292 Chapter 14, Little Hangleton

two days later.

Little Hangleton, on the northern fringes of Sussex. A train with a chimney creaked to a halt on the old platform.

Hoffa, dressed in ordinary Muggle attire, slowly walked down from the train. In front of him was a small village. He had been looking for this poor place for a long time. The nearest city, Bridge Wells, had nearly two villages. Ten kilometers away.

After Nicole May told him the way of resurrection, he rushed to this place non-stop. If nothing happened, his old classmate should be somewhere in this village at this moment, lingering on his last breath, waiting for the opportunity to be resurrected.

It was less than seven o'clock at the moment, and the weather was gloomy. Thick fog shrouded the village, the streets were muddy, and depressing black clouds hung low in the sky. Between two steep hillsides in the distance, some tombstones can be seen dimly.

The dim street lamps on the gravel road shone on the muddy sidewalk, leaving only the faint light of fireflies. There is also a faint yellow light shooting from the glass windows of the shops on both sides, passing through the confused fog, and shining on the empty street.

"Is this the hometown of Voldemort?"

He said to himself, speaking of it, this place is actually Voldemort's hometown in name, but Tom Riddle's real hometown should be in Wu's Orphanage in London just like him.

The facilities in the village are very simple, and there are not many commercial traces, only a tavern, a convenience store and a fruit stand.

When passing by the fruit stand, Hoffa thought for a while and stopped.

"How do you sell apples?" he asked.

"Five shillings a pound," said the proprietor.

"Give me a pound."

"okay."

"Where are the oranges?"

"Three shillings."

"Is the bag sweet?"

"It must be sweet, try it."

"Then give me a pound."

"By the way, boss, do you have a place called Riddle Mansion?"

"What?" The fruit stall owner had a puzzled look on his face.

"The Riddle House."

"never heard of that."

The fruit shop owner shook his head.

A minute later, Hoffa stood on the country road with a woven bag of fruit, frowning.

He looked around, and only saw a few sporadic lights in the distance, but he didn't see the legendary mansion—the Riddle Mansion. He asked several villagers in a row, but they all said they didn't know, which made him a little confused .

According to the plot of the original book, don't the residents of Little Hangleton like to talk about the tragedy of the Riddle House the most?

Puzzled, Hoffa carried a bag of fruit and walked along the gravel road. As he walked, the street lights became more and more sparse until they disappeared.

After rounding a hillside, the streetlights disappeared completely, leaving only the dark, dense shadows of nettles in the moonlight.

At this moment, Hoffa saw a house half hidden in the distance among the tangled trees. The house was covered with moss on the walls, and the tiles on the roof were gone, revealing the hideous rotting rafters behind.

He stopped in front of this extremely dilapidated house and frowned.

With the help of a powerful mental force field, he could detect an extremely hidden and evil force in this house, which was very similar to the Slytherin curse that Tom Riddle cast on himself back then.

Is it Gaunt's old house?

After thinking for a moment, he confirmed the identity of this dilapidated old house, which made him hesitate, he hesitated whether to go in and take a look.

After all, if this is Gaunt's old house, then the second legendary Deathly Hallows, the Resurrection Stone, is stored in this building.

Move your feet.

Hiss!

On a dead tree, a entangled little snake fled quickly.

Hoffa turned his head sharply.

At some point in the shadow of the dead tree behind him stood a woman.

It was a woman with a woven bag in her hand, with curly black hair, a long purple dress with a V-neck, and thick eyeshadow. Own.

A man and a woman looked at each other silently for a moment.

The woman just looked at him like this, with a dull expression on her face.

Hoffa tilted his head, turned around and walked in front of the thin woman who was also carrying a woven bag. The moonlight shone on his bald head, shining brightly.

Looking up, he could see bottles of milk in the woman's woven bag, some raw meat and vegetables, and a few Muggle bills clutched tightly in her other hand.

After Hoffa approached her, she turned her head subconsciously and took a step back.

"Excuse me, where is the Riddle House?" Hoffa asked politely.

The woman secretly glanced at him with erratic eyes.

Hoffa followed her gaze and saw that it was the top of the valley in the distance, and a waning moon was hiding in the clouds behind the valley.

"In that direction?" Hoffa pointed.

The woman shook her head.

"Excuse me, can you take me there for a while?" Hoffa said slowly, getting closer and closer, the woman's skin had faint fish scale patterns under the pale moonlight.

"Ah" the woman continued to shake her head, turning her head into a rattle.

"Why don't you talk?" Hoffa leaned closer.

"Ah. Ah." She pointed to her mouth, gestured, waved her hands again and again, and made a sound like a mute.

"Dumb, how pitiful."

The woman could not retreat, and leaned against the trunk of the dead tree behind her.

"How can you run out alone at such a late hour? It's very dangerous."

Hoffa sighed and said, "I'll take you back."

As soon as the words fell, the thin black-haired woman turned her head and walked in the opposite direction.

But he bumped his head into Hoffa's chest.

Boom! !

She looked at the bald young man in front of her with a look of horror.

Hoffa stretched out his hand to grab her cold arm, smiled, and slowly but irresistibly ran along her forearm, touched her palm, then separated her slender fingers, and took the woven bag in her hand. referred to his own hands.

"I'll lift it for you," he said.

Snapped!

Without saying a word, the woman threw the woven bag away, turned her waist and ran away without looking back. The speed was so fast that she almost disappeared from Hoffa's sight in the blink of an eye.

Hoffa smiled, carried two woven bags and disappeared on a ghost walk.

I saw the woman in front of her running crazily, her speed getting faster and faster, and finally her legs were twisted. She turned her head while running, as if there was a ghost behind her.

Following the woman, he entered a mountain estate with open heathland on one side and an old yew hedge on the other, with towering giant trees behind the hedge. The manor has a gravel road covered with lichen, and the stone pillars on both sides of the gate are full of tattered heraldic patterns. In addition to the gravel road driving in the middle, Hoffa found that there were gaps in the hedges and paths pierced through them. The house could not be seen from the road, and the surrounding environment looked gloomy and decadent.

After arriving at the empty manor, the thin black-haired woman threw herself on the ground, struggling in pain and twisting, the more she struggled, the longer her body became longer, and finally, her legs became entangled, her head became bigger and sharper, and finally, she became A ten meter long snake.

After the giant snake circled the hedge three times, it swished in.

Hoffa also circled the hedge three times, after he came out.

A majestic but dilapidated old castle appeared in front of him. In the dense fog, it stood in the gray cold light. There were many diamond-shaped small panes of glass windows on the square, bare high walls. The courtyard was littered with rubbish and overgrown with bushes, as it had been left by its builders in the early seventeenth century.

Standing under the old castle, Hoffa knew it clearly. It seems that in order to hide his identity and location, Tom not only concealed the Riddle House with magic, but also erased the memories of the residents of Little Hangleton about the Riddle House.

However, he was also a little curious, if he saw that guy he hadn't seen for a long time, how should he face him.

In the memory of this timeline, the last time they met, I used mistletoe to take away a fragment of his soul, I'm afraid he hated himself to death.

However, after experiencing such an absurd life, Hoffa not only can't bring up much hatred for Tom, but also has a sense of sympathy and helplessness.

(rustle.)

"Hah!!"

Suddenly, a giant black snake rushed out from the shadow of the castle, jumped more than three meters high, opened its mouth wide in the air, and bit Hoffa's neck sideways, its scales glistening in the moonlight.

Hoffa took a look at it. He wondered why Naniji could turn into a woman. To be honest, he was shocked when he first saw this woman. She was obviously not an Animagus, but she had an unknown transfiguration spell on her body. , the Transformation Curse is more like some kind of curse, not only uncontrollable but also very dangerous.

Click!

The snake's head bit Hoffa's bald head, but failed to bite in.

"do not move."

Hoffa said that he slowly combined the two woven bags into one, then grabbed Naniji's neck with one hand and twisted it gently.

The big snake let out a wail, hit the floor heavily, and twisted wildly.

Hoffa didn't want to tear himself apart with Tom. After all, he wanted something from others, so he didn't make it difficult for Naniji, so he dragged his tail and walked into the gap in the old porch, where there was a steep staircase leading to the old castle. . He looked up at the eerie place, the remnants of old rough-hewn stone walls, the musty-smelling stacks of coffins, some of lead and some of stone, leaning against one wall. Stacked high up to the arches and roofs hidden in shadow above.

The big snake Naniji was probably desperate, and let him drag him without moving.

When walking to the castle hall, a roar suddenly came from a distance: "All petrified!"

A blue spell shot from the shadows on the second floor.

Then there was a crazy bombardment of spells: "Break into pieces, fainted, there are many obstacles, let go of all your strength, Avada Kedavra"

Colorful lights flashed randomly.

The round of spell bombing ended, and the hall was bombed into chaos.

Thick smoke billowed, gravel and wood chips crackled and fell straight down.

In the corridor on the second floor, Peter Pettigrew squatted on the ground, holding his wand in his palm, stretched out from the middle of the guardrail, staring at the center of the hall with watery eyes.

I don't know if it was his hallucination, but just now he saw a bald boy with a woven bag dragging Naniji's tail from the outside, which frightened him. He has lived for so many years and has not I have seen such an inexplicable picture.

You know, Naniji is more than ten meters long, and can swallow a grown man with a meal, but now he is being dragged by his tail. What kind of concept is this?

The dust settled.

The hall was empty.

As if the man dragging Naniji's tail just now was just his hallucination.

"Haha." Peter Pettigrew wiped the cold sweat off his forehead, licked his lips, and laughed: "What's the matter, have you been too nervous recently?"

"Peter Pettigrew?"

A tentative question behind him made the short man's face turn pale, and he almost petrified on the spot. After a full five or six seconds, he mechanically turned his head little by little.

Behind him, the bald man dressed like an ordinary Muggle street high school student was holding two woven bags, looking down at himself with a smile on his head.