332 Chapter 54, Father and Son

The light of the curse behind him kept flickering, shouting and roaring endlessly, and he didn't run far, and he saw two people chasing after him. They were Grindelwald's men. They got out of the thick fog and scattered in all directions. , tracked it down.

Thanks to his familiarity with the castle, Hoffa separated the crowd, and with the help of the magic stairs, he quickly came to the fourth floor behind the statue of Gregory the Flatterer, turned the statue and got into the secret passage.

Hoffa only knew about this secret road, but had never walked it before. The secret passage was pitch black, and he had to hold on to the wet wall to move forward with difficulty. The secret passage became narrower and narrower, and there was the sound of the wall turning from time to time behind him. Even without looking back, he knew that Grindelwald's men had caught up.

"Luminescence flickering."

There was the sound of incantation chanting behind him, and the dark secret passage was illuminated. He drilled harder in the secret passage, but since it was daytime, his speed was really not that fast.

After running for an unknown amount of time, the fluorescence behind him became brighter and brighter, and the sound of footsteps became closer, and the corridor finally started to go upward.

Boom!

He knocked open the floor leading to the outer layer of the corridor, and got out of an abandoned wooden house full of dust and haystacks. The glare of the sun shone in the sky, making his cheeks hurt.

This is probably a mill on the outskirts of Scotland. On the snow-covered and frosty land, there stands a dilapidated and towering windmill, a place he has never set foot on before.

bang bang!

Afterwards, two men in black with birdcages on their heads also rushed out of the abandoned wooden house, and threw Hoffa to the ground. The man in black cut Hoffa's hands behind his back, dragged him, and dragged him back into the tunnel.

Hoffa kicked the man in black in the face, but was stopped by the strong iron cage without causing any harm. He couldn't help scolding himself for being careless in his heart, and chose to go to Dumbledore during the day.

Crash!

The small wooden door of the abandoned warehouse was shattered, and he was dragged into the tunnel entrance, and he was about to be dragged in again.

"Avada Kedavra."

"Avada Kedavra!"

Suddenly, a green light flickered, and two consecutive spells were shot from the windmill, hitting the man in black who was dragging Hoffa, and they fell to the ground with a plop.

Hoffa got up from the ground with his hands cut behind him, and raised his head dizzily. Under the huge broken windmill, an old man with well-combed hair looked sullenly at himself lying on the ground, and raised his wand.

Hoffa had seen this man before, and before the Quidditch World Cup, he specially disguised himself and visited this guy once with Nicole Flamel. It was Barty Crouch Sr.

"Avada"

Old Batty chanted a spell, obviously wanting to kill Hoffa and the two men in black just now.

"stop."

Hoffa raised his arm and said quickly, "I mean no harm. I don't even have a wand."

"Who are you!?"

Old Batty raised his wand and asked, "Who sent you here?"

"I have something very important to tell you, Mr. Crouch, give me a minute."

Hoffa got up from the ground, and when he saw old Barty Crouch, his mind immediately came to life. If he wanted to break the infinite cycle of fate, it meant that he would definitely not be able to work according to the original method.

In other words, Batty Sr. was one of the officials of the Ministry of Magic anyway, and he didn't seem to be under control. If he can get his help, it means that he can get the help of the Ministry of Magic. If he can get the help of the Ministry of Magic, maybe he can do something to change his fate.

"Thirty seconds!" Old Batty pointed his wand at his chin: "Otherwise you will die."

"Someone wants to spread terror in the final of the Triwizard Tournament, just like what happened in the Quidditch World Cup. At least a few thousand wizards disappeared that time. This time will be no exception. It will only be more terrifying. If If the Ministry of Magic does not take action, the entire wizarding world may cease to exist by then."

After a pause, Hoffa said again: "I don't know if you remember Gellert Grindelwald, he is still alive, and he is inside Hogwarts, the two people you killed just now are his men , now the Ministry of Magic must isolate the entire Hogwarts, otherwise there will be great terror."

After speaking, he stared at Crouch closely, trying to see what clues could be drawn from his tightly pursed lips.

After a while, Crouch asked slowly: "You mean, Gellert Grindelwald, a dark wizard who has been missing for fifty years, will create a terrorist incident in the final of the Triwizard Tournament?"

"That's right."

"Why don't you talk to Dumbledore?"

"He was controlled."

"He was controlled?"

"That's right." Hoffa nodded.

"Do you think I'm a fool! People will believe such words?"

Old Barty Crouch shouted sharply. He dragged Hoffa by the collar and dragged him into the broken windmill.

He put his face in front of Hoffa's nose, looked into his eyes carefully, and then showed a look of sudden realization:

"Those eyes, and your looks, I think of it, you are exactly the same as the guy who came to me before the Quidditch World Cup, only a little older."

"who?"

Hoffa hadn't reacted yet.

Old Batty grabbed his collar, his face was livid, and he asked sternly: "Horva Bashir! The flying carpet merchant recommended me the flying carpet, but my son disappeared that night, saying, you and that day What is the relationship between the old man and the child!?"

It was only then that Hoffa thought of how he and Nicole Flamel disguised themselves to deceive Old Barty before the Quidditch World Cup, and he didn't know how to explain it for a while.

"Okay, it really does matter."

Boom!

The door slammed shut, and Barty the Elder threw Hoffa into the cellar under the windmill. Here, Hoffa saw Barty Jr. tied into a rice dumpling and thrown on the ground, with a piece of torn clothes stuffed in his mouth. Struggling desperately, but can't make a sound.

"Damn it, old Barty, let me go!"

Hoffa struggled, but he was too weak during the day.

Old Barty also tied up Hoffa, then walked in front of his son, and roughly tore off the muffler from his mouth: "Say, what's your relationship with him? Are they all doing things for Voldemort?"

"I don't!"

Little Barty scratched his head to make a distinction.

"Brat!"

Old Batty slapped little Batty on the head with his backhand, "You're still lying, don't you admire the mysterious man the most?"

"I didn't do anything for the Dark Lord!"

"Lie," another slap landed on his face.

"Then what are you doing at Hogwarts, disguised as Alastor Moody, assassinating Dumbledore, or Harry Potter? Don't tell me about your vacation here!"

"you"

"Is it right?" Old Batty grabbed the young Batty's hair, "forced him to look up at me," said, where is your master hiding now? "

"Damn, he's your son, can you speak a little softer!!" Hoffa couldn't stand it anymore and cursed angrily.

"What does it have to do with you?"

Old Batty turned his head sharply, with a cold and cruel look: "I have the final say on my family's affairs."

"Damn it, aren't you afraid that he will kill you!? Rabbits will bite if they are in a hurry!"

"He dares? Even if I lend him ten guts, he wouldn't dare." Old Batty patted Little Batty's face disdainfully, completely ignoring the murderous intent hidden in Little Batty's eyes: "Do you dare?"

Hoffa was going crazy. Batty Sr. didn't know what would happen. He still believed that Batty Jr. would not resist. If this continues, these two people will definitely die, not only the young Batty will die, but the old Batty will also die. If he can't even change the fate of Batty and his son, let alone change the fate of Aglaia and himself.

"I can tell you where Voldemort is!"

In desperation, Hoffa's mind turned quickly:

"He is very weak now, as long as you can find him and catch him, believe me, this credit is enough for you to defeat Cornelius Fudge in the next election and become the new Minister of Magic."

There was a few seconds of silence.

Old Barty no longer forced Barty Jr. He slowly let go of his palm and came to Hoffa with his mouth slightly open.

"you?"

"A soldier who doesn't want to be a general is not a good soldier, Mr. Crouch. With all due respect, I don't think Secretary Fudge will do better than you. That position is yours. You let us go and I will take you Find weak Voldemort and help you become Minister of Magic."

Old Batty's expression was uncertain: "Do you really think that I only found Voldemort to become the Minister of Magic?"

"This..." Hoffa's mind was moving quickly. He saw Little Barty who was tied up beside him, and suddenly thought of something, "Believe me, the bond between Voldemort and your son is not that deep. As long as Voldemort is removed, he will definitely return to the world." By your side, become a good son."

Little Barty, who was tied up, blushed, with an expression of embarrassment and anger. He stared intently, almost biting his lips to bleed.

But Old Batty seemed very satisfied, his face finally calmed down, and he said: "How do I know that you didn't deceive me, and how do I know that the place you took me to didn't set up an ambush."

"You can ask your subordinates to inquire about the place of Little Hangleton. If there is an ambush, you don't have to go. If there is no ambush, you will only waste a day. You can kill me after you come back."

Hoffa said very sincerely.

Old Batty looked at him suspiciously. After thinking for a long time, he didn't find anything wrong with Hoffa's words. Finally, he snorted coldly, took a rope and tied Hoffa and Batty Jr. to a pillar, and then He strode away from the windmill, looking for someone to investigate Little Hangleton.

Temporarily out of danger, Hoffa heaved a sigh of relief. After the old Barty left, only he and the young Barty were left in the cellar of the dilapidated windmill. They were both tied to the same pillar. Can't move.

"I will definitely kill him." Little Barty trembled in a low voice.

"Don't overthink it," Hoffa warned him.

"Why don't you resist? With your ability, killing my father should be easy." Little Barty asked in a low voice.

"It's not time yet." Hoffa looked at the sunlight shooting down from the top of the dilapidated windmill, and said bitterly, "And even if the time is up, I won't kill your father."

"Why?"

"I won't kill people anymore."

"Is it."

Little Barty's voice was calm.

"You can't kill him, he's your father," Hoffa repeated.

"Don't lecture me," Barty Jr. suppressed his anger.

"I didn't preach to you. If you kill him, the Ministry of Magic will kill you. They will put you back in Azkaban and let the dementors suck your soul dry."

"So what, it won't be worse than the current situation."

Barty Jr. muttered.

"You've been to Helheim, you should know what it's like. If you really want to die, why let me take you out."

Little Barty was silent.

"They'll kill you, they won't care about you, they'll forget you because you mean nothing to them. There's no sympathy, no mourning, no fear."

"I'm a meaningless person, Mr. Bach." Barty Jr. laughed at himself: "I can't do anything, I have no goal, no vision, only when I help others, can I find a little bit of existence." value."

"Shut up!"

Hoffa suddenly became angry, and he didn't know where this anger came from. He seemed to see the shadow of his past in Little Barty, and that shadow was so deep-rooted that he still couldn't completely abandon it, but he was so Hate this vine-like view of mediocrity.

"Can't you find something for yourself to do? If you don't follow Voldemort, why does old Barty hate you so much?"

"What should I do? I don't know what I want."

Little Barty's voice was not angry: "Maybe old Barty is right, without him I am nothing."

"yes."

Hoffa suppressed his anger and said sharply: "There is a messy room, you sleep in it, you feel dirty, what do you do?"

Little Barty: "I will ask Winky to help me clean up."

Hoffa: "Is Winky here?"

Little Barty: "I"

Hoffa: "Will you clean up yourself?"

Little Barty nodded reluctantly: "Yes."

Hoffa: "What would you do if you cleaned up your room and it was a mess?"

"I will. I will"

Little Batty bit his lips tightly, and said with great difficulty: "I'll clean it up myself, maybe."

"If after cleaning the house, you find that your city is in a mess and no one cleans it up, what will you do?"

Little Barty burst into tears, "Mr. Bach. No one has ever told me this."

Hoffa calmed down a little, and he sympathized with little Barty. Although this guy is simply the worst person he has ever seen, if it weren't for the power-hungry old Barty, maybe he wouldn't be so muddled.

When the man behind was choking, he listened silently, and the choking gradually subsided, Hoffa said softly: "Don't fight with your father again, be soft. I'll get you out of here at night, Promise me, go away, leave England, leave Europe, leave everyone you know, and never look back."

"Then what do you do? Don't you need my help?"

Barty Jr. sniffled.

"As long as you can break out of this damn loop, it will be the greatest help to me." Hoffa said to himself.