Chapter 294

The old and the young strolled through two rows of long tents on the misty field.

The early morning sun, shining through the fog, fell on Hoffa's face, making him uncomfortable. But even so, he had to admit that it was very busy here.

In the fog, you can't see the end of the tent at a glance. On the tent, there are bunches of triangular banners, on which the flags of the Bulgarian national team and the Irish national team are hung. Under the flags, there are rows of bunkers like tents. Most of the tents look nothing special. It's the same as Muggle tents, but some of them are also very personalized. It's obviously a tent with a chimney, a bell rope or a wind vane on it. It's very interesting.

The air was filled with the fragrance of honeysuckle and canary. On the side of the road, you can see a strong man sitting on the ground, sleeping on a printed blanket, his beard covered with wine, snoring while sleeping. It was obvious that the party was very late last night.

Shinan area is full of clusters of yellow canaries, shining in the newborn sun. Accustomed to the cloudy soil 50 years ago, he suddenly came to this leisurely place, which really makes him fresh and fresh.

Nicole lemme, "see, it's all your credit."

Hoffa pretended not to hear.

When they reached the middle of the first field, Nicole lemme stopped. There stood a huge tent, bigger and more magnificent than all the tents nearby. It uses a lot of striped silk, which looks like a small palace. There are several live peacocks and a small fountain at the entrance.

"This is where we live. Do you like it?" Nicole lemme has a big smile.

"It's very pompous."

Hoffa raised his eyebrows.

If he had seen this kind of thing five years ago, he might have jumped up 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 seemed not in good spirits.

"Don't mind. After all, Ali Bashir is a famous supplier of flying carpets in Arabia." Nicole lemme said, "it's all about acting."

"I didn't say I didn't like it. I did."

Hoffa was the first to open the tent. "Go in."

The tent has been put on the no trace stretching mantra. The space inside is bigger than that outside. It is three stories high. The ground is covered with very complicated carpets. The low footed red cupboards around are covered with strange Sun Moon metal decorations. There are also some high footed teapots. The tea table is stacked with towering sweets like pagodas. The air is filled with a smell of milk.

Hoffa curiously looked at the Arabic style tent and picked up a few decorations from time to time.

Nico lemme stood in front of a mirror on the ground of the tent, turned to Hoffa and said, "can you give me a hand, please?"

Hoffa put down the Aladdin lamp in his hand and stood behind Nicole lemme, helping him take off his grey coat, revealing his rickety body.

Later, Nicole lemme took a bottle of grey mud like compound medicine from his pocket and raised his hand to swallow it with a frown.

Goo, goo, goo.

The skinny old man with age spots in the mirror puffed up like air. His thin body gradually straightened out, and his sparse hair gradually became dense and black. Finally, he became a Middle Eastern man with black hair and a crooked nose. He looked about 40 years old.

"Hoo... Hoo..."

at the end of the change, Nicole lemme took a few breaths and shook his head. "No, I'm old. I'm resistant to the compound decoction. It's estimated that it can only last less than an hour."

Hoffa's eyes floated to the back of nicoleme's hand. Although he became younger, the age spots did not disappear completely.

Nico lemme went to the wardrobe of the tent and picked it up, sighing: "I'm old. When Chloe lives, I'll be a complete recluse."

"Do you really love her that much?" Hoffa sat on the carpet and asked, "you're so different in generations."

"Because of her blood ability, she was scared by her parents when she was young. I brought her up. When you have a grandson, you will understand me. If I say, she and I are more like friends. "

"You sent her to France, too?"

"At that time, there was no war. I hoped that God could cure her, but it backfired. At least in her, God didn't show his mercy."

"Is there really a God?"

Hoffa shrugged with a sneer and pointed to the top of the tent: "if I say, Allah, whom these people believe, does not exist."

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

"God?"

"More than that, higher."

Niko lemme dressed himself and became a businessman in a high Arab turban and a Bagdad robe with a peacock feather in it.

"Come on, I'll take you to Barty crouch.""I can't go alone." Hoffa muttered.

"Well, you're so young, even if you look gorgeous, crouch won't remember your name, let alone let you into his tent." Nicole lemme shook his head. "He's a power man."

After they went out again, the sun had already risen to mid air.

The hostility of the strong sunlight made Hoffa feel dazed for a long time, as if everything in front of him was covered with a layer of crystal clear film, and he had to narrow his eyes.

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

But in this sun, he didn't want to see anything. All he wanted was to go back to the tent and sleep until dark. However, this idea is just to think about it. He has to go to little Barty crouch, and time is not allowed to be wasted.

He took off a branch, changed it into a piece of sunglasses, and put it on his nose, barely blocking the sun.

Nicoleme slowed down and lowered his voice beside him: "it doesn't matter. When I go back this time, I will make some medicine for you to suppress the blood power in your body."

"Let's talk about it later."

Hoffa felt as if someone was looking at him behind him, so he looked back, but did not see any familiar figure. There were only a few foreign witches with kettles and getting up in the morning to draw water.

Time goes by.

There are more and more people in the camp. Many young boys and girls are shuttling and fighting among the crowd. There are both domestic and foreign speakers who speak languages that they can or cannot understand.

Hoffa was a little envious of them.

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

After walking through a tent with pictures of wilkdo Krum, he and Nicole lemme come to another field, where there are fewer tents and there is a lot of space between them.

One of the tents is indistinctly visible in the jungle, which is different from others. Although it keeps the shape of the tent, it is not made of cloth, but of wood. It's like a small house with some wood chips on the top, doors and windows, and a small garden on the outside.

There was a yellow path of clay and stone in the little garden. The garden was surrounded by a low wall about three feet high, with wooden Palisades at the top. At the corner of the palisade, there is a brown board and three gold-plated balls. On the brown board, there are white characters [Barty crouch - no interference].

Nicole lemme stood under three gilded balls and knocked on the door.

For a long time, no one opened the door,

the two stood at the door and looked at each other. Hoffa stepped back and looked into the window. The window was covered with white gauze, which was like the white haze on the eyes, making people unable to see clearly what was inside.

But he could detect someone standing behind the door, stooping through the crack of the door and looking at himself with a magic wand in his hand. This guy had been standing behind the door for a long time.

Nicole lemme, disguised as Ali Bashir, knocked on the door again and politely asked, "is Mr. crouch at home? Minister fudge recommended me here."

The eyes behind the door narrowed, and the people in the room slowly retreated to about 10 meters. At that time, he solemnly said, "here we are."

With that, he came to the door with a neat step and turned the lock with a click.

The middle-aged man behind the door had short black hair, straight waist and stiff movements. He was dressed in a spotless suit and tie. That toothbrush like narrow moustache immediately reminds Hoffa of Adolf Hitler.

"Ah, hello."

Nicole lemme shook out his hand. "You must be Mr. Barty crouch. I've heard so much about you."

The scrupulous man hesitated for a moment, holding Niko lemme's fingertip with reserve: "are you... Ali Bashir? President of the Arabian Flying Carpet Import and Export Corporation? "

"It's... I'm here."

Nico lemme turned his finger, turned out a golden business card and handed it to him. "This, this is my nephew and Secretary... Horva Bashir."

Barty crouch looked at his business card, looked up at Hoffa again, frowned, but finally he turned over with a slight displeasure: "thank you"

nicoleme entered the room with a smile.

Hoffa whispered that it was dangerous. Old Barty crouch could even speak Arabic. If he didn't bring Nicole lemme, he was afraid that he would show up before he came in.

After entering the door, his eyes quickly turned in the room. In the blink of an eye, he used the powerful mental field to scan the whole room.

It's an old-fashioned three bedroom apartment with a bathroom and kitchen. There is a basement under the kitchen floor. The entrance to the basement is sealed by magic.Tom Riddell thought that his subordinate, little Barty crouch, was imprisoned in Azkaban, but what he didn't know was that as early as a year ago, old Barty crouch, at the request of his dying wife, replaced his son, little Barty, Voldemort's loyal servant, from Azkaban with his wife. Since then, little Barty has been imprisoned at home In the middle.

It wasn't until the Quidditch World Cup that he was released, and he also played an important role in the Goblet of fire, hiding in Hogwarts, disguised as mad eye moody, the defense against the dark arts teacher.

And he is the target of Hoffa.

"Sit down, please."

Old Barty crouch pointed to the sofa, his eyes rolling over Hoffa's silver earrings and sunglasses, frowning from time to time.

Nico lemme naturally sat in his chair, his fingers crossed in his belly, and Hoffa stood behind him,

"coffee or tea?" Barty crouch went to the kitchen.

"Just a glass of water. Excuse me, Mr. crouch. With all due respect, your place is really hard to find."

"Ah, I prefer to be quiet in private, and I don't like to be disturbed." Old Barty crouch said blandly.

"I've been very busy recently, world cup." Nicole lemme winked at Hoffa as he approached him.

"Fortunately, there are a lot of things in the Ministry, but they are all within my responsibility."

"Do you live alone?"

"Yes."

Old Barty came out of the kitchen with two glasses of water and handed them to Nicole lemme, ignoring Hoffa standing behind her.

"Don't you have a servant to wait on?" As he took the glass, Nico lemme asked, "like the house elves? It must be very tiring for a high-ranking person like you to do everything by yourself. "

Barty Crouch's eyes became sharp. "It's none of your business. I heard you're here to talk about trade."

He was sitting like a diplomat in the United Nations, but Nico Leme, disguised as Ali Bashir, turned his eyes and stopped talking.

Hoffa quickly bent down to look, and whispered that it was not good. Nico lemme rolled his eyes, and a trace of saliva overflowed from the corner of his mouth. The old man was demented again.

He quickly took off his sunglasses, his golden eyes turned black, and explained, "excuse me, director crouch, my uncle drank too much last night, and he's not in a good mood today."

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

"No

"What's the matter?" Hoffa said

"I think too much," Patty muttered. "You look a bit like our college legend."

"Is it?"

Hoffa grinned and his face twitched.

He noticed that batiklauch's house had more blue decorations, and in some places there were Eagle designs.

But Barty didn't seem to think much. He sat opposite Hoffa, with an old-fashioned look: "since your uncle is not in good condition, let's talk about it. If you're not ready, help him away."

So Hoffa straightened his face and said solemnly, "I'm here to talk about the flying carpet embargo with you. As you know, in recent years, the exchanges between witches have become more and more frequent. My uncle hopes that we can relax the regulations. After all, you have banned flying carpets since 1954..."

"no way." Patty crouch coughed and said, "the bill is the bill. We really don't plan to introduce magic carpet these years."

"Is this against the international wizard free trade act? After all, other countries are doing business with us. You know, the British broomsticks can also be normally circulated in the international market."

Hoffa's eyes moved to the back of the kitchen without leaving any trace. He could feel that behind the kitchen bar, there were a pair of frightened big eyes and a pair of erect ears.

Barty crouch said meticulously: "it's not that foreign countries have not levied tariffs on our broomsticks. Every country is different..."

Dong!

Suddenly, there was a dull sound and a slight shock from the ground. Interrupted Barty crouch.

Hoffa pretended to be surprised and looked around. "What's wrong? Something's ringing."

There was a trace of helplessness and annoyance in old Barty Crouch's eyes. He stood up and said, "well, it's useless for you to come to me. The reason why the magic flying carpet is forbidden is that it's woven goods that are enchanted, but it's easy for Muggles to mistakenly use it as carpets, which violates the wizard's Secret Law. Therefore, it can't be circulated in this country. I have my own national conditions in Britain. Here, Mr. Bashir, my suggestion is to go Find Arthur Weatherby of the Department of forbidden abuse of magic affairs. If he can lift the confidentiality of magic carpet, we'll talk about it later. "

He looked like he was going to see off. Hoffa pretended to be unhappy, but he stood up with Nicole lemme."Thank you for your advice."

"You're welcome. Have a good time."

"You too."

They shook hands, and Hoffa helped Nicole lemme out of the room.

In the shade of a humble tree, Hoffa grabbed Nicole lemme's shoulder and shook it vigorously. "What's the matter? You're confused when you talk well?"

Nicole lemme, who was shaking hard, woke up, looked around for a few eyes, and then patted his chest: "ah, I just... Fell asleep."

"It's all sleeping. I'm worried about whether you're up to the task of monitoring Voldemort."

"Didn't you sleep well last night? I got up at three in the morning. "

Nicoleme muttered, "don't talk about me yet. That Death Eater, little Barty crouch, who was in Azkaban prison, is really in that tent."

Hoffa nodded slowly: "yes, I'm sure."

Nicole lemme took a cold breath. "Actually, this little guy is brave enough to get his son out."

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

Hoffa narrowed his eyes, looked at the sun that had climbed to the center of the sky, and shook his head:

"no, this is not the place to start. Now is not the time. When the people from the Ministry of magic go to watch the game in the evening, we can start again."