On the suspension bridge on top of a cargo ship at the dock, Hoffa let go of Miranda's wrist.

Miranda turned her head away from him: "Sorry, I lost my temper." She said calmly, without any trace of embarrassment on her face.

"I'm sorry for not contacting you, but it was out of necessity." Hoffa said sincerely: "I have made too many enemies, and each of those people is more and more crazier than the last."

"Excuse." Miranda's lips quivered.

"You are my best friend, I can't..." He sighed and shook his head: "You don't understand, fate is unpredictable."

Miranda closed her eyes. When she opened them again, the lines on her face had softened. She grabbed Hoffa's wrist: "If this is really the case, do you think I will be afraid? Or do you think I am not strong enough and will drag you down?"

Hind legs?

"You are not afraid of me. I will not take any risks, so no matter what you say, it is useless." Hoffa looked at the flashing lighthouse in the distance: "I will definitely leave the UK."

Miranda stopped talking and lowered her head.

Hoffa saw her looking a little sad, and felt very painful in his heart. He hadn't seen her for a year, and they were about to break up when they met. The helplessness of the war years cannot be explained to outsiders.

He touched Miranda's chestnut hair and said with a smile: "Don't always talk about me. You haven't told me why you are in London."

"My grandpa is back." Miranda shook his hand away and said calmly.

Hoffa raised his eyebrows and said in surprise: "Professor Adebe is back?"

"Yes, he was transferred to the Ministry of Magic this year to take up the post of Director of the Defense Against the Dark Arts Department," Miranda said expressionlessly: "He also arranged for me to be an intern in London. I patrolled every corner of London every day, saying he was catching dark wizards.

, but most of the time we only catch the thief.”

"That's not bad."

"Really?"

Miranda raised her head noncommittally, exhaled a cloud of white mist in the cold night sky, and shook her head: "Most of the tasks of other Ravenclaws are heavier than mine, but the one I envy the most is still you.

You are freer than me."

I have people who are envious of me, damn it. Hoffa thought to himself, if he had chosen someone with poor mental endurance due to his experience, he would probably have gone crazy.

"Forget it, if you really want to leave, I won't keep you, but at least you can leave after Christmas," she suggested again: "There are only a few days left. If you don't go to school, just go to my house.

It’s just me and grandpa.”

"After Christmas..."

Hoffa looked at the lights flickering on the other side of the Thames and fell into deep thought. Noble's invitation was indeed not urgent for a day or two. If he could go to Miranda's house and write him a few letters with an owl, he would still be sure.

A specific location, maybe that would save trouble.

After weighing the trade-offs, Hoffa nodded: "Okay, I promise you, I will spend Christmas with you."

A smile appeared on Miranda's face, and she handed her hand to Hoffa: "Take me down, I can't disapparate for the time being."

"As you wish, Miss Gorshak."

Hoffa bowed exaggeratedly, took her hand, lifted her up horizontally, and then jumped directly from the suspension bridge hundreds of meters to the ground. At night, this height was about the same as three steps for him.

"You can do it!" After landing, Miranda looked at the height, recovered from the weightless state, and pushed him: "Hey, don't hold me like this, I'm not familiar with you anymore."

Hoffa laughed. After making the decision to spend Christmas with friends in the UK, he felt inexplicably better. He let go of Miranda and asked: "How are you going to take me back, Gorshak?"

"Just wait and see, Bach, it must be something new that you haven't seen before." Miranda stretched her waist, turned her head and hit him on the head with a very cool head: "Follow me~"

When Hoffa covered his head and followed Miranda with an uncontrollable smile on his face, when he saw anyone outside, he felt that others were trying to plot against him, almost becoming a persecution delusion. Only He and

Only when old friends are together can he relax completely.

The two walked to the street, and he saw a Royal Enfield motorcycle painted black parked near the fire hydrant on the corner, with a side-valve single-cylinder, black seats, round and bright lights, and

The ears are painted silver and look quite British.

"I thought you were coming here on a broomstick."

The moment he saw the vehicle, Hoffa laughed out loud, "I haven't seen you become so punk in a year?"

"Ah, what punk?"

Miranda looked at him confused.

"Forget it," Hoffa waved his hand, "just pretend I didn't say anything."

He just thought that punk was something decades later. Miranda definitely didn't know about it, but the changes in this girl during the period of not seeing each other for a year really surprised him. Not only did she learn how to put on makeup, she even learned how to ride a motorcycle.

The cars will all be running.

Miranda got on the motorcycle, stepped on the accelerator, then took out two motorcycle hats from the motorcycle compartment, put one on herself, and handed the other to Hoffa.

Hoffa speechlessly took the retro-looking motorcycle hat with windproof glasses, put it on his head, and sat behind Miranda.

Then, the motorcycle turned on its orange lights and made a pleasant vibration, and the two of them started speeding through the streets of London.

The wind blew past Hoffa's ears, and the iron buckle of the motorcycle hat kept slapping his cheek. The speed of the car was not very fast, only about sixty miles, and Miranda didn't look like the kind of person who drove fast to find someone.

Exciting person. However, looking at the buildings and cars passing by, Hoffa suddenly couldn't help laughing, and the more he laughed, the happier he became.

"why are you laughing?"

Miranda, who was driving a motorcycle, asked in confusion.

"Hahaha......"

Hoffa didn't answer, he just kept laughing behind her. In fact, he didn't know why he was laughing, but he wanted to laugh very much at the moment.

"What are you laughing at!?"

Miranda, who was driving, asked with a speechless smile.

"Ha ha ha ha....."

"Ha ha ha ha....."

"Ha ha ha ha....."

In the end, he laughed until Miranda was a little annoyed. She turned the car's head violently and narrowly missed a black Jaguar, almost knocking off someone else's ear.

"Are you a fool?" Miranda hit Hoffa's motorcycle hat with the back of her head: "Don't laugh!"

"Hahahahaha...!"

Hoffa laughed louder and louder, and even reached out to scratch her armpits. After scratching, he reached forward and took off her glasses while she was struggling.

"You are crazy!!"

The motorcycle swerved left and right without any rules on the street, mixed with the girl's angry roar, attracting the side glances of countless passers-by.

Finally, when the motorcycle stopped under an apartment building near Downing Street and Big Ben, Miranda got off the motorcycle angrily like a drunkard. She ripped off Hoffa's motorcycle hat and was annoyed.

Kicked him in the calf.

"Go out and ruin your brain!" she accused angrily.

Hoffa had never seen this kind of expression on Miranda's face. In the past, when they were together, she would only come up with some dark ideas or immerse herself in reading a book and ignore anyone.

"Who did you learn to drive from? Did you get a gangster boyfriend one year when I was away?" Hoffa couldn't help but laugh, sitting on the back stand of the car and asked.

"No, not just one, but a dozen, one every month!" She looked at Hoffa angrily, took out a bunch of keys from her pocket, "Follow me."

They got off the motorcycle and walked towards a nearby row of old-fashioned apartment buildings, stopping in front of a row of brown wooden doors covered with spider plants and pothos similar to those at 221b Baker Street.

"Is Professor Gorshak at home?"

Hoffa looked at the 24-hour convenience store on the roadside and figured that if he wanted to see his old dean, he would have to buy some fruit.

"Don't bother," through Hoffa's eyes, Miranda could see through his thoughts at a glance: "He has been working overtime these days and will not be able to come back until Christmas Eve."

"So late!?" Hoffa was shocked.

"Don't worry about him." Miranda opened the door with the key: "There are three secretaries in the ministry at his disposal."

Opening the door, Miranda turned on the hallway light, and while getting Hoffa's shoes, she shouted: "Petty."

Almost as soon as she finished her voice, a pair of pink slippers ran over from a distance. On the pink slippers were a pair of thighs that were only as thick as Hoffa's wrists.

"Oh, my lady has a friend here."

A neatly dressed but nervous house elf in a maid skirt. It rushed to Miranda, snatched the slippers from her hand like a whirlwind, and placed it in front of Hoffa. Then it looked up

, making a sound.

"ah!!"

Then he rushed back like a whirlwind. In the blink of an eye, he brought out several neatly folded rags. His eyes were as wide as bells, staring at Hoffa's clothes as if he were facing a formidable enemy.

"Are you bothering me, sir? If it's not troublesome, you can ask Petty to wipe it for you first. It'll be over soon!"

She spoke quickly, politely but firmly.

Hoffa stood at the door, embarrassed.

"Don't bother, Patty, he is a savage and is used to it. Go and make him a cup of tea." Miranda took the rag from the house elf and pushed it to the kitchen: "Green tea is fine, use oriental tea."

.”

"Ah! Savage! This is the twentieth century!"
To be continued...