Harry Potter – I’m The Legend

Seeing the gray wand lying on the fireplace, the one that was slightly rough, with knotted branches, Hoffa almost didn't shed tears.

His wand, the wand who had been away for more than four years, was taken away by the half-man King Silby, and now lies peacefully in front of him.

"Man..."

The Coke bottle fell on the ground, and he extended the hand trembling and grabbed the wand on the fireplace.

However, something puzzling happened.

When he touched the wand, he no longer had the bloodline connection that he felt when he used his own wand in the past. Neither can it be deformed, nor can it be used spell. As if what he was holding in his hand at the moment was just an ordinary branch.

After waving a few times out of thin air, the joy of reunion was replaced by confusion.

He turned the wand upside down and watched it several times. There is no doubt that this is his own wand, the semifinished product wand of the wandless core that the old man sold to him when you were at Ollivander's. . In its tail section, there is a deep notch, that is a square-shaped font, [封]

It’s just that it’s been about fifty years too long, and that word has faded. The red paint that was once turned into ordinary scratches.

"This is my wand."

Hoffa turned around and said.

"Yes."

The old Hoffa who cooks in the kitchen replied.

"Why can't it be used?"

Hoffa continued.

There was no answer, there was only a peaceful sound of turning off the fire in the kitchen.

Hoffa puts down wand and goes to the kitchen: "You defeated him, otherwise why would you take wand back?"

"Don't ask more, you will know."

p>

Old Hoffa said in a tranquil voice, put a handful of chopped green onions into the gurgling iron pot, then put the iron pot on the dinning table, and said gently: "Hungry, first Come and have some dinner."

Watching him slowly put three dishes and one soup on the dinning table and took off his apron, young Hoffa gritted his teeth and sat down.

The dishes are very simple, a sweet and sour pork ribs, a lamb and radish soup, a bowl of stir-fried vegetable salad, and several kinds of pickles.

"Come on, have a taste." Old Hoffa pointed to the sweet and sour pork ribs on his left.

The young Hoffa was still a bit at a loss, but he didn't refuse. He picked up the chopsticks, grabbed a piece of ribs, leaned to his mouth, and took a bite.

The sweet and sour icing and the strong aroma of gravy permeated at the same time, let him chew subconsciously, and finished the ribs in three or two. At this moment, he even forgot the threat of death.

"Try the soup." Old Hoffa kindly served him a bowl of mutton soup. The rich soup is sprinkled with a few jade green onions, which makes people salivate as soon as they smell it.

Young Hoffa’s eyes are a little more expectant. He took the bowl and cautiously clamped it. Lamb, put it in your mouth.

It was simmered quite badly, and it felt like it was about to melt as soon as it was eaten. The real meaty aroma broke out, and the wonderful juice flowed across the mouth, filling the mouth. Coupled with the fragrance of radish and the deliciousness of onion, it is beyond words.

He shuddered. This is real Chinese food. It is the first time he has eaten such authentic oriental food after coming to this world for so long. I have to say that the old age is very particular about his own cooking skills.

Under the shining of food, he temporarily forgot the threat of time flares spreading, and quietly enjoyed this wonderful, first meal fifty years later.

When he was eating, old Hoffa sat next to him, silently helping him with soup and food, and occasionally eating a few bites by himself, tacitly like a pair of father and son who had been separated for many years.

Outdoor, the sunset in 1994 was quiet and warm. There was no air defense warning, no tanks rumbling past, and no planes across the sky. Only the pigeons chirp chirp twitter twitter chat in the eaves, and a few neighbors talk with the dog downstairs. The content of the chat is mostly related to the weather and children's learning.

Indoors, the two finished their meal in silent tacit understanding. Old Hoffa got up to pack the dishes and went to the kitchen to wash the dishes.

And after young Hoffa fills up his stomach, worrying things rise in the mind again. This is the most satisfying meal he has eaten in the past few years. If it were not for the sword of Damocles, maybe he would give a thumbs up and praise his future cooking skills.

But now, he really has too many doubts, looking forward to the elderly himself to explain to him.

Finally, after washing the dishes, old Hoffa returned to the dinning table.

The young Hoffa straightened up immediately: "Can we talk about it?"

As if with a sharp heart, the old man raised his hand, he said with a smile: "Don’t you Speaking, let me ask you a few words first."

"What are you asking?"

"Stay here." The gray-haired old man in front of him said with his cheek a smile: "I'll be your father."

"Huh!?"

Hoffa was stunned by the sudden sentence of this old bastard.

"For more than sixty years, I have experienced everything, except that there is no child, and no one has called me father. This is a great regret in my life. Would you like to call me?"

"Damn, can you tell me something serious?" Hoffa sighed, looking at his smiling old face, and feeling helpless in every way. It's all this time, and I have to make a joke.

"Don't tell me." Old Hoffa stretched out a little aggrieved hand: "Look, we have the same blood in our bodies, we have the same surname, the only difference is that I am fifty years older than you. Years old, what's wrong with calling father?"

"mental disorder!"

Hoffa resisted his discomfort and cursed with the gentlest words he could find.

However, the old Hoffa in front of him drew a pure gold key from his pocket, said with a smile: "I have more than three million gold Galleon deposits in Gringotts, and I am waiting for someone to inherit it."

Hoffa immediately squeezed out a smile: "father."

"ha ha ha!"

The old man laughed heartily.

The young Hoffa couldn’t help but laughed, and his face turned gray after laughing for a second, sighed: "Enough joking."

He pulled himself away The clothes on his chest, I saw his chest from below the collarbone, almost invisible. Only a weird-shaped heart could be seen thumping and beating in the transparent chest. He rubbed his palm, and countless crystal shavings floated from his palm.

"It's all this time, just tell me, how can I survive?"

Old Hoffa put away the golden key and straightened his hair indifferently: "Actually I have studied Power of Time. There is only one case for time flares, unprotected time travel."

"Unprotected time travel, what does it mean?"

" Time is like a rushing train. Everyone’s seat on this train is regulated. Someone is at the front, some is in the middle, and some is at the rear. If you are powerful enough, you can be in the carriage. Move. But you are impossible to be both at the front and at the rear of the car at the same time.

There are two Hoffa.Bach in this time and space, but we are not Chloe, nor do we have the blood of her magical laws. , It must be impossible to have two selves at the same time. So time flare will appear, which is a manifestation of extreme uncertainty. There are too many chaotic futures in you, and the law of this world does not allow so much uncertainty."

Hoffa frowned after thinking for a moment: "Why Harry can, but I can't?"

"Harry and Hermione have Ministry of Magic's Time and Space Change device, which is also a kind of protection The machine is like an oxygen cylinder in the deep ocean."

"Do you have Time-Turner?"

"No, that thing is too weak and can't fight Law Power for fifty years ."

"What is the solution?"

"It's very simple."

Old Hoffa took out a Citibank bank card from his trouser pocket. , Put it in the palm of young Hoffa's palm: "The password is 19940724, which is today's date."

"Why are you giving me money."

Hoffa looked at him pale and sluggish "I'm going to die."

The elderly Hoffa gently held his hand, moved his head, and said in a very low voice in his ear: "You must remember what I said, people can't When you die, you die, but when you deserve to die."

After that, he slowly backed up and sat on a chair.

Young Hoffa stared at each other blankly.

The sunlight of the setting sun shines through the window and shines on the old man's face, adding a somewhat mysterious color to his old face.

I saw the old man in front of him tidying up his white T-shirt calmly and unusually, sitting on the chair, and then drew a silver revolver from his jeans pocket.

He smiled, and even looked at his young self with some evil interest, and stuffed the silver revolver into his mouth.

"Hey..."

"Hey!!"

Hoffa's eyes suddenly widened with an extremely bad premonition rise in the mind , He jumped down from the chair and reached out to grab the gun.

With a sharp gunshot of neither too big nor too small.

Boom! !

Hoffa petrified with his hands out was on the spot.

Outside the house, as the sun sets, a few neighbors have finished chatting. They smiled and waved to each other, leading the dogs to the house leisurely. The pigeons in the yard are still chirp chirp twitter twitter, waiting for the owner to feed.

In the house, the clock on the wall is ticking.

A few drops of flying blood slowly fell from the gray-haired boy's face. His eyes were wide and his face was deathly pale like a sculpture.

One thousand six hundred kilometers away, Neumundgaard, Austria.

The crow is entrenched on the top of the tower, and in the sky hangs a red moon that has been eaten away by dark clouds. In the room at the top of the tall tower that had been in the dust for a long time, a skinny silhouette woke up suddenly.