After meeting with his former potions teacher, Hoffa got the information he wanted. Although it was only for a week, it was enough to let him breathe a sigh of relief.
As long as the information wasn't leaked immediately, he still had time to crack the Manse's scheme. In any case, in order to find Chloe, he had to catch that guy sooner or later.
Tom Riddle seemed to have something to discuss with Slughorn, so Hoffa didn't stay any longer. He got up and bid farewell to his former potions teacher and walked out of the ward.
It was dawn, and the sky was turning white. At this moment, a faint sense of sleepiness welled up in his heart. It was a very subtle feeling. It was a mixture of disgust, exhaustion, and the effect of his strength fading. It made him want to crawl back into Slughorn's dark room.
What's going on? Hoffa covered his eyes and looked at the sun in the distance. The sun at dawn was like a screaming child. It was annoying, and the sun was much more glaring than usual.
As he looked, he couldn't open his eyes.
The sleepy him felt that something was wrong. His vision became blurry, and his strength was fading faster and faster. He sat on the ground, panting. He tore open the clothes on his chest. The bright red three-ringed scar on his chest was now extremely dim, as if it had faded.
No matter how stupid he was, he knew what had happened. After he was reborn in the blood pool, he had some vampire characteristics. He would be full of energy at night, but he couldn't see the sun. Everything was reversed.
"Damn it!" he cursed angrily. "What's the use of being so powerful at night!?"
The little bit of excitement from receiving Slughorn's help disappeared. He had thought that he had gained a blessing in disguise. He had obtained the power of a god, but now it seemed that this power was also incomplete.
If strength at night was accompanied by weakness during the day, then he would rather choose the balance of the past.
The sun gradually rose, and the sleepiness grew stronger. When the sun was high in the sky, he was already yawning. He was so tired that he couldn't even lift his head.
A house elf accidentally bumped into him, and the box on its head fell to the ground. It apologized profusely. Hoffa helped it up and said while yawning, "Hey … You … Can you … Can you … Can you prepare a room for me … I want … I want to sleep for a while …"
The little elf immediately stood up straight. "Of course, sir."
Then, a group of house elves appeared. They lined up and placed the boxes on the ground like building blocks. Not long after, a small house was built on the ground. There was a bed made of wooden boxes in the house. The house elves even thoughtfully covered the bed with a soft quilt.
There was a smell of sawdust in the newly built house, but Hoffa couldn't care less. When he fell on the quilt, he couldn't even open his eyes.
At this moment, he hated the Manse to the core for turning him into such a monstrosity. Before he fell asleep, he muttered unwillingly, "Just you wait, I'll definitely kill you …"
.....
.....
When he opened his eyes again, he was standing in London's King's Cross Station, looking like an eleven-year-old. It was raining heavily. He was pushing a small cart with some luggage on it. The pedestrians around him were very blurry.
He didn't think about how he got there, and he couldn't remember. He only remembered that today was the first of September. It was the first day of school, and he had to pass through Nine and a Quarter Station to go to school in Hogwarts.
So he pushed the cart and ran forward. Just as he was about to hit the wall, the cart scattered and he fell. When he got up, he found that he had bumped into a girl.
This scene felt familiar to him, so he quickly went to help the girl. After he helped the girl up, he found that she had Chloe's face and wine-red hair.
"Are … Are you okay?" he stuttered, feeling that something was wrong.
"I'm fine."
The little girl's voice was as soft as a mosquito's buzzing. She nervously held her hands together and stood on the spot with her legs swollen.
Hoffa bent down to help her pack her things. She quickly squatted down and helped him pack as well. After they were done, they passed through the stone wall of Nine and a Quarter Station and boarded the train to Hogwarts.
A month later, he was riding a wobbly flying broom on the field of the castle in Hogwarts. He was full of envy as he watched others fly around skillfully in the sky.
Time passed, and a few years later.
He was also on the flying broom. He waved the wooden stick in high spirits. A Ghost Fly Ball approached him at an extremely fast speed, and he used all his strength to hit it.
With a crisp slap, the Ghost Fly Ball made a charming arc and fell into the round frame in the distance.
"250 to 90! This is the score that can't be changed even if the Golden Cat Thief is caught! Ravenclaw's legendary player, Hoffa Bach, has once again sent the team to a position that is just inches away from the championship …! "
The commentator on the stage shouted excitedly as if he didn't care about his life. Hoffa was flying in the sky, looking around happily and proudly. In the crowd, he saw a red-haired girl covering her mouth and looking at him with tears in her eyes.
Time passed quickly.
This time, he was lying in front of the fireplace in the warm living room. He held a bottle of wine in one hand and stretched out his left leg. That leg was wrapped in a thick bandage.
"I think it's time to live a little more realistically."
The red-haired girl was kneeling on the other side of the coffee table, changing the medicine for his injured leg. She said uneasily, "You can't always play Quidditch like this. One day, something will happen …"
"What can I do?" Hoffa drank a mouthful of wine and said gloomily, "I don't want to work for Gringotts and the Ministry of Magic."
"That can't be helped." The girl held his hand, "Why don't I tell my family that they have a magic potion shop in Diagon Alley …"
"Enough!"
Hoffa slammed the table, "Can you not talk to me about this nonsense? Do you think I'm someone who needs to rely on your parents? "
Time passed quickly.
A few years later, he was sitting at the front desk of the magic potion shop, wiping the crucible on the counter. A little boy stood in front of him, "Dad, this year's crucible, I want a brass one."
"Why? Everyone else uses tin."
"Who told you that everyone else uses tin? Everyone in Slytherin uses copper."
"Then you can earn money to buy it."
He threw away the rag in his hand in annoyance.
The child cried loudly.
Time passed quickly again.
More than ten years later, he was sitting on a bed in Saint-Mango Hospital. A doctor in a white coat was looking at a long list, "Middle stage of dragon pox. Fortunately, it was discovered in time. Otherwise, he would be gone. Do you want treatment?"
"The treatment fee is …"
"One thousand gold coins." After a pause, the doctor added, "Every week."
Hoffa looked uneasily at the red-haired middle-aged woman outside the door and the tall young man standing beside her. For a moment, he felt extremely depressed.
Time passed quickly again.
He was sitting in a wheelchair with a paper crown on his head and a few ribbons on his shoulders. In front of him stood a row of laughing men and women. Some of them were wearing pointed red hats, some were holding flower spray guns, and some were cutting cakes on the table.
A middle-aged man in the crowd was holding a child. He raised his cup, "Happy seventieth birthday to the world's most amazing father."
"Happy birthday ~"
Everyone in front of him raised their cups.
This scene reminded Hoffa in the wheelchair of something. It seemed that many, many years ago, he had a dream. In the dream, there were many vampires who raised their cups to celebrate his father's birthday … The vague memory made him a little irritated. He felt that the older he got, the more useless his brain became.
"I need to go out and get some fresh air," he said.
The middle-aged man in the crowd immediately put down the child and pushed his wheelchair, but he flatly refused.
A few minutes later, he rolled his wheelchair to the side of the road. Looking at the young children passing by on their bicycles and laughing, he felt that something was missing in his life. He had lived a muddle-headed life. It seemed that the things he had obtained were not what he wanted.
Beep!!
An ear-piercing whistle came from behind him.
He turned his head to look. A glaring light flashed past at an extremely fast speed. It was a young biker on a motorcycle. He did not manage to stop in time when he turned a corner.
"I …"
Bang!
An angry curse was stuck in his throat. He could not dodge in time and was directly hit by the motorcycle.
With a crack of his spine, the two wheels of the wheelchair flew into the air. Hoffa's head and buttocks had an intimate contact. His vision instantly turned dark.
.....
.....
"F * ck!!"
He suddenly woke up from his sleep. In front of him was a dark room with a dim oil lamp. In the house built by the house elves, the strange smell of new wood was still there.
However, Hoffa felt as if a century had passed. The pain of loss and the feeling of being separated from reality were so strong that he almost could not distinguish between dream and reality. After understanding what had happened, he jumped out of bed. He took out the glass ball from his waist and stared at the monster inside.
"You did this?"
The monster inside the glass ball had woken up. It was circling around inside the ball. It looked very happy. "I've told you, you'll either spend the rest of your night drinking blood or you'll spend it in a nightmare. You've chosen the nightmare."
"That was clearly daytime!"
Hoffa gritted his teeth and held up the glass ball. In just a short day of sleep, he actually lived a new life. It was a rather useless and aggrieved life. In the end, he was still killed by a motorcycle. It was really too funny.
"To you, it is night. You are blessed by the God of Night, but at the same time, you are cursed by the day. Day and night have been reversed for you."
Hoffa looked outside. The sky was already dark. However, in his eyes, the black night was as clear as day.
"I won't have a nightmare every day, right?!"
"As long as you sleep," the little monster immediately replied.
Hoffa bent down and picked up a piece of wood from the ground. He pointed at the glass ball, his hand trembling. "Why?"
"Every time a person experiences emotional fluctuations in a nightmare, my power will increase."
"And you said I'm not your believer!?"
Hoffa made a gesture of wanting to smash it, but the little monster was not afraid at all. "I saved you. If you didn't hide in my nightmare world, with your level of power, you would have been burned to ashes by the sun sooner or later." It turned around in the glass ball. "You want to crush me just because of a dream?"
"But you are not allowed to pry into my heart!" He said angrily.
"There is nothing strange about it. Forgive me for being blunt, but this is a rather boring nightmare. "
"You …"
Huo Fa wanted to smack it to death with a stick, but he felt that a stick alone probably wouldn't be enough to kill a god. Moreover, he felt that what the other party said made sense. It was indeed a very boring nightmare, but it was precisely because it was so boring that it was even scarier.
"Damn it …" He threw away the wooden board and the glass ball on the bed.
On the box beside the bed, there was a glass of ice water sent by the house elf. He raised his head and drank it in one gulp. Slowly, he calmed down from the palpitations of the nightmare.
After calming down, he tore open the clothes on his chest and pointed at the hideous scar. "I can't recover anymore? Can I only be like a vampire, hiding in the day and coming out at night?"
"Nothing can't be changed. You are still very young. There is still a long way to go," the little monster said.
Hoffa felt slightly better. He buttoned up his clothes.
"Night God saved me, but you are the one who benefited. Even from my point of view, you are too much of a scoundrel."
"I can answer your question, if you have it," the little monster said calmly.
"Believe me, I have seen the hearts of hundreds of millions of people and know endless mysteries. It is very worth it to exchange the price of nightmares every night for my company."
"Last time I asked you how to defeat the Manse, you didn't answer. Now you are talking big again. "
"That is because you already know the answer," the little monster said.
"I know? How would I know! "Hoffa was puzzled." If I knew the answer, would I have been pierced in the heart by him … "
Suddenly, he stopped talking. He fell into deep thought.
He remembered the last nightmare. The man named Aldo had warned him that the Manse was very scary, but he did not pay enough attention to his words. He had paid a heavy price and almost lost his life.
However, before Aldo died, he had told him that if he was not his match, he could try the black mistletoe.
"Black mistletoe … what is that?"
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