Chapter 292

In the dark room, the bald boy holds a peeled apple and bows to the chair. On the chair, there is a strange species as wrinkled as a baby.

In the corridor in the distance, Pettigrew hid behind the cupboard and watched the room. He couldn't help swallowing his saliva. I don't know if it was his illusion. In front of the blazing fire, it seemed that there were not two people, but an eagle with folded wings and a poisonous snake on the ground.

Without looking at the apple in front of him, Tom Riddle narrowed his red eyes and carefully observed his old opponent. Suddenly, the wrinkled baby leaned back on the chair, tilted his head, and said, "kneel down."

Hoffa frowned, motionless, just holding the apple.

"Can't you hear me when I make you kneel down?"

Tom moved his head forward and repeated, "kneel down, now."

Hoffa took the apple and still didn't move.

"An apple wants to buy me off. Do you really think I'm a baby, Bach?" Tom's red eyes twinkled with sadistic light: "don't you want to revive your little girlfriend? Show some sincerity!"

Hoffa raised his eyebrows, folded the apple and straightened up. He came to the fireplace of the dark hall and took down a porcelain dish on the wall to blow away the dust.

"Tom, it doesn't mean I'm your man or servant, even though I ask for it. Don't deny it. You need me more than ever. "

Tom Riddle grimly sneered: "you think too much of yourself, Bach. I don't need you."

Hoffa put the porcelain dish on the table, turned his finger into a knife, and cut the apple into eight pieces.

"Although the people in the Ministry of magic think you are dead, Albus Dumbledore doesn't think so, and the people in the order of Phoenix don't think so. They will find you and kill you. The most effective cadres you used to be are watching and even betraying you, Malfoy and kakarov. As long as there is a slight disturbance, they will swallow you alive. I believe you know better than me. "

The expression of the villain on the chair twisted a few times, he spit out a mouthful of saliva, sneer: "you still like in the past, know more than anyone."

"Don't mind. I'll know these things after a little inquiry. Everyone in the wizarding world knows them. According to the current situation, Peter, the dwarf outside, can't protect you. At such a time, do you want to push me away because of a little ridiculous vanity? "

"They can't find me, no one can find me!" Voldemort said viciously.

"Is it?"

Hoffa leaned against the brick wall of the fireplace, took a piece of apple and cackled, "I didn't find you."

"You... Cough!" Voldemort was so angry that he coughed again.

Hoffa shrugged. "How many people in the world can remain neutral and objective? Maybe no one can do it except Ravenclaw. Only I won't be prejudiced against you, Tom."

"I don't need to be neutral and objective. You have to surrender or get out of here." Voldemort hissed and said, "never trust Ravenclaw. This is my lesson in exchange for my soul."

The conversation seems to have reached a deadlock.

Click, click.

In front of the fireplace, Hoffa ate the fruit slowly.

Tom licked his lips happily and mercilessly: "I'll give you a minute to think. If you don't kneel down in front of me after you finish eating that plate of damn apples, you are ready to kill me, hum...

gudu.

Hoffa swallowed an apple, picked up another one, and said, "Gunter house."

Click wipe swallow, and pick up another piece, "seaside cave."

Every time he swallowed an apple, Tom Riddle's face turned pale.

He picked up another piece and bit it off.

"Guling Pavilion."

"Shut up!"

Tom's red eyes almost split, and his expression fell into an indescribable confusion.

Hoffa held half an apple, motionless, with a smile on his lips.

"Impossible... Impossible... How can..."

I saw him sweating, head down, shaking up and down like chaff, "shut up... Shut up!"

When he looked up at Hoffa again, there was only endless killing intention and resentment in his eyes, "you!"

Hoffa put down the apple slice and said slowly, "so don't talk too much. Tom, I hate loneliness. You're afraid of death. We can still cooperate."

"You, how dare you threaten me!" Voldemort's broken teeth trembled: "blackmail the greatest black mage in history!"

"I didn't. your life and death have nothing to do with me. I just want to make a deal." Hoffa said calmly.

Voldemort closed his eyes. His expression was unpredictable. After three minutes of silence, he opened his eyes and said coldly: I don't believe any of your words, I only believe your actions. The Sorcerer's stone is useless to me now. I won't accept that kind of deal. "Hoffa shrugged: "now we can talk."

"I need Harry Potter, the Gryffindor boy protected by Albus Dumbledore." When Tom Riddle said this, the fire in the room seemed to be shaken almost out by a gust of wind.

"Well." Hoffa snorted.

"Don't talk about anything else. We're not young wizards 50 years ago. You bring Harry Potter to me without attracting anyone's attention, and help me successfully revive and return to my heyday. I'll give you the secrets of human body refining of peverier..."

Hoffa listened to Tom's words and suddenly He was in a trance. At this moment, a strong sense of fatalism came to his mind. Somehow, he felt as if he had experienced this scene with himself, just like when he was doing things in daily life, he had a sense of seeing that this scene had happened.

It came and went quickly, until Tom Riddle called out to him, "Hey, hey, are you listening to me?"

Hoffa looked up into his eyes.

Tom Riddell stressed: "I said, I promise you the deal, but only if you send the boy to me. In exchange, I will give you the secret of peverier's human body, and even the curse of resurrection."

"Soon?"

"No, the time limit is one year. I also need to prepare the ceremony, medicinal materials and site for resurrection. You just need to send him to me when I'm ready."

He said, "well, legendary wizard, this kind of thing is very simple for you."

"Yes," Hoffa said with a dignified face, "but I also have one condition."

"He said

"I want my people to participate in your preparation process."

"Your people?" Tom just like to hear some big joke, shook his head and sneered: "hum, when the high Ravenclaw Eagle also learned to develop his party."

"Nicole lemme."

Hoffa said calmly, "I want him to come and participate in your resurrection ceremony."

"You can't think about it."

Tom Riddell didn't want to turn him down.

"You're too young to put people around me." Tom Riddell said.

"Sorry, Tom, the trust between you and me is not as strong as we thought." Hoffa didn't have much expression on his face: "I think you will definitely trip me up, so I need someone who knows how to watch."

"Then there is no need for us to cooperate."

Voldemort said with a cold smile, "how can I know that you won't do me harm secretly."

When they look at each other, they can see the fear in each other's eyes.

Hoffa picked up a piece of Apple again and snapped it off.

But this time, Voldemort didn't give in. He looked at Hoffa with hatred and held his fist which was not big enough for Gaowan. Sweat trickled down from his wrinkled face.

"Nicole lemme must attend your resurrection."

Hoffa put down the apple and said, "it's my only condition, and it's a necessary condition. As compensation, you can also put forward your own conditions."

Tom Riddle's face was as ugly as eating excrement in the fireplace fire. He looked at the plate in the fireplace, only two pieces of apples were eaten, and took a deep breath.

"Well, well, the wise don't talk in secret."

He narrowed his eyes and said slowly, "since you want to put people around me, you also need my people."

"Your people?"

Hoffa raised his eyebrows and turned back to Tom Riddle's chair. "Wormtail?"

Outside the door there was a thumping sound, as if something had rolled down the stairs.

Tom Riddle, with disgust on his face, shook his head. "No, it's another loyal servant of mine."

He said confidently: "that man is Barty crouch, the son of the current director of the Department of International Magic exchange and cooperation of the Ministry of magic. He is a poor fellow who was put in Azkaban by his father.

I don't care if you have heard of him or not, but you must rescue him and let him take part in your actions to ensure his safety before I succeed in reincarnation. Otherwise, all your demands are empty talk. "

"Hiss!" Hoffa didn't expect to go back. He smacked his tongue, his heart was half cold, and his face showed a bitter smile that only he could detect. But he clenched his teeth, quickly cleared up his mood, stood in front of Tom Riddle with a cold expression, and offered his hand.

"Yes, we have a deal."

Looking at the palm that stopped in front of him, Tom Riddle with sweat laughed. Although his eyes were full of undisguised killing intention, at least for one second, he laughed happily.

"Humming..."

"humming..."

"ha ha ha ha..."He held his arm in his arms and gave out a strange laugh.

Hoffa: what are you laughing at

"I think of the orphanage 50 years ago." Tom Ryder said slowly, his nostrils without wings were wide, and he seemed to be tasting something very delicious. "It's a turn of geomantic omen. Bach, you've changed."

Hoffa folded his hand, turned away from the fireplace room, stepped over the trembling Wormtail at the corner of the stairs, and walked out with great strides.

Behind him, Voldemort could not stop laughing:

"you have changed, you have changed! Ha ha ha ha! "