Herheim, the kingdom of the dead. A round of black stars twinkled, covering the white stars on the other side like a black hole.
After Hoffa looked at the exit of the top, the man who kept leaping frog, but could not jump out, was worried. If Cadmus peverier, the developer of resurrection, was hanging on the road of thorns, could he escape the eye of death?
It wasn't until little Barty gave him a push that he came to his senses.
Little buddy: she's gone
It turned out that when he saw the frog leaping man, the ghost with silver hair had gone down the thorny road quietly, and now he was almost invisible.
"Ah, agraia, wait for me."
Hoffa quickly waved to chase back, but when he got back to the bottom of the thorns Road, the silver haired ghost climbed up the long eared rabbit floating in the sky and flew straight down. He didn't care about Hoffa and little Barty.
"What to do?"
A gust of cold wind blowing, abandoned two people looking at the foot of the abyss, looked at each other, for a time do not know what to say.
Hoffa did not expect that aglea left them like this, said to leave, and did not bring back his head. Mercilessly, he could not guess what she was thinking.
Just when they didn't know what to do, a gurgling sound came from the high place. A huge round stone rolled down from the high place of bramble road and crashed into the stone pillar on the platform at the bottom.
After a while, a man with bronze muscles came down from a high place and came to the side of the huge stone. He pressed the stone with his hand and lifted it up. Then he rolled the huge stone and pushed it up a slope. What Hoffa saw was a tight face. His cheek was close to the stone head, his shoulders were covered with mud, and his feet were full of scars, which were never seen The stone pusher, Sisyphus.
"Ah, uncle?"
Hoffa saw the hope and ran to Sisyphus. He bent down and asked the sweating man under the huge stone, "excuse me, how can I get down here?"
Sisyphus, who pushed the stone, looked at him and said, "jump down."
"I'm sure I'll die if I jump so high."
Said little Barty at once.
"But you're dead." Sisyphus said, continuing to push the stone like a dung beetle.
"This..." what else did little Barty want to ask, but there seemed to be no way to refute.
Hoffa nodded quickly. "I see. Thank you, uncle."
Sisyphus ignored him and continued to push the stone up, only the stone in his eyes.
They went to the bottom of the road of thorns, turned back three times in one step, and walked. Hoffa couldn't stop his doubts and went back to catch up with Sisyphus who pushed the stone. "Wait a minute, uncle."
"Well?"
"Why don't you jump?"
The man who pushed the stone asked with a smile, "why should I jump?"
"Your feet are broken like this," Hoffa pointed to his bloody feet. "And this stone... How many years have you pushed it."
When he asked, Sisyphus laughed more happily. He shouldered the boulder, stopped on the thorny road, and asked Hoffa with a smile: "do you think people on this road are miserable?"
Hoffa listened to the distant cry of Prometheus, nodded his head and said, "it's terrible."
"No," said Sisyphus, shaking his head, "the people who are really miserable are those below. Pain and fatigue are better than apathy. Look, that's what I'm doing. I've failed all the time, but it's a goal at least. "
With that, he pushed the stone with a smile and walked slowly up the mountain, walking with a heavy and steady pace towards a kind of torture that he never knew the end.
Hoffa thoughtfully returned to Barty.
Little Patty asked him nervously, "is that guy's story true? Can this place really jump down? I'm afraid it's not bluffing us. "
Hoffa kicked little Barty's ass without saying a word. With the cry and howl of little Barty when he fell into the abyss, Hoffa also jumped out of the way of thorns.
They fell to the ground like meteors, and in the blink of an eye, they passed through the sky for thousands of meters, and then fell to the ground like leaves. It felt like jumping down a centimeter step, without any waves. Sisyphus didn't cheat him, and the kingdom of the dead didn't die twice.
But the place they left was not the dark islet where aglea stayed, but a heart-shaped island the size of a football field. The sun and moon twinkled in the sky at the same time, and there was no insect on the ground.
"Well, it's all right."
Little Barty turned over, got up, felt twice on his body, picked Hoffa up again, and asked, "Mr. Bach, are you going to leave here?"
"Don't always ask me when I'm leaving, will you?"
Hoffa thought of his abandoned agleia, full of sorrow: "how good here, no worries, no opponents.""No, nothing has to be done here. I'm not at ease." Said little Barty.
"Bitches."
Hoffa booed.
"Don't you have that feeling, once you have nothing to do. You'll be flustered, won't you? "
"No,"
Hoffa refused, but in fact, he also agreed. He doesn't know how long he will stay in this void, but it's definitely not his style not to do anything.
Pa Pa!
Suddenly, a tsunami like applause broke out in my ear, which startled Hoffa.
Looking around, I found a towering arc arena in the distance. Applause and cheers came from that building.
The environment here is far from the dark island where agraia stayed. The buildings are solemn and the ground is solid. Countless ghosts come from all directions and enter the huge arena with excitement.
Hoffa remembers that this is exactly what Avada called "entertainment place" at the beginning. At that time, he was quite curious about where it was. However, when he met little patty, he took him to find aglea, and this curiosity was over.
He did not expect that after jumping down the thorny road, he would fall here.
...
...
Hogwarts, office of defense against the dark arts.
At the moment, time is already cold winter, snowflakes fall from the sky one by one, tirelessly piled up on the window edge.
The fire was crackling in the fireplace, but Miller goshak, sitting in front of the fire, didn't feel any warmth. He wasn't sure whether it was because his body was too old or that the damned guy had disappeared for months.
He controls alasto Moody's body, sits behind his desk, looks at a letter in front of him with a gloomy face, and plays with a sharp dagger in his hand. He puts his finger on the edge of the dagger, touches it, and then takes it back. The expression was very hesitant.
Mixed with the crackle of pine in the fireplace, there was a faint cry in the room, which continued and changed from time to time. At first, Miller was able to maintain a grudging calm, but gradually, he became impatient.
"Don't yell. I'm upset by yelling."
Finally, he couldn't help but stand up, strode to the box in the room and opened it.
In the box, two men were lying flat on two beds, quietly, and the cry came from a vague figure kneeling on the side of one bed: she cried and cried: "little master, little master... You wake up, you wake up."
"I told you not to yell. Can't you hear me?"
Miller roared.
"Wuwuwuwu... I can't help it"
the elf looked back at him, and her tears and snot flowed down. She sobbed and couldn't stop crying.
"Don't yell. Tell me how he is?"
Miller asked impatiently.
"Vital signs are getting weaker and weaker."
The elves sobbed and sobbed, "half a month ago, their breathing was normal, but now, they only breathe a few times a day. I... I really don't know what to do... Woo Hoo!"
The cry grew louder and louder, and a trace of anger flashed across Miller's brow. He stretched out a palm, grabbed and threw it across the air. The weeping elf was thrown into the corner of the wall, and let out a cry, and immediately fell into a coma.
The cry finally disappeared.
There was silence in the box.
Miller controlled alasto Moody's body and slowly came to the two men in the box, one with ginger hair and the other a bald middle-aged man.
Miller came to the bald middle-aged man and took his hand. His hand was covered with old stripes and meridians. It looked like the hand of a 50 year old man. In less than a few months, the teenager lying in the hospital bed was in his twenties, almost aging at the speed visible to the naked eye.
Beside the unconscious bald middle-aged man, there was a bloody parchment, which was the sacrificial array to herheim.
Miller picked up the parchment and hesitated.
Hoffa just entered herheim and lost contact with him within a day. He didn't come back at the appointed time. He didn't know what happened in the underworld. He didn't know how long it would take for the body in front of him to decay and collapse because of the loss of life.
Do you want to do something?
Are you going to the underworld to get him back?
He fell into hesitation.
Dong Dong!
A quick knock at the door awakened him from his meditation, and he looked out at the sky. It was almost dusk.
Dong Dong!
The knock on the door was more urgent.
Impatiently, he put away the parchment, closed the box, opened the office and went out.
As soon as the door opened, Miller saw black greasy hair like a kitchen curtain that hadn't been washed for ten years. Under the hair, there were deep eyes and a formidable hawk hook nose.Having been in Hogwarts for so long, Miller has recognized all the professors, including the cold and greasy potion Professor, Dean Slytherin. But Miller was contemptuous of most Hogwarts professors, except Dumbledore.
"Severus?" Miller said in the tone of an elder, "what are you doing here?"
Severus Snape frowned unhappily: "Dumbledore asked me to inform you that you must come to the Christmas Eve dance tonight. Professors from other schools are coming."
"The ball?" Miller eyebrows a pick, "that is not everyone knows, need to specially come and tell me?"
"Maybe it's because you can't find a partner?"
Severus Snape's tone was tinged with sarcasm, "if you can find it."
"Hum."
Miller snorted, noncommittal.
"In the evening, you may have to tidy up your Aurora suit." Pointing to Moody's clothes, he handed a letter that looked like an invitation to Miller. Then he turned and left. He didn't want to have anything to do with him.
"Little thing..."
Miller closed the door, glanced at the light blue envelope in his hand, threw it on the desk, sat down on the chair and sighed.
It's Christmas Eve. He should have finished the task and gone back and forth. But Hoffa's disappearance forced him to be tied up in this post.
Dong Dong!
Before he got hot, the door of the defense against the Dark Arts Office rang again. Miller became more and more impatient. He felt that his coming to find Hoffa was a major mistake in his life.
Bang!!
Miller opened the door.
This time, outside stood a third grade Gryffindor student and a middle-aged man with meticulous hair combs.
"This is Professor Moody's office." The Gryffindor student said, "Professor, this Mr. Crouch has something to do with you."
"Director of international affairs, Barty crouch?"
Miller looked at the middle-aged man with scrupulous hair and decent smile in front of him and asked in amazement, "what's the matter with you coming to me?"
"I'm looking for someone."
Said the man who combed his hair meticulously.
"Who are you looking for?" Miller asked with a bad look.
Instead of answering his question, Barty crouch gently said to the students who led the way: "thank you for leading the way, Daniel. I have a few words with your defense professor."
"OK, you and Professor moody talk slowly. I'm going to the ball." Gryffindor students simply wave their arms and leave the office.
After the students left, the smile on the middle-aged man's face suddenly disappeared. He pushed Miller into the office, kicked the door, and then slapped Miller in the face.
Bang!!
"What are you doing here, you disgrace bastard?"
Just smile very decent old Barty. Crouch at the moment like a changed person, very ferocious looking at Miller.
Miller was stunned by the slap. He covered his face and looked at the guy who suddenly slapped himself in the face in disbelief.
After a slap, Barty crouch pulled out his wand and stared at Miller with a cold face: "how many people know about you? What about alasto moody, where is he now? "
Before miller could react, old Barty crouch had turned over in the office, bent under the reading table, opened the clothes cabinet, and did not regard himself as an outsider.
Miller rubbed his face and gradually came back. He took a look at the box in the office and knew that this guy must think of himself as his son, little Barty crouch.
After rummaging and finding nothing, old Barty threw the sheet in his hand and pointed his magic wand at Miller: "hand over mad eye moody and come home with me immediately."
"Who told you that?"
Miller asked with a bad look.
"Who told me? Fool, do you think I know nothing about your tricks and say, "have you gone back to your dying master?"
Said old Barty crouch, reaching out to beat Miller. But Miller easily dodged the blow.
"You dare to hide, you are really good at it!"
"I don't know how much work I spent to wipe your ass dry. If it wasn't for me, you would have been kissed 100 times by Dementors just because of the quedditch World Cup," he said
"I'm not your son."
Miller said directly.
"And you're not!? It's all petrified! "
Old Patty angrily waved his wand, and a gray ray of magic came out of the wand, straight to Miller's face.Miller's eyes flashed a sense of killing. He rubbed his hands and raised his hands to interrupt old Patty's casting. Break the gray petrifaction curse to pieces.
"What's that look? Smelly boy, don't dare to touch me when you know some magic, I'm your father....
before the word "father" was finished, old Barty Crouch's whole body suddenly floated up. The wand in his hand flew out of his hand and fell into Miller's hand. With a wave of his wand in his backhand, old Patty's limbs twisted into a strange arc in the air.
"You... You... You pervert!"
Old Patty bit his teeth out of blood and yelled angrily, "how dare you do it to me?"
"Who told you that?"
Miller's face was as cold as iron. "If someone hadn't tipped off, you wouldn't have known someone was pretending to be moody, say!"
"You
Old Barty crouch looked at the cold face in front of him with wide eyes. He was frightened. "You... You're not my son... You're not crazy eyed. Who are you?"
"It's too late to react now."
Miller tightens his hands. The floating old Barty Crouch's neck tightens, his eyes bulge and he can't breathe.
At this time, the box in the room snapped open, and the bruised house elf came out of the box with his head covered.
As soon as she got out, she saw the middle-aged man floating in the air. After a second of stupefaction, she let out a piercing and high pitched scream. Like a ghost, she rushed to the murderous Miller, knelt down and hugged Miller's thigh, crying: "please, please, don't kill my master, don't kill my master!"
"Go away, twinkle."
Miller raised his foot and kicked Shanshan away. He continued to hold up old Patty and asked, "if you don't tell me who tipped you off, do you believe I'll kill you directly?"
"Er......"
old Patty's face was livid, floating in the air, and he could not speak. He covered his neck and pushed his legs as hard as he could.
The shinning who was kicked back without hesitation, hugged Miller's thigh again, and cried quickly, "the little master's life and death are unknown, and your friend is going to die soon. At this time, how can you care about other things? You go to find a way to save your friend!"
"Say it again!"
Miller suddenly lowered his head and stared at the house elf holding his thigh.
However, the house elf didn't give in at all. She grabbed Miller's wooden leg like a drowning man holding the last straw: "I said, you have time to find a way to save your friend. Why do you have to make other things difficult for others...
one person one Elf looked at each other for a while.
"Ha... Ha ha..."
Miller laughed at himself, but he was the first to lose.
Thinking of Hoffa waiting to die in the box, he waved casually and threw old Barty crouch aside like a litter, as if he had exhausted all his strength.
Shimmering and crawling down old Patty's side, he pressed hard against his chest.
Miller goshak stood in the same place and said to himself, "yes, I don't care who informs you. Anyway, it's going to die... It's going to die..."
after he said to himself, he said to Shanshan, "bring me the evening dress. I need a carnival."