Chapter 301

As soon as he landed on the ground, little Barty let out a howling voice, broke away from the kaihuofa, and rushed to the dilapidated building towering in the night, "master... Master! Your most loyal servant is back! "

The hoarse sound of broken gongs spread far away in the night.

Nicoleme frowned at the crazy little Barty and looked around. "Is this where Voldemort is now? It looks like it's been abandoned for many years."

"Otherwise, you think he's staying in the five-star hotel," Hoffa shrugged. "It's nice to live in such a place after so many years of poverty."

"I didn't expect that the black lord, who was so beautiful more than ten years ago, would be reduced to this place." "I don't think you know how arrogant he used to be," sighed nicoleme

"What's the point?"

Hoffa picked his eyebrows.

"There is no one in the world who can't be killed. In this respect, he is really like his ancestors."

"Slytherin?"

"Including the three peverier brothers, except for the youngest peverier, the other two are bloodthirsty guys."

"You know that?"

"Although I have never met them, I believe that everyone's Alchemy products will bear the indelible brand of their owners. And Cadmus peverier is a legendary master who plays with life and death. "

After a pause, he said with a smile: "it's just that this kind of person is often cared by the God of death. It's said that after his death, his soul is hung on herheim's thorny road and will never be free."

"The way of herheim's thorns?"

Hoffa asked curiously, "what's that?"

"I've only heard about it."

Nicoleme shrugged. "It's a very old legend. No one knows what it means."

At this time, the appearance of a small figure interrupted their conversation. With a protruding head and an embarrassed smile on his face, he bowed to Hoffa and said, "Mr. Bach, master, master invites you in."

"It's you, Wormtail!"

The excited little Patty grabbed Pettigrew's arm, touched his bald head and said, "come on, take me in. Take me to my master. I haven't seen him for 13 years! "

Pettigrew Pettigrew pushed Patty's hand away uneasily. "Come with me."

Then he took three men to the high place of Riedel house.

As he walked, Patty asked, "where are the others? And Lucius, and Bella, and Severus, are they all back? "

"No..."

Pettigrew, "I'm the first, er... If you don't count Mr. Bach, you're the second...

" what

Little Barty immediately began to yell.

"Do all those people have a vicious and cruel father? Why don't you come back? And why do you let your master live in such a messy place?"

In the face of his question, Peter Pettigrew remained silent and did not answer.

At this time, a long question came from the depth of the castle.

"Is Patty back?"

It was Voldemort's voice, and little Barty crouch was excited. His face was full of happiness, and his feet were full of wind: "sure enough, sure enough, the master loves me most, sure enough, the master still remembers me..."

bang!!

Back to the burning fireplace hall, little Barty stood panting at the door of the hall with tears in his eyes: "master... My respected Master, my dear master, your most loyal servant is back."

The numb tone made Hoffa stand beside him with goose bumps.

"Come here, let me see you." Voldemort leaned back in his chair and said hoarsely.

"Yes, master."

Little patty, with tears in his eyes, knelt down like a pilgrim and crawled forward.

In front of the fireplace, Voldemort's chair turned.

Little Barty climbed up to the chair and raised his head slowly.

Hoffa kept glancing at this guy, and then he saw a wonderful picture that he would never forget. Before that, he never thought that a person's expression could be so complicated.

Little Barty was looking at the wrinkled little thing on the chair, like a monkey fetus.

The expression on his face gradually changed from fanaticism and joy to amazement, then gradually cooled down and became pale, then gradually frightened, and then gradually at a loss. Finally, he lowered his head and trembled: "Lord... Master!"

"It's me." Voldemort laughed.

Little Patty bowed her head and stammered, "how did you... How did you become like this..."

"I'm cursed by a vicious woman."

"Well... Ha... That's really damned..." little Patty said, but he didn't mean to share a common hatred. His tone only sounded numb, unwilling and confused.Hoffa couldn't help his mouth rising.

At this time, the smile on Voldemort's face gradually changed. He leaned back on the wide chair, put his short fingers on the back of the chair, and his red eyes were a little gloomy.

"Why, I'm so disappointing to you."

"I, I, I didn't..." Patty immediately said subconsciously, "you, what are you thinking?"

"Oh, no," said Voldemort slowly, narrowing his eyes. I haven't heard you call me master for many years. I really miss it. Now tell me to listen more. "

"Master... Master..." cried Little patty, with a twitch of cheek muscles and a few bumps.

"Look at my face." Voldemort said calmly.

Little Barty raised his head difficultly. Hoffa could see that his face kept smiling, but the smile was extremely rigid and restrained.

"Lord... Lord, Lord."

Yeah. Voldemort raised his weak fist, stroked the young man's withered yellow hair in front of him, then looked at him weakly and jokingly, which made his stiff, stone like smile even more distorted.

Voldemort: No, my dear master. Just like when I came in

Little Barty: "dear... Dear master..."

"call my dear master again." Voldemort continued.

"Dear... Dear, dear... Master."

Little Barty squeezed out a smile, but his expression was as stiff as if he was about to collapse. Hoffa could see his fists clenched on his knees, and the blue veins on the back of his hands.

After looking at each other for a while, he finally couldn't stand it. He bit his lips, lowered his head, and his nails were deep in the flesh.

"Come on, you go down."

Voldemort waved his short arm and said with a cold, expressionless face, "I have something to discuss with our guests. Wormtail, take him down. "

"Yes, master."

Pettigrew, who was hiding in the corner and watching coldly, came forward and took little Patty's arm. Little Patty stood up, pale and out of his wits. He walked out with Pettigrew and fell when he passed the door.

"Mortals... Hum..."

when there were only three people left in the room, Voldemort raised his head, and there was a trace of desolation and loneliness in his eyes, but the emotion was soon extinguished by the flame of desire.

He looked at Hoffa and Nicole lemme: "which one of you is in charge?"

Nicole lemme took a look at Hoffa and was about to step forward when Hoffa said, "we're just partners. There's no one in charge."

"Well, you're so smooth, Bach." Voldemort gave a noncommittal smile and looked at nicoleme: "Hey, old man, what do you want from peverier's alchemy? Do you want to change your shell?"

"You have a brilliant eye, Lord Dark Lord."

Nicole may put the posture very low, "I've had enough of this old and weak body, now a lot of things, it's not enough to do."

"Then why don't you use the Sorcerer's stone?" Voldemort sneered: "four years ago, I asked you to borrow the Sorcerer's stone. You not only didn't borrow it, but also carefully hid it."

"The Sorcerer's stone can only barely survive, but it can't bring me exuberant vitality."

Nicole may said: "I didn't know it was your need at that time. Besides, Dumbledore said hello in advance. I can't refuse it. People in your position can certainly understand it."

Hoffa watched the old man tell a lie without leaking, and thought that the more he lived, the thicker his face was.

Voldemort, who punched cotton and didn't take advantage of it, soon lost interest in nicoleme. He waved, "OK, let's go out. In Bach's face, I will let you participate in my resurrection ceremony. How much you can write down depends on your own ability. Don't expect me to teach you anything on my own initiative. "

"Thank you, Dark Lord."

Nico lemme bent down again, and at this moment he looked more like a loyal servant than little Patty.

After bowing, he retreated, closing the door like a qualified housekeeper, leaving Hoffa and Voldemort alone in the room.

Voldemort looked at Hoffa and said, "next, how are you going to send Harry Potter to me?"

"I don't have many ideas. I'm probably in Hogwarts." Hoffa said honestly: "he is under the protection of Dumbledore. It's difficult to send him regularly."

"I have a suggestion on that."

Hoffa guessed what he was going to say.

Sure enough, Voldemort said: "the defense against the dark arts class in that school is cursed by me. No one can sit in the office for a full year. I got some news that they are going to send alasto moody to be a teacher this year. I don't know if you've ever heard of him. He's a retired old Auror, two terms lower than us. ""Is it?" Hoffa raised his eyebrows.

"You try to disguise yourself as him to get in. They will hold a three strong competition this year. You first let Harry Potter show off, and then throw him hard."

Hoffa shook his head: "I can't pretend, if it's a deformation class, I don't mind. I'm not good at defense against the dark arts."

"Don't be modest, Mr. Bach. With your metamorphosis ability, the simple black magic in the textbook is just by analogy."

He looked at Hoffa maliciously: "well, besides, you told me 50 years ago that when mellos retired, he wanted to apply to be a professor of defense against the dark arts. Why, now he's getting better and better?"

"I..."

Hoffa was silent. He thought Voldemort's idea was OK. However, he really doesn't like the feeling that no matter what he does, he can't jump out of the shackles of fate. It seems that no matter what he does, it's like stepping on the spot, turning around, and always going back to the origin. What should happen will happen.

"You do this first. When I recover Hogwarts, I'll give you Dean Ravenclaw, a deformation teacher. Of course, if you want to be a headmaster, it's OK. "

Voldemort skillfully opened a blank check, did not care about the subtle strange expression of Hoffa: "how, my friend is interesting enough, not only can revive your little girlfriend, but also help you to the top of your life."

"Wait till you do it."

Hoffa said dryly, "what about little Patty? What are you going to do?"

"Let him follow you," Voldemort said with a smile, waving his arm indifferently. "If you need a biting dog, he will be very effective. If it is you, I think he will be happy to help you bite."

"Must be either?" Hoffa frowned. "I can do well without him."

"Sure."

Voldemort bowed his head, slowly but maliciously said: "either you kill him, or you take him, as long as you send Harry Potter to me before my rebirth, you can do whatever you want."

Hoffa said no more.

After finishing his business, Voldemort looked tired. He leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. "Come on, Bach. I don't think we need to see each other again until you deliver Harry Potter."

...

...

by the time Hoffa returned to the hall of Riedel house, Nicole lemme was already waving his wand in the open hall. The objects in the hall moved around and soon built a studio. It seems that he is ready to learn resurrection here.

"Where's little Barty?"

Hoffa asked Nicole lemme.

Nicole lemme pointed to the corner. "Look, it's not."

Looking through nicoleme's fingers, in a pile of dilapidated wooden boxes, little Barty crouch was sitting in the corner of the hall like a sculpture, holding his knees, with a sad expression of lovelessness.

Hoffa felt funny, so he came to him: "Hey, do you want to go with me?"

He didn't respond at all. He seemed to be deaf.

"Hello, are you going?" Hoffa asked in an emphatic tone.

"Er... Ah

Little Barty's soul returned to the noumenon little by little. He raised his eyelids and looked at a loss. He didn't hear what Hoffa was saying.

It was funny and sympathetic to Hoffa. Peter Pettigrew came to find Voldemort because he had been discovered by Harry Potter and Sirius and had no way to go. But little Barty is not. His father is a senior official of the Ministry of magic. He is far from nowhere. Even if he falls in Azkaban, his father also transfers him out. His need is not material survival at all, but spiritual sustenance.

And now this sustenance is completely collapsed when he sees the weak, weak and extremely ugly Voldemort.

Maybe little Barty's thinking still stays in the era of Voldemort's boundless scenery more than ten years ago, living in his powerful moment, living in his excessive fantasy.

This made him think of the tragedy of those male netizens who cheated by women's excessively beautiful photos, only to find that they were a Tiger tank when they saw the real person.

It's just that Voldemort is not an ordinary woman who uses beautiful photos, nor a mediocre person who cares about appearance. He is a demon who has a strong desire to dominate.

Maybe little Barty is still immersed in disappointment, unable to extricate himself, did not find out. But Hoffa has just read Voldemort's clear intention to kill, and he can sentence little Barty to death.

Maybe when Voldemort comes back to life completely, it will be death or endless torture waiting for this poor creature.

However, all this had nothing to do with Hoffa, and his sympathy soon vanished into nothingness. There are thousands of people living in their dreams, and Hoffa doesn't feel obliged to wake them up.

Whether it's Voldemort's intention to disgust himself or to kill people with a knife, since Voldemort's offer includes bringing little Barty, he has to bring this guy for resurrection."Let's go." He said coldly.

"Where to

Little Barty was at a loss: "Mr. Bach, can I... Can I go back?"

"Go back?" Hoffa grinned, "no, you have to follow me."

"What are we going to do?"

"Resurrect your master."

Hoffa said faintly and walked out.

Resurrect the master...

resurrect the master.

Resurrect the master?

Little Barty, like a dying man holding on to a life-saving straw, suddenly jumped three feet high, showing a certain look of ecstasy. He followed Hoffa in a hurry, breathing eagerly and expecting, "what, that was not my master just now?"

Hoffa: don't you think so

"Of course not, my master is wise and powerful, and he is obedient to thousands of people. How can it be... How can it be..." he looked back at Ryder house, with some disgusting disgust on his face, gnashing his teeth: "how can it be that kind of monster that is neither human nor ghost."

Then he brainwashed himself and rubbed his hands to look forward to it. "That's right... That's right, my master must still be somewhere, not back, waiting for me to save him. It must be like this... Mr. Bach, is that right?"

"Yes." Hoffa said nothing.

"That's great, it's true!"

Hoffa's affirmation made little Barty more excited. He immediately broke away from the state of doubting life: "tell me quickly how to revive my real master."

Hoffa sighed to himself, then pretended to be serious: "if you could get your real master back, what would you do?"

"I can do anything."

Patty patted her chest with a vow, "I'm really good."