds, passing between two long rows of tents.

The early morning sun shone through the mist and fell on Hoffa's face, making him a little uncomfortable. But despite this, he still has to admit that it is really lively.

In the fog, there was an endless tent, on which fluttered bundles of triangular banners with the flags of the Bulgarian and Irish national teams, and under the flags, there were rows of tents like small hills, most of which looked nothing special. Like Muggle tents, but some of them are very individual, and they are obviously tents, but they are very interesting with chimneys, bellstrings, or weather vanes on them.

The air was filled with the scent of honeysuckle and gorse, and the roadside could see a strong man sitting on the ground, sleeping on a printed blanket, his beard stained with wine, snoring as he slept, apparently late to the party last night.

The heather is full of clumps of yellow gorse, sparkling in the newborn sun. Accustomed to the cloudy soil of fifty years ago, suddenly coming to this kind of leisurely venue will really make him refreshed and feel like a world away.

Nicol Lemay, "See, it's all your work." ”

Hoffa pretended not to hear.

When the two of them reached the middle of the first field, Nicol Lemay stopped, and there stood a huge tent, larger and more ornate than all the tents next to it. It was so extravagant that it resembled a small palace, with a few live peacocks tied to it at the entrance, and a small fountain.

"This is our place, do you like it?" said Nicol Lemay grinning.

"It's pompous. ”

Hoffa raised an eyebrow.

If he had seen this kind of thing five years ago, he might have jumped in surprise. But now, he began to look at the tent in front of him with critical eyes, the fountain was too small, the flowers were too miscellaneous, and the peacocks in front of the door did not seem to be in good spirits.

"Don't mind, Ali Bashir is a well-known supplier of flying carpets in Arabia. Nicol Lemay said: "You still have to do a full set of plays. ”

"I didn't say I didn't like it, I liked it. ”

Hoffa was the first to open the tent, "Let's go inside." ”

The tent was cast with a Silent Stretching Spell, and the inside was larger than the outside, three stories high, with a very intricate carpet on the floor, and the low red cabinets around it were filled with strange metal decorations of the sun and moon, and some tall teapots, and the sweet treats stacked on the coffee table like pagodas, and the smell of milk filled the air.

Hoffa looked at the Arabian-style tent curiously, and picked up a few decorations from time to time to look at them.

Nicol Lemay stood in front of a floor-to-ceiling mirror in the tent, turned his head and said to Hoffa, "Can you take a hand, please drive?" ”

Hoffa put down the lamp pot in the shape of Aladdin's magic lamp in his hand, stood behind Nicol Lemay, and helped him take off his gray cloth coat, revealing his crumpled body.

Nicol Lemay then took out a gray muddy bottle of compound potion from his pocket, raised his hand and frowned, and swallowed it.

Goo-goo-goo.

In the mirror, the wizened old man, covered with age spots, swelled up as if he were inflated. I saw that his thin body gradually straightened up, and his sparse hair gradually became dense and black, and finally, he became a Middle Eastern man with black hair and a hooked nose, looking about forty years old.

"Whew... Whew..."

When the change ended, Nicol Lemay gasped a few times and shook his head, "No, I'm old, and I'm resistant to the compound decoction, and it's estimated that it can only last for less than an hour." ”

Hoffa's eyes drifted to the back of Nicolamay's hand, and although he was getting younger, the age spots had not completely disappeared.

Nicol Lemay walked to the closet of the tent, picked it up, and sighed as he went: "When Chloe is alive, I should go into complete hiding." ”

"Do you really love her that much?" asked Hoffa, sitting on the carpet, "you have so many different generations. ”

"She was feared by her parents since she was a child because of her bloodline ability, and I brought her up. When you have a grandchild, you will understand me and tell me that I am more like friends with her. ”

"You also sent her to France?"

"There was no war yet, and I hoped that God would cure her of her illness, but it backfired, at least in her, and God did not show His mercy. ”

"Is there really a God?"

Hoffa shrugged with a sneer and pointed to the top of the tent: "If you want me to say, Allah Allah, whom these people believe, does not exist. ”

"It doesn't have to be God, in the words of alchemy, it should be called a higher level of existence. ”

"God?"

"More than that, higher. ”

Nicol Lemay dressed himself and became a merchant wrapped in a tall Arab turban, dressed in a Baghdad robe, with a peacock feather stuck in his turban.

"Let's go, I'll take you to Barty Crouch. ”

"It's not impossible for me to go alone. Hoffa muttered.

"Well, you're so young, no matter how fancy you are, Crouch won't remember your name, let alone let you into his tent. Nicol Lemay shook his head, "He's a man of power." ”

When the two went out again, the sun had risen in mid-sky.

The hostility contained in the strong sunlight made Hoffa dazed for a while, as if everything in front of him was covered with a crystal clear film, and he had to squint his eyes.

Originally, Hoffa wanted to see if he could meet Harry, Ron, Hermione, the legendary trio in the Quidditch World Cup.

But under this sun, he didn't want to see anything, and all he could think about was going back to the tent and sleeping until it was dark and getting up. But this thought is just a thought, and he has to go to Barty Crouch Jr., and time does not allow him to waste.

He plucked a twig and turned it into a pair of sunglasses, which he held on his nose to barely block out the sun, which made him feel better.

Nicola Mae slowed down and lowered his voice beside him: "It's okay, when I go back this time, I will help you make some potions to suppress the power of the blood clan in your body." ”

"We'll talk about it when we get back. ”

Hoffa felt as if someone was watching him behind him, so he looked back, but didn't see any familiar figures. There are only a few foreign wizards who carry water bottles and get up early in the morning to fetch water.

Time passes.

The number of people in the camp gradually increased, and many young boys and girls shuttled through the crowd and made noise. There are domestic and foreign languages, and they speak languages that they can understand or don't understand.

Hoffa was somewhat envious of them.

So young and beautiful, in groups. And his companion was a bad old man.

After passing through a tent with a picture of Wilcotor Krum, he and Nicol Lemay came to another site, where there were far fewer tents and a lot of space between them.

One of the tents loomed in the jungle, and that tent was different from the others, it kept the shape of a tent, but it was not made of fabric, but of wood. It's like a small house, with some wood chips on top, doors and windows, and a small garden around the perimeter.

The small garden has a yellow path paved with clay and stones, and is surrounded by a low wall, about three feet high, with wooden gratings at the top of the walls. At the corner of the fence is a brown board and three gilded balls, on which are engraved the words "Barty Crouch - Do Not Disturb the Idlers".

Nicol Lemay stood under three gilded balls and knocked on the door.

For a while, no one opened the door,

The two stood in the doorway and looked at each other, and Hoffa stepped back and looked into the window, which was covered with a white veil, like the whiteness of the eyes, so that people could not see what was inside.

But he could detect that someone was standing behind the door, bending over to look at himself vigilantly through the crack in the door, with a wand in his hand, this guy had been standing behind the door for a long time.

Nicol Lemay, disguised as Ali Bashire, knocked on the door again and asked politely, "Is Mr. Crouch at home, Minister Fudge recommended me here?" ”

The eyes behind the crack in the door narrowed, and the people in the room slowly retreated, about ten meters or so, and when the time came, he said solemnly: "Here it is." ”

With that, he made a sound of neat footsteps, came to the door, and clicked the door open.

The middle-aged man behind the door had short, neatly combed black hair, a straight waist and stiff movements, and wore a spotlessly structured suit and tie. The toothbrush-like mustache immediately reminded Hoffa of Adolf Hitler.

"Ah, hello hello. ”

Nicol Lemay stretched out his hand tremblingly, "You must be Mr. Barty Crouch, long admiring." ”

The meticulous man hesitated for a moment, and then shook Nicol Lemay's fingertips reservedly: "You are ...... Ali Bashir President of Arabian Flying Carpet Import & Export Company?

"Exactly...... Next. ”

Nicol Lemay turned his fingers, conjured up a golden business card and handed it over, "This, this is my nephew and secretary...... Horva Bashir. ”

Barty Crouch looked at the business card, looked up at Hoffa again, and frowned, but finally he turned sideways with a faint displeasure: "???????????" (please enter)

”????“ (Thank you)

Nicolame entered the room with a smile on his face.

Hoffa secretly shouted that old Barty Crouch could even speak Arabic, and if he hadn't brought Nicol Lemay with him, he was afraid that he would be exposed before he entered the door.

After entering the door, his eyes quickly turned around the room, and in the blink of an eye, he used a powerful spiritual force field to scan the entire room.

It's an old-fashioned three-bedroom unit with a bathroom and kitchen. There is a basement under the kitchen floor, and the entrance to the basement is sealed with magic.

Tom Riddle thought that his subordinate Barty Crouch Jr. was imprisoned in Azkaban, but what he didn't know was that Barty Crouch Sr. had been locked up at home since a year earlier, at the behest of his dying wife, to replace his son, Barty Jr., Voldemort's loyal servant, from Azkaban.

It wasn't released until the day of the Quidditch World Cup, and he played an important role in the Goblet of Fire, hiding at Hogwarts in the guise of Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, Mad-Eye Moody.

And he was Hoffa's target.

"You may be seated. ”

Barty Crouch Sr. pointed to the sofa, his eyes wandering over Hoffa's silver earrings and sunglasses, frowning from time to time.

Nicol Lemay sat naturally in his chair, his fingers crossed on his lower abdomen, and Hoffa stood behind him.

"Coffee or tea?" said Barty Crouch to the kitchen.

"A glass of water would be fine, Mr. Crouch, with all due respect, your lodging is hard to find. ”

"Ah, I'm a person who prefers to be quiet in private and doesn't like to be disturbed. Barty Crouch Sr. said blandly.

"It's been a busy lately, the World Cup. Nicol Lemay winked at Hoffa.

"Thankfully, there's a lot going on in the ministry, but that's all within my purview. ”

"Do you live alone?"

"Yes. ”

Old Barty came out of the kitchen with two glasses of water, handed them to Nicol Lemay, and ignored Hoffa, who was standing behind him.

"Why don't you find a servant to serve you?" asked Nicol Lemay "casually" as he took the glass, "For example, a house-elf or something? ”

Barty Crouch's eyes sharpened a little, "It's none of your business, I've heard that you're here to talk about trade." ”

He was sitting precariously, as if he were a diplomat sitting in the United Nations, but at this moment, Nicol Lemay, disguised as Ali Bashir, rolled his eyes and stopped speaking.

Hoffa hurriedly bent down to look, and secretly exclaimed, only to see Nicol Lemay roll his eyes, and a trace of saliva overflowed from the corner of his mouth, and the old man was demented again.

He quickly took off his sunglasses, his golden eyes turned black, and explained, "I'm sorry, Director Crouch, my uncle drank too much last night and is not in good spirits today. ”

Looking at the drooling man in front of him, Barty Crouch unabashedly showed a look of disgust, but when he saw Hoffa's appearance clearly, he was slightly stunned, frowned and asked, "Are you a Hogwarts graduate?"

"It's not. ”

Hoffa's heart jumped: "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Barty muttered, "you look a little like our House lore." ”

"Really?"

Hoffa grinned, the muscles in his face twitching.

He noticed that the decorations in Batti Crau's house were more blue, and in some places there were eagle motifs.

However, Barty didn't seem to think much about it, he sat opposite Hoffa with an old-fashioned expression: "Since your uncle is not in a good state, then you can talk about it, if you are not ready, quickly help him away." ”

So Hoffa straightened his face and said seriously: "I came this time to talk to you about the embargo on the flying carpet, you also know that in recent years, the communication between wizards has become more and more frequent, my uncle hopes that this regulation can be relaxed, after all, you have embargoed the flying carpet since 1954......"

"No, I can't. Barty Crouch coughed lightly and said without a smile: "Bills are bills, and we really don't plan to introduce magic flying carpets these years." ”

"Is this a violation of the International Wizard Free Trade Act, after all, other countries are doing business with us seriously, you know, British broomsticks can also be circulated in the international market normally. ”

Hoffa's eyes shifted to the back of the kitchen without leaving a trace, and he could feel that behind the kitchen bar, there were a pair of big frightened eyes and a pair of ears pricked up.

Barty Crouch said meticulously: "It's not that foreign countries have not imposed tariffs on our broomsticks, and every country is different....."

Boom!

Suddenly, there was a muffled thud on the ground, and there was a slight shook. Interrupted Barty Crouch.

Hoffa pretended to be surprised and looked around, "What's the matter, something is ringing." ”

A hint of helplessness and irritation flashed in Barty Crouch's eyes as he stood up, "Well, it's useless for you to look for me, the magic carpet embargo is because it's a woven product that is magical, but it's easy for Muggles to mistake it for a carpet, it violates the wizarding secrecy law, so it can't be circulated in the country, I have my own situation in the UK, Mr. Bashire, my suggestion is to go to Arthur Westby of the Department for the Prohibition of Misuse of Magic, if he can lift the secrecy of the magic carpet, then we'll talk about it in detail." ”

He looked like he was about to see off a guest, and Hoffa faked displeasure on his face, but he still helped Nicol Lemay to his feet.

"Thank you for your advice. ”

"You're welcome, and I wish you a nice viewing. ”

"You too. ”

The two shook hands, and then Hoffa helped Nicol Lemay out of the house.

Coming to the shade of an inconspicuous tree, Hoffa grabbed Nicol Lemay's shoulders and shook him vigorously, "What are you doing, you are confused when you talk well?"

Nicol Lemay, who was shaken vigorously, came to his senses, looked around a few times, and then patted his chest: "Ah, I just ...... Fell asleep. ”

"You can fall asleep, I'm worried about whether you're up to the task of spying on Voldemort. ”

"It's not like I didn't sleep well last night? I woke up at three o'clock in the morning. ”

Nicolame muttered, "Don't talk about me, the Death Eater in Azkaban prison, Barty Crouch Jr., is really in that tent." ”

Hoffa nodded slowly: "That's right, I'm sure." ”

Nicol Lemay gasped, "Actually, this old guy is really bold enough to get his son out in this way." ”

After a pause, he asked again, "Then what are you going to do, go to him now?"

Hoffa squinted his eyes, looked at the sun, which had climbed to the middle of the sky, and shook his head:

"No, this is not the place to do it, and now is not the time, and by the evening, the Ministry of Magic has gone to watch the game, and it's not too late for us to do it. ”