An old man and a young man strolled through the fog-shrouded field, passing between two rows of tents.
The morning sun shone through the fog and fell on Hoffa's face, making him a little uncomfortable. But even so, he had to admit that it was very lively here.
In the fog, there were endless tents. Above the tents, there were bundles of triangular banners with the flags of the Bulgarian and Irish national teams. Under the flags, there were rows of tents that looked like hills. Most of the tents didn't look special. They were the same as Muggle tents, but some of them were very unique. They were clearly tents, but there were chimneys, bell-pulling ropes, or wind vanes. It was very interesting.
The air was filled with the fragrance of honeysuckle and gorse. On the side of the road, there were burly men sitting on the ground, sleeping on printed blankets. Their beards were stained with alcohol, and they were snoring as they slept. Obviously, they had a party late last night.
The heather area was full of yellow gorse, shining under the rising sun. Sparkle. He was used to the dark and gloomy soil of fifty years ago. Suddenly coming to such a leisurely place was a refreshing experience for him, as if it had been a lifetime ago.
Nicole Lemay said, "See? This is all thanks to you."
Hoffa pretended that he didn't hear.
When the two of them walked to the middle of the first field, Nicole Lemay stopped. There was a huge tent, bigger and more gorgeous than all the tents next to it. It was extravagantly made with a lot of striped silk. It was like a small palace. There were a few live peacocks tied to the entrance, and a small fountain.
"This is our place. Do you like it?" Nicole Lemay smiled.
"It's quite exaggerated."
Hoffa raised his eyebrows.
If he had seen such a thing five years ago, he might have jumped up in surprise. But now, he began to look at the tent in front of him with a critical eye. The fountain was too small, the flowers were too messy, and the peacocks in front of the door didn't seem to be in good spirits.
"Don't mind it. After all, Ali Basher is a famous flying carpet supplier in Arabia," Nicole Lemay said. "If you want to put on a show, you have to go all the way."
"I didn't say I didn't like it. I like it."
Hoffa opened the tent first. "Let's go in."
The Traceless Stretch Spell was cast on the tent, and the space inside was even larger than the outside. It was three stories high, and the ground was covered with a very complicated carpet. The surrounding short red cabinets were filled with strange metal decorations of the sun and moon. There were also some tall teapots, and the tea table was stacked with sweet food as tall as a pagoda. The air was filled with the fragrance of milk.
Hoffa curiously looked at the Arabian tent, picking up a few decorations from time to time.
Nicole Lemay stood in front of a full-length mirror in the tent. She turned her head and said to Hoffa in a trembling voice, "Can you help me?"
Hoffa put down the Aladdin lamp in his hand. He stood behind Nicole Lemay and helped him take off his gray coat, revealing his wrinkled and hunched body.
After that, Nicole Lemay took out a bottle of compound medicine that was as gray as mud from her pocket and swallowed it with a frown.
Gurgle gurgle.
In the mirror, the skinny old man with age spots bloated like a balloon. His thin body gradually straightened, and his sparse hair gradually became dense and black. Finally, he became a middle-eastern man with black hair and a hooked nose. He looked about 40 years old.
"Phew … Phew …"
After the transformation, Nicole Lemay took a few breaths and shook her head. "I can't. I'm old. I'm resistant to the compound medicine. I think I can only last for less than an hour."
Hoffa's eyes drifted to the back of Nicole Lemay's hand. Although his body became younger, the age spots had not completely disappeared.
Nicole Lemay walked to the wardrobe in the tent and picked from it. As she picked, she sighed. "I'm old. When Chloe is alive, I'll completely retire."
"Do you really love her that much?" Hoffa sat on the carpet and asked. "You're so different in terms of seniority."
"Because of her bloodline ability, she was feared by her parents since she was young. I was the one who raised her. When you have grandchildren, you'll understand me. If you ask me, I'm more like a friend to her. "
"Were you also the one who sent her to France?"
"At that time, there was no war. I hoped that God could cure her illness, but things didn't go as I wished. At least, God didn't show his mercy on her."
"Is there really a God?"
Hoffa sneered and shrugged. He pointed to the top of the tent. "If you ask me, the Allah these people believe in doesn't exist."
"It doesn't have to be God. In alchemy terms, it should be called a higher existence."
"God?"
"More than that. Higher."
Nicole Lemay put on her clothes and turned into a merchant with a tall Arabian turban and a Baghdad robe. There was a peacock feather in the turban.
"Let's go. I'll take you to Barty Crouch."
"It's not like I can't go alone." Hoffa muttered.
"Hmph, you're so young. Even if you dress up luxuriously, Crouch won't remember your name, let alone let you into his tent." Nicole Lemay shook her head. "He's a guy who values power above all else."
When the two went out again, the sun was already halfway up the sky.
The hostility contained in the strong sunlight made Hoffa fall into a trance. It was as if everything in front of him was covered with a layer of crystal clear film. He couldn't help but squint his eyes.
Originally, Hoffa wanted to see if he could see the legendary trio of Harry, Ron, and Hermione at the Quidditch World Cup.
But under this kind of sun, he didn't want to see anything. His mind was full of thoughts of returning to the tent and sleeping until it was dark. But this was just a thought. He still had to find Barty Crouch Jr. He didn't have time to waste.
He plucked a branch and turned it into a pair of sunglasses. He put it on his nose, barely blocking the sunlight. Only then did he feel better.
Nicole Lemay slowed down and whispered beside him, "It's okay. When we go back, I'll make some potions for you to suppress the Blood Clan's power in your body."
"Let's talk about it when we get back."
Hoffa felt like someone was looking at him from behind, so he turned around to look. But he didn't see any familiar figures. There were only a few foreign wizards carrying water bottles, getting up early in the morning to fetch water.
Time passed.
The number of people in the camp gradually increased. Many young boys and girls shuttled through the crowd, fooling around. Some of them were from the country, while others were from abroad. Some spoke in a language that he could understand, and some he couldn't.
Hoffa was a little envious of them.
They were so young and beautiful, and they were in groups. On the other hand, his companion was an old man.
After passing through a tent with a picture of Wilkado Krum, he and Nicole Lemay came to another area. There were fewer tents in this area, and the distance between them was large.
One of the tents was faintly visible in the forest. It was different from the others. Although it maintained the shape of a tent, it wasn't made of cloth, but of wood. It was like a small house, with some pieces of wood covering the roof. There were doors and windows, and there was a small garden around it.
There was a yellow path paved with clay and stones in the garden. The garden was surrounded by a low wall, about three feet high, with a wooden fence at the top. At the corner of the fence, there was a brown wooden board and three gilded balls. The words "Barty Crouch — Do Not Disturb" were engraved on the brown wooden board in white.
Nicole Lemay stood under the three gilded balls and knocked on the door.
For a while, no one opened the door.
The two of them stood at the door and looked at each other. Hoffa took a step back and tiptoed to take a look at the window. The window was covered with a white veil, like a white shadow over one's eyes, making it impossible to see what was inside.
However, he could sense that someone was standing behind the door, bending over and looking at him warily through the gap. The person had been standing behind the door for a long time with a wand in his hand.
Nicole Lemay, who was disguised as Ali Bashir, knocked on the door again and asked politely, "Is Mr. Crouch home? Minister Foggy recommended me."
The pair of eyes behind the door narrowed, and the person in the room slowly retreated. When he was about ten meters away, he said solemnly, "Coming."
With that, he walked to the door with Zizi footsteps and unlocked the door with a click.
The middle-aged man behind the door had short black hair that was neatly combed. His back was straight, and his movements were stiff. He wore a spotless suit and tie. His narrow moustache that was like a toothbrush immediately reminded Hoffa of Adolf Hitler.
"Ah, hello, hello."
Nicole Lemay stretched out her hand shakily. "You must be Mr. Barty Crouch. I've heard so much about you."
The meticulous man hesitated for a moment and shook Nicole Lemay's fingertips reservedly. "You are … Ali Bashir? The CEO of the Arabian Flying Carpet Import and Export Company? "
"Yes … I am."
Nicole Lemay turned her finger and a golden business card appeared. She handed it over. "This, this is my nephew and secretary … Holva Bashir."
Barty Crouch looked at the name card, then raised his head to size up Huo Fa. He frowned, but in the end, he still turned to the side with slight displeasure. "?????????"
”???? "(Thank you).
Nicole Lemay's expression did not change as she entered the room with a smile.
Hoffa was surprised. Old Barty Crouch could even speak Arabic. If he did not bring Nicole Lemay with him, he would have been exposed before he even entered the room.
After entering the room, his eyes quickly scanned the room. In the blink of an eye, he used his powerful mind to scan the entire room.
It was an old-fashioned three-bedroom apartment with a bathroom and kitchen. There was a basement under the kitchen floor, and the entrance to the basement was sealed with magic.
Tom Liddell thought that his subordinate, Barty Crouch Jr, was locked up in Azkaban. What he did not know was that as early as a year ago, Old Barty Crouch had used his wife to replace his son, Buddy Jr., the loyal servant of Lord Voldemort, from Azkaban. Since then, Buddy Jr had been locked up at home.
He was only released on the day of the World Cup in Quidditch. He also played an important role in the Goblet of Fire. He hid in the Hogwarts and pretended to be the teacher of the Defense Against Black Magic class, Mad Eye Moody.
And he was Hoffa's target.
"Please sit."
Old Barty Crouch pointed at the sofa. His eyes kept darting back and forth between Hoffa's silver earrings and sunglasses. He frowned from time to time.
Nicole Lemay sat naturally on the chair with her fingers crossed on her lower abdomen. Hoffa stood behind her.
"Coffee or tea?" Barty Crouch went to the kitchen.
"A glass of water will be fine. Excuse me, Mr. Crouch. With all due respect, it's really hard to find your place."
"Ah, I prefer peace and quiet in private. I don't like to be disturbed," Old Barty Crouch said indifferently.
"You must be very busy recently. The World Cup." Nicole Lemay winked at Hoffa as she tried to get close to him.
"It's alright. There are a lot of things to do in the ministry, but they're all within the scope of my duties."
"Do you live alone?"
"Yes."
Old Barty came out of the kitchen with two glasses of water and handed them to Nicole Lemay. As expected, he ignored Hoffa, who was standing behind Lemay.
"Aren't you going to get a servant to serve you?" When she took the glass of water, Nicole Lemay asked "casually," "Like a house elf or something? For someone in a high position like you, it must be very tiring to do everything by yourself. "
Barty Crouch's gaze became a little sharp. "This has nothing to do with you. I heard that you're here to discuss a trade project."
He sat upright as if he was a diplomat sitting in the United Nations. However, at this moment, Nicole Lemay, who was disguised as Ali Bashir, rolled her eyes and stopped talking.
Hoffa quickly bent down to take a look. He knew that something was wrong. He saw Nicole Lemay rolling her eyes. A trace of saliva flowed out from the corner of his mouth. The old man was acting dumb again.
He quickly took off his sunglasses. His golden eyes turned black. He explained, "I'm sorry, Director Crouch. My uncle drank too much last night. He's not in good spirits today."
Looking at the man who was drooling in front of him, Barty Crouch did not hide his disgust. However, when he saw Hoffa's appearance, he was slightly stunned. He frowned and asked, "Did you graduate from Hogwarts?"
"No."
Hoffa's heart skipped a beat. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing," Barty mumbled. "You look a little like the legend in our college."
"Really?"
Hoffa grinned. The muscles on his face twitched.
He noticed that the decorations in Barty Crouch's house were mostly blue. There were even eagle decorations in some places.
However, Barty did not seem to think much of it. He sat opposite Hoffa and said with an old-fashioned expression, "Since your uncle is not in good condition, you can talk to him. If he's not ready, hurry up and take him away."
Therefore, Hoffa said solemnly, "I'm here to talk to you about the ban on flying carpets. As you know, the communication between the wizards has been getting more and more frequent in recent years. My uncle hopes that you can relax this rule. After all, you've banned flying carpets since 1954 …"
"I can't." Barty Crouch coughed softly and said with a serious expression, "A law is a law. We really don't plan to import magic carpets in recent years."
"Isn't this a violation of the International Wizard Free Trade Act? After all, other countries are doing business with us. You should know that England's flying brooms can also be sold in the international market."
As Huo Fa wrangled with a serious expression, his eyes shifted to the back of the kitchen. He could feel a pair of frightened eyes and a pair of erect ears behind the kitchen counter.
Barty Crouch said meticulously, "It's not like other countries don't impose tariffs on our flying brooms. Every country is different —"
Dong!
Suddenly, the ground shook slightly with a muffled sound. It interrupted Barty Crouch's speech.
Hoffa pretended to be surprised and looked around. "What's wrong? Something's making a noise."
Old Barty Crouch's eyes flashed with helplessness and annoyance. He stood up and said, "How about this? It's useless for you to look for me. The ban on flying carpets is because they're woven goods that are enchanted with magic. However, it's easy for Muggles to mistake them for carpets, which violates the Wizard Confidentiality Act. Therefore, they can't be circulated in our country. Mr. Basher, my suggestion is to find Arthur Weasby from the Department of Magic Abuse. If he can lift the confidentiality rule on flying carpets, then we can talk about it in detail."
He looked like he wanted to see his guest out. Hoffa pretended to be unhappy, but he still helped Nicole Lemay stand up.
"Thank you for your suggestion."
"You're welcome. Have a good time watching the competition."
"You too."
The two shook hands, and then Hoffa helped Nicole Lemay out of the house.
When they came to the shade of an inconspicuous tree, Hoffa grabbed Nicole Lemay's shoulders and shook her vigorously. "What's wrong with you? We were having a good conversation, and now you're in a daze?"
Nicole Lemay, who was being shaken vigorously, quivered and woke up. After looking around, she patted her chest and said, "Ah, I just … fell asleep."
"You can even fall asleep like this? I'm worried if you're up to the task of monitoring Lord Voldemort."
"Isn't it because I didn't sleep well last night? I got up at three in the morning. "
Nicole Lemay muttered, "Let's not talk about me first. The Death Eater locked up in Azkaban prison, Barty Crouch Jr., is really in that tent."
Hoffa nodded slowly. "Yes, I'm sure."
Nicole Lemay sucked in a breath of cold air. "He's actually here. This old guy is really bold. He actually got his son out just like that."
After a pause, he asked again, "Then what are you going to do? Are you going to find him now?"
Hoffa narrowed his eyes, looked at the sun that had climbed to the center of the sky, and shook his head.
"No, this is not the place to make a move, and now is not the time. It won't be too late for us to make a move at night when the people from the Ministry of Magic have gone to watch the competition."
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