Harry Potter: I Am a Legend

Hoffa opened his eyes again, his face was already extremely cold, he stood up: "Where is Batty?"

"I don't know." Nicole Mayor was confused. "What's the situation? Did he launch the Dark Mark? Who was fighting with you just now...?"

"Gellert Grindelwald." He walked back coldly.

"Sure enough... it really is him."

Nicole LeMay was not surprised, instead he showed his face. He held his forehead and gritted his teeth and said, "I didn't think anyone else would do this."

Hoffa did not answer, and now is not a good time to chat.

He and Nicole May returned to the camp from the stadium roof.

At this moment, the carnival camp was in a mess, the road was blackened by countless pedestrians, and thick smoke billed the sky.

The tents along the way were burning, and the air was full of the smell of burning wood and cloth. The rescue of the Ministry of Magic had not yet come. A group of wizards huddled together and ran towards the woods, as if they were escaping from some terrible existence.

"Mudblood..."

"You deserve this day!"

"Hahahahaha..."

Accompanied by unbridled laughter.

"Flame raging!" With a loud explosion like a bang, a flying orange fireball jumped out in all directions. The tent on the roadside caught fire.

Several hooded guys came from a distance, as if enjoying the chaos, they kept their magic wands on the roadside tent.

"My child is inside, you demons--!" Several wizards in pajamas rushed out and roared. But he was caught off guard and hung upside down with a curse.

"Wail."

"Struggle..."

I saw the hooded wands pointing upwards, pushing forward, and slowly moving on the field. Above their heads, several figures in pajamas were floating in the air, two of which were very small. They were twisted into all kinds of weird shapes, some crouched on their knees, some with their heads tilted back, some with their jaws facing the sky, and some with their mouths open, but they couldn't make a sound.

Like a marionette, it is controlled by an invisible rope from a wizard wand wearing a mask.

Hoffa stopped expressionlessly in front of the cloaked men.

A few laughed, the guy manipulating the doll stopped and turned to look at the young man and the old man who came over—the two men and horses looked at each other for a moment.

"Smelly bald head, what are you looking at!?"

"Hey, what is your dress?"

Those few people seemed to be drunk, drunk, and staggered to Hoffa.

One of the tall and arrogant men even used his magic wand to arrogantly pick up pieces of clothes on his body that had been torn from the battle.

"Meeting Veeva?"

"Or is it the old man next to him tearing it?"

"Hahahaha!! It's really interesting.....hiccup..."

The laughter echoed in the sky, but the tall man's body flew up, spinning like a cannonball, moving away, crashing through the burning tent, wiping off the low bushes, and flying away all the way until the laughter It turned into a horrified cry and disappeared into the sky.

Hoffa put down his palm and glanced at the remaining people with his golden eyes.

"roll."

Several people wearing masks collapsed to the ground in fright. They stared at each other and ran away.

The marionettes in the sky fell in twos and threes, and they fled in panic. Only one boy did not leave. She looked at the sky and the last girl who was still hanging upside down, and stretched out her arms anxiously.

"younger sister....."

There is the last little girl hanging upside down in the sky, her nightdress covering her head, slowly spinning.

Hoffa stood in the floating figure, facing the corner of the empty tent, his face pale: "Put her down."

No one answered.

"Can't you hear me, Crouch?"

The cloak of invisibility was suddenly lifted, and a young man with withered hair appeared. His face was pale and his head was sweaty, but he smiled proudly: "Did you see it? Did you see it, Mr. Bach, I made it! I made it! The Dark Mark was launched!!

"You did very well."

Hoffa nodded calmly and hooked his finger at the young man.

"come here."

The young man with withered hair felt something, he rubbed his hands, hid his wand behind him, smirked, and did not step forward.

"Don't you want to see the master?" Hoffa tilted his head and beckoned, "Come here, I'll take you to see him immediately."

"Hey hey..."

Little Batty breathed a sigh of relief, and ran over to Hoffa.

Snapped! !

A slap in the air.

Directly flew him out.

Little Batty fell to the ground, holding his bleeding mouth, half of his face swelled up at a speed visible to the naked eye.

He shouted in disbelief: "You...why are you hitting me?"

Hoffa looked at him condescendingly, and picked out the tooth that was stuck in the palm of his right hand with his left hand.

"You...you, why hit me!!"

He raised his wand, pointed it at Hoffa, and asked incomprehensibly, "Just for a few Mudbloods?"

Snapped!

The wand was kicked flying, the little girl floating in the sky fell to the ground, and the boy rushed over and hugged his sister.

Hoffa moved away from the crying brother and sister in front of him, strode forward, and then, in the extremely horrified eyes of the young Barty, picked him up again.

Snapped! !

It's another slap.

"You beat me again, you beat me again! I did nothing, I did nothing, you..." Little Batty Crouch fell to the ground, kicked his legs, and backed frantically Go, "You...you..."

Hoffa caught up with him in three steps and two steps, and picked him up by the back.

Little Battista raised his hand wildly: "You are the boss, don't...please, Mr. Bach, I'm wrong, I'm wrong...Don't beat me..."

Snapped!

Snapped! !

Snapped! ! !

The crisp sound reverberated, and even the brothers and sisters who were crying in the distance stopped crying. They shivered as they watched the young man riding on the young man in the distance, and opened his bow continuously.

Little Batty is no longer good. He lay on the ground, like a deserter in a rain of bullets, crawling into the distance, crying. Usually, he climbed aside and shouted bluntly: "Sparkling, Sparkling, Sparkling help me..."

At this moment, Nicholas Lemay stepped forward, grabbed Hoffa's arm tightly, and said anxiously: "Bach, Bach.....Don't fight, don't fight, you will die if you fight again, you have to fight the dog. Look at the master, our goal is resurrection."

Hoffa didn't follow him. He kicked Barty's chest when he was grabbed by his arm. He kicked Barty Crouch, who had been beaten into a pig's head, in the corner and rolled into a pile of broken wooden barrels.

"Don't fight, Hoffa Bach," Nicol LeMay said sternly, his beard trembling in anxious manner, "We have to get out of here, and we won't have a chance if we wait for the Ministry of Magic to come over."

As if to confirm Nico Lemay's words, swish, swish, and a few flying broomsticks flew past the sky.

Hoffa strode forward and came to the broken wooden barrel.

I saw Little Batty holding his head, curled up in the wood fragments and looking at him, tears, nose, blood, broken teeth all running down the corners of his mouth, and a scream of pain in his mouth, crying, but also forcibly laughing. I don't know what's wrong.

He dragged Barty's yellow hair with one hand, and relentlessly dragged him out of the broken pieces of wood in a scream, then came to Le May and took Nico Le May's hand.

Crackling.

A soft sound.

The three apparitions disappeared.

Not long after the three Apparitions disappeared, a large number of Ministry of Magic officials appeared in groups in the distance. They surrounded the most chaotic area with a look of anger, flying broomsticks through the thick smoke, and on the broomsticks. The wizard used a magic wand to spray a jet of water, extinguishing the billowing flames below.

......

......

When the three of Hoffa appeared again, they returned to Nicol LeMay's hut in London.

In the living room.

Little Batty was still crying and crying, as if she had suffered a great grievance. Hoffa glared. He knelt down and hugged Hoffa’s thigh. He cried and laughed, and said in a tremolo: "Don't...don't...don't hit me, you can do anything you want me, Mr. Bach , I listen to you in everything!"

Hoffa pulled him away in disgust, picked up an empty wine bottle from Nicole May's table, inserted it into his mouth, and said indifferently:

"You die if the bottle falls."

"woo woo woo woo......"

Little Batty finally stopped making the harsh crying. He folded his hands together, curled up in the corner, holding the bottle hard, and forced a smile on his face.

Nicole LeMay held his forehead, sat in front of the fireplace, and stabbed the stove with his magic wand. Suddenly, the fire was burning. He looked at the little Batty who was shrinking in the corner, shaking his head and sighing: "I really don't know how Batty Crouch gave birth to such a son. It's not easy."

"Don't talk nonsense, tell me everything you know about Grindelwald."

The first thing Hoffa did after throwing away Barty Jr. was to sit on the sofa and ask Nicole LeMay about Grindelwald.

Nicolémae was taken aback for a moment, then he shook his head and sighed slightly, walked to the wine cabinet and poured himself a glass of wine. After drinking the glass of wine, he slowly sighed and said in a dreamy tone of memory. :

"Fifty years ago, everyone in this world was involved in a nightmare, no... it may be wrong to say that the nightmare, it should be said that everyone was involved in a dream.

That beautiful dream is so real that few people can wake up from the dream. I don’t know if you have ever experienced that. Hey, in that beautiful dream, I became the self I was when I was twenty. When I first met my wife, I was running in the fields... "

"Talk about business." Hoffa interrupted his memories with a ugly expression.

Nicholas Lemay poured himself another glass of wine: "But even so, some spiritually powerful wizards still realize that there is something wrong with their survival world.

Those sober wizards are divided into two factions. One faction is led by Dumbledore. They advocate killing the source of that beautiful dream and destroying the source of the dream.

But the other faction headed by Grindelwald believes that killing the source of dreams is useless, because you don’t know if the source of dreams you see is the real source of dreams. Therefore, the only way is death, in dreams. Die in the middle and wake up in reality, this is their way. "

Hoffa: "Has he succeeded?"

Nicole LeMay: "Perhaps. From the results, it may be true. He was the first group of people to escape from the dream."

Hoffa sat down, his eyes fixed on the swaying fire, his expression gloomy, he thought of what Grindelwald had said to himself not long ago—it was really quiet and prosperous, Hoffa, in our age, there were a hundred thousand wizards. Together, they will only kill each other's blood. How can there be such a peace, it is too unreal.

"So, Grindelwald believes that this world is also a dream now?" Hoffa asked with a frown.

Nicole Maya nodded: "Perhaps all beautiful worlds are dreams to him, and only coldness and cruelty are real to him."

"Damn it!"

Hoffa leaned back on the sofa and rubbed his face vigorously.

He is not afraid of Voldemort or other dark wizards driven by interests or dignity. If there is self desire, there will be flaws, and there will be room for use. But obviously Grindelwald is not of this type, he is completely claiming himself as the savior of mankind.

At this moment, Voldemort's resurrection plan, Grindelwald's conspiracy to destroy the world, and his own inner desire. These intricate things are intertwined, making Hoffa's head as big as a fight.

He rubbed his face, almost rubbing the skin off.

In the room, Nicole LeMay looked sadly at Hoffa.

The little Barty with the bottle in the distance didn't dare to get out of the air.

But it didn't take long before Hoffa calmed down, his eyes were as firm as iron, and there was nothing to stop him from getting the resurrection technique. He got up and came to Nicholas Lemay, "What is the number today?"

Nicole LeMay: "August 25th."

Hoffa pondered for a moment: "On August 25th, Hogwarts will start school. You prepare, we will go to Voldemort tomorrow."

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