The elf was pushed forward, but his desperate eyes were still staring at the stains on Hoffa's body: "The savages are also going to evolve."

Miranda: "He can't evolve, don't yell, primitive people can't understand English."

The elf is desperate: "Real or false..."

After sending away the house elf, Miranda returned to the cloakroom with a smile, "Come in quickly, do you want me to help you?"

Hoffa rolled his eyes, changed his shoes and walked into the living room.

He had been to another friend's house, and he still remembered that he was shocked by the amazing castle. However, Miranda's house was relatively ordinary, similar to that of ordinary working-class people.

The square living room is about 60 square meters, without many decorations. There are a few rows of knitted cushions on the simple European-style sofa, and the fireplace is burning apple wood. It is very quiet. The dining room is slightly smaller than the kitchen, and the lacquered wood table floats

There were several magic chandeliers, and there was a pot of blue hydrangea under the chandelier. It seemed that they did not often entertain, and there were only four chairs.

In the kitchen, the house elf was busy picking at the cabinets, looking at Hoffa from time to time, his ears twitching.

"My elf, Adebe brought him from his hometown," Miranda said helplessly, holding the back of her chair and sitting at the dining table, "Aside from being mysophobic and a little nervous, everything else is fine.

"

"The servant will be very much like the master." Hoffa looked at the elf's busy back and said with a smile: "Where's your brother, how is he doing lately?"

"You want to see him?" Miranda smiled and reached for her glasses, "Didn't you take off my glasses in the car?"

"Okay," Hoffa raised his fingers provocatively: "Come, let me meet little Miller and see if he has made any progress."

Miranda curled her lips and pushed up her glasses: "Come on, if you live for a long time, you will naturally be able to see him. For now, forget it."

At this time, the house elf came to the living room with a cup of tea and a cup of coffee. One cup was placed in front of Miranda, and the other was placed half a meter away from Hoffa.

"Thanks."

Hoffa took the tea and chatted with a friend he hadn't seen for a long time, "I remember, your family doesn't live in...that county?"

"Devon." Miranda took a sip of coffee: "Adebe is serving at the Ministry of Magic this year, and he rented an apartment nearby. When his term is over, we will have to move back."

After a pause, she added: "But his term is over and I have graduated. I can consider renewing the lease for a few more years. The environment here is actually not bad."

"That's not the case,"

Hoffa stood at the window and looked into the distance. He could see the bright lights in Downing Street in the distance, which is the residence of the current British Prime Minister Churchill.

Lower the curtains.

"If you ask me, you can buy this house. There are wars going on now and land prices are cheap. In a few years, the land will be so high that your grandson won't have to worry about food."

"Are you so sure that we can win? This place was bombed by Germany a month ago, and even the Muggle Prime Minister's official residence was completely destroyed."

"No, I'm still quite optimistic. If I were you, I would buy everything around here while others are not optimistic about it."

Hoffa said, suddenly feeling that his expression was very Mance-like. He touched his nose in embarrassment.

"To put it lightly, I don't have that much money."

Miranda sat at the dining table, looked at Hoffa with her chin and said with a smile: "Even during the war, the land price here was more than five hundred gold galleons per square meter. If we really won, I am afraid that after ten years of working, we would not be able to win even if we win."

I can’t even afford the attic of this house.”

"So true."

Hoffa laughed like a pig, which is really the same in all eras.

Miranda: "It's you, have you made any money outside this year? You can't really make a living by picking up garbage every day, right?"

"It's up to you to take care of it." Hoffa held the tea cup and rolled his eyes angrily.

Miranda: "Of course I have to take care of it. You came out so many years before me. If I have no food after graduation, I can ask you to borrow money."

Hoffa: "Do you think I look like a rich man in my shabby clothes?"

Miranda laughed so hard that she stopped laughing and took a sip of coffee: "Why, you sent the granddaughter of the richest alchemist in history back from dangerous France, and they didn't reward you with tens of thousands of gold galleons?"

Hoffa was stunned, and the smile on his face slowly disappeared, "How do you know so much?"

Miranda seemed a little embarrassed. Under Hoffa's gaze, she raised the cup and drank for a long time. When she put it down, her expression was as usual. "Forget it, you must be exhausted if you don't say all these things. I will take you there."

Look at your room."

She put down her coffee cup and walked up the stairs. The house elf in the kitchen seemed to have been waiting for this moment. After Hoffa went upstairs, she held the broom and chased after Hoffa in her slippers.

Go up.

The second floor is warmer than the first floor. Maybe Miranda stays here a lot and takes care of it more. The four rooms surround a circular corridor. Bird-shaped wind chimes are hung every few meters in the corridor. In the middle of the corridor is a place for reading.

In the lounge, there was an open spell book in the middle of the lounge, which was thicker than Hoffa's head.

Pushing open a door, Miranda said: "You can stay here as long as you want, just treat it as your own home."

"Okay, let's do it."

He glanced at the neat guest room, which seemed a little uninterested. There were neat gray sheets, neat gray quilt covers, a clean radio and a desk. Even the pickiest hotel sleep tester couldn't fault it.

But after experiencing so many strange adventures and strange scenes, he lost interest in this kind of daily residence.

If there weren't ten killers hiding under the bed, I might not be able to sleep comfortably, he thought, feeling that he was such a bitch.

At this time, the room next door with the English name Miranda attracted his attention. Hoffa took a look inside and felt strangely itchy.

"You want to come into my room and take a look?" Miranda asked with a smile.

"That's not true," Hoffa said honestly.

"I'm not familiar with you." Miranda said with a smile.

"Don't be unfamiliar, we lived in the same room when we were in second grade." Hoffa joked.

"How old was that? I was only 12 years old at that time." Miranda stuck out her tongue and made a face, but still opened the room for him.

The room was much more solemn than Hoffa had imagined. The color scheme was only black and white, with black sheets, white walls, a black desk, and white chairs. Nailed on the wall were several manuscripts marked with human anatomy, as well as photos of herself, which she was not sure about.

Is that photo hers or Miller's, because she is not wearing glasses in the photo. Other than that, there is nothing else, not even as much stuff as the guest room just now.

"Disappointed?" Miranda smiled.

"Very good, very personal." Hoffa said noncommittally, "Why, you didn't collect a clipping book about me. It's full of clippings from newspapers and all kinds of news about my adventures outside.

..."

Miranda was stunned for a second, then laughed angrily, and stabbed him in the chest with her elbow: "Pull you down, you are so shameless, and you even cut the book. Are you too narcissistic or am I too perverted?"

"Perhaps they are all there. Are they hidden in the drawer?"

"Go, go, get out."

"Haha~"

Hoffa dodged an elbow, dodged his friend's fist, and ran toward Miranda's desk with a smile.

"Okay, okay, you search, you search, if you find a newspaper, I lose." Miranda couldn't help it, and said disdainfully behind him with her hands on her hips.

"Hmph, don't talk nonsense. Under my electric eyes, even if you use the concealment spell..."

The words stopped suddenly, and he saw a photo on Miranda's desk, which should have been taken at the end of the second grade. There were three people in the photo, the one in the middle was himself lying on the hospital bed, a girl on the left was pressing his head, and a girl on the right was holding his head.

Another girl was happily holding a bottle and pouring a medicine into his mouth.
Chapter completed!