Chapter 2 2, Butterfly Wings

In 1938, Dumbledore was not Headmaster of Hogwarts. At that time, he was just a teacher in a transformation class at Hogwarts, probably in his fifties. But it was just this year that he did a trivial thing, which completely changed the future magic world.

He recruited the future Great Demon Lord Voldemort into Hogwarts, and since then started Tom Marvolo Riddle's pursuit of ambition.

Hoffa has read the original novel, and he was once one of the fans of this novel. But he never imagined that he would travel to this world after his death, even to England in 1938, and he would meet one of the world's most popular wizards right after waking up.

He didn't know what this meant, but after Mrs. Cole left the room, Hoffa had already retreated to the corner. He looked at Dumbledore, fearing that he would take a Legilimency on himself, or forget about it.

Both results are not acceptable to him, after all, he has just experienced death and memory confusion, and his nerves are still in a fragile state of tension.

But Dumbledore didn't do that. Obviously, there was only interest in his eyes. He is very interested in the children in this orphanage who can call their own names.

He was not in a hurry to talk to Hoffa, but untied the cat hanging from his head, then leaned against the broken table in the room, and looked at Hoffa with a smile.

"Muggles don't know my name, Hoffa."

He had already remembered Hoffa's name.

"Oh." Hoffa replied dryly. In his previous life, he was a young man who lived in his teens. Dumbledore is at least fifty-six years old now. Facing an old wizard who has lived for so many years, he did not No sense of superiority.

"You didn't ask me what a Muggle is."

Dumbledore stared happily at Hoffa with blue eyes and said, "What's your full name, Hoffa."

"Hoffa Bach."

Hoffa sighed and decided to tell the truth. In front of this level of existence, he can only play an honest child well.

"Bach...it sounds like a family from France." Dumbledore pondered for a moment. Then he drew out his wand, laying it flat on his lap.

Hoffa flinched instinctively, his eyes secretly vigilant, he had recovered from the initial shock. Now he just wants to ask Dumbledore to leave early, and then organize his thoughts. Facing a new life well.

Dumbledore was keenly aware of Hoffa's fear, so he raised his wand and pointed it at Hoffa.

Hoffa's eyes were full of vigilance, he took a step back, and pressed against the corner of the wall.

What is he going to do? What is Dumbledore going to do to me?

Are you coming? Forgetting the curse? Dementia Curse?

He was distraught.

Just when he was extremely nervous.

boom!

A glass on the table exploded suddenly, as if in response to Hoffa's nervousness.

Then.

Puff!

Accompanied by a pop like a shoddy trumpet, like a cheap Halloween salute. Several ribbons emerged from Dumbledore's wand, and they floated softly down from the sky, with a few dots of light falling on Hoffa's face.

Hoffa stuck to the corner of the wall dumbfounded, letting the ribbon fall and hang on his head.

What's happening here? There is no such play in the original book, what should I do?

Dumbledore coughed lightly, put away his wand and muttered, "Am I that scary?"

Hoffa didn't speak, he looked at the cup on the table, and then at Dumbledore's happy face. completely speechless.

"Did Beauxbatons send you an invitation, Hoffa?"

Hoffa shook his head silently.

"I see...I know." (Hoffa doesn't know what he knows.)

With that said, he stood up, put the top hat on his head, and said gently to Hoffa.

"Maybe you should change the environment. By the way, I also like short-haired cats. Find a better environment and bury this little guy."

After finishing speaking, he blinked slightly at Hoffa, turned and walked out the door.

After Dumbledore left, Hoffa sat down slowly against the corner of the wall.

For a while, his brain went down, and after a while, he finally confirmed his coordinates in time and space.

London, England in 1938, and an orphanage with Tom Riddle.

And what Dumbledore has to do now is to recruit the future Dark Lord.

After a while, Hoffa heard a slight rattling sound upstairs, like a nest of mice gnawing on the table. The sound was so subtle that it couldn't be heard without listening carefully.

But it wasn't a mouse, and Hoffa knew what was going on.

When Dumbledore recruited 11-year-old Tom Riddle to Hogwarts in 1938, he expressed displeasure with Tom's bullying of other children. At this moment, he suppressed Tom with a burning wardrobe, and forced the future big devil to make the only confession in his life.

The story of Harry Potter is very long, but if you really want to say it, maybe this paragraph is the real beginning of the whole story.

After all, if Tom Riddle hadn't entered Hogwarts, he wouldn't have become Voldemort, and if Voldemort hadn't killed Harry Potter's parents, nothing would have happened afterwards.

And now, this historic moment happened right above his head.

There were faint conversations upstairs.

...

A certain boy: "I have no money!"

Dumbledore: "That's easy to solve. Hogwarts has a fund dedicated to those who need funding to buy textbooks and school robes. I'm afraid some of your magic books can only be bought second-hand, but..."

Boy: "Where can I buy magic books?"

Dumbledore: "In Diagon Alley, I brought your bibliography and school supply list, and I can help you get everything together..."

Boy: "You want to accompany me?"

Dumbledore: "Of course, if you..."

Boy: "I don't need to..."

 ….

Five minutes later, the conversation ended, and the sound of the door closing was heard upstairs.

Just when Hoffa thought that the first meeting between Dumbledore and Voldemort was over, Dumbledore's voice came down again.

"By the way, the child whose room you robbed is also a wizard. If you are familiar with London, I hope you can help him."

Tom Riddle let out a mocking laugh: "Hoffa, that's him?"

Dumbledore stopped answering, closed the door and left.

...

Downstairs, after hearing all this, Hoffa completely collapsed on the bed, he didn't know whether he should cry or laugh. There is no doubt that he has a talent for magic, and Dumbledore has just tested his talent in a completely unexpected way.

No matter what it looks like in the novel, the current Dumbledore is much stronger and sharper than I imagined, maybe because he is younger now.

And Voldemort is far more terrifying than he imagined, his predecessor is already dead. Killed by 11-year-old Tom Riddle just for a room. If Dumbledore knew that he was facing an 11-year-old murderer, he probably would not have recruited him into Hogwarts.

Lying on the bed in a big character, he sighed. Hoffa habitually wanted to take out his mobile phone and send a WeChat message, complaining about the reality. But when he touched his pocket, he smiled bitterly.

There are still more than 70 years before Jobs releases the Apple 4. That guy is probably still a single-celled organism, and he should die of the idea of ​​playing with a mobile phone.

After sorting out his thoughts, Hoffa picked up the cat that was hanged by Tom Riddle, dug a hole in the corner of the orphanage and buried it.

Looking at the bags piled up with small pebbles in front of him, Hoffa pressed his chest and said softly, "I will take your share and live well."

Not long after, the sound of dinner was heard from the orphanage.

Hoffa adjusted his mentality, and the gloomy expression on his face was swept away. I have magical talents, and I am likely to enter Hogwarts to study. Isn't this exactly what I dreamed of in my childhood in my previous life? That being the case, there is nothing to complain about.

...

There was only a piece of yellowish white bread, two slices of bacon, half a broccoli and a glass of orange juice on the dinner plate.

This was Hoffa's first meal in London in 1938. The food in the orphanage is not very good, it can only be regarded as keeping the children from starving.

Coupled with the fact that British cooks are notoriously perfunctory, Hoffa felt that the bacon in his mouth was extremely fried.

But before he could barely swallow the bacon in his mouth, a plate was placed heavily on the opposite side of Hoffa.

clang!

Hoffa looked up with half a strip of bacon in his mouth.

A tall boy with dark hair and pale skin, very handsome. At least Hoffa thought he was much handsomer than he had been in this life. I belong to the kind of ordinary boy next door, while the other party is the kind of handsome who can attract talent scouts when he grows up and walks on the street.

"Your forehead heals pretty fast, Hoffa."

The boy squinted his eyes and said softly, his eyes seemed to be looking at some novelty toy.

There is no doubt that the handsome boy in front of him is the famous Tom Marvolo Riddle. Replacement if fake. The most powerful dark wizard in the history of European magic, Voldemort. Fifty years later, his name cannot be mentioned.

Hoffa hated him.

No one would like a child who dared to kill at the age of eleven and used all means for his ends. And the child will not repent at all.

But Hoffa was not afraid of the other party. At this time, he was not Voldemort, no matter how awesome he was, he was just a child.

He swallowed the bacon in his mouth and stood up slowly.

"Go away, Tom."

Hoffa said calmly, his momentum was not lost to the opponent at all.

Tom was taken aback for a moment, then his face suddenly turned pale, and a red light flashed in his eyes, looking like a ferocious beast.

But immediately, something unexpected happened to Hoffa. He didn't rush over to beat himself up, and he didn't cast any magic, but smiled slightly and leaned closer to his head, as if the brutality before was just an illusion.

"You're my kind, Hoffa."

He pointed to the children eating dinner next to him and said softly, "People who are different from these idiots."

Hoffa was startled.

He can only say that after all, he is a young Voldemort, a future generation of heroes. This kind of xinxing is not comparable to that of an ordinary child. The front foot also pushed himself off the cliff, and the back foot came to pull him up. No wonder later generations can pull up such a huge team of Death Eaters.

To be honest, if I didn't know a little about the future direction, I'm afraid I would really be confused by his contagious smile.

Tom: "If you want to be my friend, I can take you to a magical place."

After speaking, he even extended his left hand to Hoffa with a smile on his face.

But Hoffa just sneered at the palm hanging in the air.

"I would go to Hogwarts myself, but I would not shake a dirty hand that kills an innocent animal."

As soon as he finished speaking, Tom Riddle's small face was full of hatred.

All the light bulbs on the ceiling of the orphanage flickered, the air suddenly tightened, and the orange juice on the dinner plates of all the children nearby exploded. Cry loudly!

Hoffa frowned, what a strong magical fluctuation. Although he hasn't been exposed to magic yet, he can feel the terrifying talent in the other party only by instinct.

Hoffa's face was pale, but he didn't retreat at all. He was just an ordinary person in his previous life. But he is also an ordinary person with his own persistence. Not to mention that this person is doomed to fail, even if he succeeds, Hoffa will never shake the opponent's hand.

Withdraw the palm.

The light bulbs on the ceiling returned to normal.

Mrs. Cole ran into the hall in a panic and comforted the crying child.

At this moment, Tom has returned to his normal state.

"I'll look at you, Hoffa." He said lightly, turned and left.

He said it calmly, but the killing intent was undisguised and naked.

Hoffa snorted softly, shook his head, and dropped a piece of bacon left on the dinner plate into his mouth.

Offending the Dark Lord on the first day of rebirth, what a terrible death! !

To be honest, Hoffa doesn't like to offend people. His traditional oriental education in his previous life taught him the importance of keeping a low profile. But it is precisely because of this that he can't wait to separate himself from Voldemort.

Standing in the team and making a fortune silently is the kingly way, like him with huge ambitions, unabashedly against the world.

Even if the talent is 100 times stronger, it will still be the result of being killed, even if there is no Harry Potter.

Thinking of this, Hoffa couldn't help shivering again.

While Voldemort was doomed, he didn't want to be a casualty of a wizarding war.

This is not the time when Harry was born, and his father was not born yet. There is no way for him to use the protagonist's halo to follow the savior. Not to mention understanding historical trends, picking up leaks everywhere.

What Philosopher's Stone, what Chamber of Secrets, what Prisoner of Azkaban, those are all half a century later...

Now my eyes are darkened.

The road ahead is chaotic.