Chapter 1

The waves of the Thames beat on the rocks, rolling up layers of spray.

In the distance, the towering Big Ben stands in the thick smoke of industry, which is no different from 50 years later.

In 1938, Wu's orphanage in London.

It's a square, gloomy, old-fashioned building.

The origin of the orphanage is unknown. Some say it is to help the children who died in the first World War. Some say it is the place where the medieval church held the Black Death prisoners. There is only one thing to be said.

It's broken here.

Dense wire winding in the sky, a house disorderly code in the limestone floor, no beauty to speak of.

A big iron gate completely separates this place from the busy street outside. The ground is full of stinky white smoke. The rusty well covers are turning out steam. Even the rain water will jam in front of the sewer.

A room in the basement of the orphanage.

A little boy, his eyes closed, seemed to be sleeping.

He was only about eleven years old, with short black hair and pale skin. His face with some mixed blood smell was pretty, but his bruised forehead completely destroyed his appearance.

He lay in bed, twitching from time to time, as if in great pain.

Dong Dong.

Outside, there was a polite knock, and the boy didn't wake up.

After a while.

Dong Dong!!

The knock on the door grew louder.

……

Hoffa wakes up from his nightmare and suddenly gets up and touches his skull and crotch. He was relieved to find that there were no missing parts.

I'm still alive.

Sniffing, he smelled a sour musty smell.

In front of him is not the scene of the explosion cinema, but a dirty dark room.

Hoffa looked at his palm in shock, white and thin.

Suddenly, a sharp pain surged up on the forehead. As soon as his eyes rolled, he fell straight down again. Dimly, he seemed a little anxious to hear the knock on the door outside.

……

I don't know how long it took Hoffa to get over the pain.

He had a part of memory in his head that didn't belong to him at all.

He's still called Hoffa, but he's not the Hoffa on earth anymore. Hoffa on the earth is an ordinary high school student in China. He has a lonely family. No house, no car, no money. My only hobby is to save money to buy some books and watch movies.

But just one time when I was watching IMAX movies, there was a sudden explosion in the cinema, and he came to this ghost place.

Now his full name is Hoffa Bach.

He was a child growing up in an ordinary orphanage.

Some remaining memories tell him that the original owner of the body was cheated to go to the seaside cave, fell off the cliff and fell into the cold water during a picnic organized by the orphanage. When he was taken back to the orphanage, he was on the verge of dying, which allowed Hoffa to take advantage of the situation.

All that the child remembers is London's polluted streets. Apart from that, he has never been anywhere else. I don't know what phones and computers are, or the Internet. He only saw old cars with black smoke on the street, and black umbrellas everywhere

Hoffa thought hard, trying to get some information beneficial to survival from the broken memory.

Shaking his head, some fragmentary fragments of memory came up again.

The father of this life was a native Chinese, a Chinese who escaped the war and came to Europe, but died in a foreign land in the first World War.

The Bach surname after his name is probably related to a foreign mother.

It's just that Hoffa has no memory of his mother at all.

……

"Orphans It's crossing! "

Hoffa rubbed his head and exhaled a turbid breath. He doesn't care about crossing. After all, he has nothing to worry about in his previous life. It's just that the starting template is too small.

He took a closer look at his surroundings.

A dirty bed, a broken wooden table, on the wall are some faded soldier posters.

There is also an English short blue cat hanging on the ceiling.

That's right. The cat was hanged from the ceiling. It was very sad.

Hoffa's brain welled up with the name of the cat.

Ah duo.

He is the best friend of his former master.

Inexplicable anger appeared in my heart. Hoffa had a kind of extreme disgust. Who was it? To hang an innocent poor cat here, or in front of his master!

He hasn't had time to turn over the culprit from his memory.

… ...

there was a light knock and a key opening outside the door.Patta!

Suddenly, the closed door popped open, as if someone had kicked it heavily.

Hoffa stepped back in horror.

Outside stood two men, a man and a woman.

woman is very familiar with him, and Hoff sees her instantly from memory.

It's Mrs. Cole.

The warden of Wu's orphanage, a bony, always anxious woman.

And beside her stood a very unexpected visitor.

This is a strange old gentleman. Hoffa can only think so. Because this person's dress doesn't fit in with the environment here. He has blue eyes and a long nose, which seems to have been broken. He had a long, reddish brown beard and long hair, neatly tied up, dressed in a fine velvet suit, with a cane and a hat in his hand.

Hoffa had no doubt that the dress was made in Saville street, but what surprised him was not the old gentleman's dress.

It's his beard and hair. He always thinks this man looks a bit familiar.

"Tom, someone came to see you..."

The bony Mrs. Cole said carelessly, but then she jumped up like a cat in the tail.

"Wait a minute, how can it be you? Hoffa! Did he rob your room? "

Hoffa was still wondering who the familiar old man was. He didn't respond to Mrs. Cole's words for a long time.

The old man had already entered the room, looked around and sighed in front of the hanged cat. Standing in front of Hoffa again, he looked at Hoffa calmly with dark blue eyes under his long nose.

Then he put out his long finger and gently stroked the bruise on Hoffa's skull.

"Poor child

there was a feeling of healing from the wound on the forehead. A flash of lightning flashed through Hoffa's mind, and he looked at the doorplate on the room strangely.

It's written in crooked English:

[Tom mavolo Riddell]

shit! Ha The world of Harry Potter?

I'm Voldemort!?

Hoffa's brain was a little confused for a moment, but soon he found that he thought too much.

He is Hoffa, just stay in Voldemort's room, as for the reason, he immediately knew from memory.

This is an orphanage, his previous life is a clever child, very much loved by the orphanage administrator, his room is on the first floor, can access to the sun. Tom's room is in the basement.

Tom Riddell, the young Voldemort, coveted his own room, so he cheated him into the cave. When he failed, he pushed Hoffa down the cliff.

It's too late to lament the tragic experience, world outlook, era, story of my predecessor All kinds of miscellaneous information poured into the brain, and Hoffa's eyes became bigger and bigger.

The old man treated Hoffa's wound a little, then turned to Mrs. Cole and sighed, "take me to see Tom."

The Colfer nodded, ready to take him away.

When they came to the door, Hoffa finally responded. He pointed to the old man's back and almost blurted out.

"Deng Deng Deng Xiaoli ... "

Dumbledore with a reddish brown beard turned in surprise, wrinkled his head several times, and his blue eyes widened.

The air is a little quiet.

Hoffa quickly covered his mouth, damn it! I'm not careful enough. In shock, I didn't control my mouth.

You know, the other side is the top wizard in the world. There are a hundred ways to reveal their secrets. Spitting agent, heart seizing curse Although he thought Dumbledore might disdain to use those methods, it was always right to be careful.

In case of being found out, God knows what this mysterious magic world will do with itself.

But Dumbledore did not intend to let Hoffa go. He asked softly, "have we met?"

Hoffa covered his mouth and turned his head into a rattle.

"How do you know my name?"

With that, Dumbledore stepped forward.

Hoffa stepped back.

Dumbledore was dumb. He politely turned to the Colfer and said, "just a moment. I want to talk to the boy alone."