The Minister of Ministry of Magic stood at the door for a while and then looked at Dumbledore, as if they were discussing something.
Then, the Minister of Ministry of Magic, wearing a scarf, walked in first.
For some reason, at this moment, Hoffa saw Dumbledore at the door of the ward give him a somewhat pleading look, which made Hoffa somewhat puzzled.
The Minister of Ministry of Magic sat down first, then crossed his legs, sat on the bed opposite him with his fingers crossed, and looked at Hoffa with a smile.
For some reason, his action reminded Hoffa of the last time he visited Liddell.
"Minister."
Hoffa nodded politely at him.
After all, he was the most powerful man in the entire British magic world, and he did not want to be rude.
"How's your recovery?"
He asked with a smile.
Not bad. Hoffa smiled cautiously but politely.
"Thank you for your concern."
He smiled on the surface, but inside, he was puzzled. Why did the Minister of Ministry of Magic come to see him? What was this guy up to?
"Ah, make yourself at home."
The Minister of Ministry of Magic waved his hand, reached into his chest, and took out a chocolate ball with a flower on it, and handed it to Hoffa.
"Speaking of which, I used to be a student who graduated from Ravenclaw, and I still remember that my dean at that time was Professor Adebe."
"Ah, thank you."
Hoffa smiled and took the chocolate ball, not knowing what to say for a moment.
The Minister of Ministry of Magic seemed to be a good person, but when he thought of Dumbledore's pleading look, he felt that things were not that simple.
Leonard Muen said, "Recently, everyone in the school has been talking about you, and the chief editor of The Prophet's daily newspaper has come to me many times, hoping that the hero can appear in the newspaper, but I suppressed it."
"Uh …"
The Minister straightened his collar and changed into a more comfortable position, leaning sideways on the chair.
"Those chief editors are very curious, how on earth did the big explosion happen, and how it was stopped by a miraculous student."
As he spoke, he even used his finger to draw a line in the sky, making a gesture of making headlines.
"I think, as long as I give in a little, you will become a big star."
Hoffa vaguely sensed something, so he said in a low voice, "Mr. Minister, if you have anything to ask, just ask."
"Ah, as expected of a student of Ravenclaw. It's so comfortable to chat with him." Leonard Spensomuen nodded. He sat up a little straighter and lowered his voice.
"It's like this. I want to know more about the Demi-Human King. And his exact identity. "
When the Minister of Ministry of Magic said this, his aura suddenly became sharp. He stared at Hoffa without blinking, his fingers crossed on his knees.
Hoffa was stunned for a moment. He immediately understood the meaning behind Deng Ledo's pleading eyes.
The senior Ravenclaw's intention was definitely not to visit his junior as an ordinary Ravenclaw.
This made Hoffa's mouth feel bitter. Why did Dumbledore send this hot potato to him? Or was it that his status and reputation was insufficient to prevent the Minister from visiting him?
If it was a month ago, Hoffa would be very happy to bring the Demi-Human King to justice and hand him over to Azkaban, Wissenjammer, or the Ministry of Magic. He would also be happy to find out the Demi-Human King's identity and let others help solve the problem.
But now, at this critical juncture.
How could he reveal Silby's true identity? Because Principal Dippet was suspected of being the Demi-Human King, he was dragged to Azkaban and closed down for three months. In these three months, the school was on the verge of closing down.
If the Minister of Ministry of Magic knew that the first principal of Hogwarts was still alive and was an out-and-out madman, Hoffa didn't know what kind of impact it would have on the school.
He didn't have much political sense or experience in negotiation. But he knew that there were too many people with ulterior motives in this world. There would never be a shortage of people who thought they were standing on the moral high ground.
At this moment, Hoffa was in a dilemma that was completely opposite of Harry Potter in the future. Harry Potter tried his best to let others know the truth, but he …
Did he want the school to fall into another bigger scandal after just getting rid of a scandal?
Reputation, justice.
The school, the world.
These things weighed on his heart, making him unable to say it. He simply couldn't say it.
Seeing that Hoffa didn't speak for a while, Leonard said softly, "It's okay, child. These things have nothing to do with you. You've already done a good job.
Tell me, who is the Half-Human King, and it will be easier for the Ministry of Magic to catch him, right? "
Hoffa opened his mouth.
"Uh …"
After hesitating for a while, Hoffa said with some difficulty, "Uh, I don't know, why did you ask me?"
"Put it another way." The Minister of Ministry of Magic interrupted Hoffa. He crossed his legs and moved closer.
"If you don't tell us who he is, we can't give you the award, the Merlin Medal of Honor, the Royal Medal of Honor. Is that right? We can't say that you defeated an unknown enemy. "
"I didn't defeat him."
Hoffa said.
"The public doesn't care, the public only needs positive energy. You are Ravenclaw, you should understand. "
Hoffa was silent.
After a long time, he shook his head. "I really don't know, Minister. You should ask Dumbledore, he's a professor, he knows more than me. "
"You know, don't you?"
The Minister of Ministry of Magic interrupted Hoffa. At this moment, his aura began to rise. "Until the moment before he disappeared, he was fighting with you."
Hoffa shook his head and said in a low voice, "I don't know, why did he attack me?"
"Then why do you think he attacked you?"
"Maybe, maybe he didn't like me."
Hoffa said.
"He has something to do with this school, right?"
The Minister of Ministry of Magic said slightly sharply, "That day, I saw him destroying this school with hatred, tell me, why?"
Hoffa was silent for a long time and replied in a low voice, "I'm sorry, Minister, I really don't know how to answer your question."
The Minister of Ministry of Magic smiled, that smile had some inexplicable meaning.
Then, he straightened up and looked at Hoffa condescendingly. "Condoning criminals is not the embodiment of a good Ravenclaw, Hoffa, Bach. You are still very young, you should know your own path. "
Hoffa lowered his head, his expression unreadable.
The Minister of Ministry of Magic stood in place for a while, but Hoffa only lowered his head and didn't say anything else.
"Even if there's nothing?"
"Yes." Hoffa lowered his head and didn't look at him.
Leonard Moen shook his head in disappointment and was about to turn and leave. Just as he turned around, he seemed to have thought of something and said faintly,
"Oh, right. When Dippet was in Azkaban, he asked me to give this to you. Although he's out, I think it's better to fulfill my promise. "
After saying that, he took out a thin paper box from his sleeve and threw it to Hoffa.
Then, he didn't look at him again and strode out of the door.
Opening the door, Hoffa saw Dumbledore outside the door nodding slightly to him, closed the door, and left the ward with the Minister of Ministry of Magic.
He looked at the box that had mysteriously appeared in his hand.
Hoffa leaned back against the pillow, let out a long sigh, and shook his head.
Silby had completely turned into a sharp sword of Damocles, hanging high above him. Not only was it because of his terrifying strength, it was also because of his sensitive identity.
In this turbulent era, Hoffa could feel how difficult life was. There were all kinds of choices in front of him, sometimes he knew that they were wrong, but he still made them. The taste of this wasn't something that outsiders could understand.
After being depressed for a while, Hoffa opened the small box that the Minister of Ministry of Magic gave him. There was actually a thin book inside.
Opening it, there were words written on the cover.
[François Lebrun. This book is a research notebook from 1879 to 1890.]
Hoffa was surprised. François Lebrun, wasn't this the Magic Watch that made him?
When he flipped it open again, the pages of the parchment were densely filled with diagrams of circuits, some muscle anatomy diagrams, and densely packed explanatory texts.
Hoffa's pupils shrank.
It was actually a rune technique notebook. It recorded the rune technique of the Half Human King.
What did the principal Dippet mean by this?
On the other side, by the black lake in Hogwarts.
A full moon slowly rose over the distant Scottish mountains. There was a gentle breeze that blew over the ground after the explosion. Even after such a wild battle, the vegetation on the ground was still growing.
On the rocky beach by the lake, Tom Riddle was still sitting in his wheelchair, not moving at all as he looked at the moon in the distance. His eyes were as dim as ash.
He had been sitting like this all day.
Even a month.
Behind him stood a tall Slytherin girl. She had golden hair, blue eyes, and a few freckles on her white face.
Seeing the stunned Tom Riddle, she hesitantly said in a soft voice, "Tom, we should go back."
"Be quiet."
Tom Riddle coldly said, as he looked into the distance without blinking.
"It's already late."
The girl bent down and said in a gentle voice.
"You go back first."
"Tom."
Tom Riddle was still looking into the distance. His young and delicate face was as calm as an ancient well, as if he did not hear the shouts of the people around him.
"Tom?"
"Don't call me Tom!!"
Tom Riddle suddenly roared. His eyes glowed red, and his expression suddenly became ferocious.
The girl was startled and unconsciously took two steps back.
Tom Riddle was shocked and quickly restrained his nerves. His facial features became gentle and delicate again.
"I'm sorry, you go back first. I can do it myself. "
The Slytherin girl looked at him in a daze. She forced a smile and said, "Okay, okay."
After that, she silently retreated and left. After watching her leave, Tom Riddle in the wheelchair suddenly began to pant and tremble.
An image suddenly flashed into his mind.
A man was flying in the sky. He roared and countless towers collapsed with his anger.
The image was cut off. He suddenly trembled and covered his head. His fingers trembled like a patient with Parkinson's.
He gritted his teeth and broke out in a cold sweat.
Memories kept flashing back. The images of that night were like mottled glass shards in his mind.
The man walking in the magma.
The huge blood eye pattern on the ground.
The curse that blew the tower in half.
The roar that shook the sky. The shield in the sky.
Every single one of them was stimulating his soul. The complicated emotions made him feel as if he was being cut by a knife. Those were not emotions he should have. It was as if there was an invisible black thread binding his spirit, trying to pull him down. Falling, falling again.
Weak strength, death.
Strength.
He finally could not take it anymore. He rolled out of the wheelchair and fell to the ground. His trembling fingers tightly grasped the grass on the ground. He panted heavily. His saliva dripped onto the grass. His forehead was pressed against the ground. He clenched his fists and hit the ground.
Strength!
Damn it!
As if it had heard his call, the sound of water came from the black lake in the distance. He saw that there seemed to be a vague figure on the surface of the lake.
He could hear a faint singing in his ears.
The singing was ethereal and pleasant. It had the power to reach his soul, making him tremble.
He raised his head. His mind was deeply immersed in the singing.
He began to crawl with difficulty. Little by little, he crawled over.
It was a beautiful figure. She was lying on her side on a protruding reef in the lake. She wore a crown. She was singing to the moon. Her voice was a little sad and nostalgic.
When she sensed someone coming, she glanced at him indifferently. Then she jumped into the black lake and disappeared without a trace.
The singing stopped.
Tom Riddle lay on the rocky beach. After a while, he came back to his senses. He quivered and wanted to retreat from the cobblestone beach.
But as he retreated, he touched a strange thing. It had a strange texture. He picked it up and saw that it was a page that had been soaked in water.
The page had been soaked for a long time and had experienced an explosion. It was very messy and was about to fall apart. But the ancient material was not paper. The words on it had not faded at all.
"Eternal Life, Split Soul"
Eternal life?
He opened the page. After a few glances, he trembled. The book fell back into the lake. He stepped back with his legs. His eyes were wide open. He could barely breathe.
After lying in the distance for a while, he came back to his senses. He swallowed his saliva and crawled back with a pale face.
He looked around like a groundhog. He did not see anyone. There was only the sound of water splashing on the black lake. There was only a round moon in the sky.
He reached out and calmed himself. He touched the book as if he was touching a goddess.
Then, he grabbed the book and gripped it tightly. His expression changed several times.
Finally, he took a deep breath and flipped open the book.
He took in all of the ancient formations and words on it without missing a single detail.
As he read, a smile appeared on Riddle's face. His eyes turned red. His breathing became heavier. The light on his face became more and more dazzling. His chest rose and fell violently.
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