The dance is in full swing at Hogwarts.

The wizard musicians are playing hard on the stage, and the piece they are playing is "Waltz No. 2" by Dmitrievich Shostakovich.

Accompanied by the elegant waltz, the Hogwarts warriors and their partners danced gracefully, and other students also poured into the dance floor, showing their charm in various ways along with the music.

On the edge of the dance floor, Miller, disguised as Moody, laughed exaggeratedly. He kicked his wooden legs and kept moving through the crowd with a beautiful Beauxbatons girl in his arms.

Everyone who saw him looked at him with kindness and understanding: "Nice dance, Professor Moody."

"Ron, you are a flatterer. Your father still knows that you are such a flatterer. He will probably wake up laughing in your dreams."

"The dress is beautiful, Professor Moody."

"Get out of here, I'm going to stuff your head in the a**, Fred."

"Very skillful gesture, Professor Moody."

"Go to hell, Cedric, I'm better at fucking your girlfriend."

"Professor Moody, tonight is a wonderful night."

"Yes, except that you all became puppets, idiots!"

...

Whenever someone spoke to him like this, Miller would laugh and nod, and use the most obscene insults to everyone. But they didn't listen to him, and instead faced him with more eager dancing and a more positive attitude.

"Miller...Miller can you hear...?"

A faint shout appeared in Miller's ears, and the voice was very low. He turned a deaf ear and began to dance crazily with his arms around the beautiful Beauxbatons student. They danced tango steps from one side of the auditorium to the other.

While dancing crazily, he asked the girl in his arms, "Do you believe that I will blow up this auditorium right away and no one will stop me?"

"Oh, your jokes are so funny."

The girl in his arms looked at him with dreamy eyes, which were no different from looking at his lover.

"Joke, do you want to hear a joke?"

Miller stepped on the tango, spinning the girl seven hundred and twenty degrees, and then pulled her into his arms.

"Of course, please tell me."

"I still remember that the last French girl I met was a Muggle car driver. Do you know about Muggle cars?"

"I know." The girl said eagerly, "My grandfather is a Muggle."

"Ha, that's so interesting. She came to London to visit me and her English was not good. When she drove to Regent Street, the road sign in front of her told her to turn left. She was not sure, so she asked me: "turn left?"

I said: "right" and she hit the fire hydrant on the right! Hahahaha~"

"You are really interesting. Even if you are French, your English is not that bad, right?" the girl said breathlessly. Because Miller's movements were so intense, fine drops of sweat had already appeared on the blonde girl's forehead.

Miller put his arms around the girl and came to the bar.

"Two glasses of brandy," he ordered without hesitation. Two glasses of strong liquor garnished with olives appeared in front of him.

"I don't drink." The Beauxbatons girl said in an ethereal voice.

"I didn't ask for your opinion, French bitch."

Miller raised his head and drank a large glass of brandy, then raised his head and drank another glass. He pressed his palms on the table and kept shaking.

"Are there really other French girls coming to hang out with you?"

"Don't look at me...I...burp...like this, I was very handsome when I was young. I also have a sister who is also a famous beauty. My sister's best friend is French.

"

Miller stared ahead, trying to find Dumbledore, but found no trace of the old wizard.

"Really or not?"

The French female student said suspiciously, "I don't think you have a sister."

"Hahahaha, guess."

Miller ordered another glass of strong drink, raised his head and drank it: "I once suffered from schizophrenia, but now we have recovered."

"Haha, you are so funny."

"Damn, I'm not kidding."

"Then your attending doctor must be very good."

Miller's expression was startled. Hoffa's body that kept dying seemed to appear in front of him again. He suddenly crushed the wine glass and pulled the girl back onto the dance floor.

...

...

boom!!

A Roman column in the Eternal Arena was smashed to pieces by a young man with gray hair and golden eyes. Under the toppled Roman column, a man covered in wounds fled in panic.

After a few steps of escaping, a blood-red shadow rushed out of the smoke. As he ran wildly, wings sprouted from his back, his lips were torn to the base of his ears, and they were filled with sharp teeth.

"Blood...!"

boom!!

Another blow that shook the ground.

A huge gap was blown out of the entire duel arena, and the ghosts of Nowhere were blown up into the sky by the force of the explosion. Faced with such huge destruction, Avada not only did not stop it, but instead danced excitedly on the balloon.

"Who is the real Hoffabach, the one who escaped?"

"no!!"

The ghost in the stands expressed denial.

"The one who chased?"

"yes!!"

Tens of thousands of ghosts expressed their affirmation.

"Hahahahaha~ You guys made me so confused, I don't know, I'm so confused, I'm so confused, Avada shook his head out of the phantom: "But if you think about it, you can definitely defeat the impostor, right? Yes?

Wrong!? Okay, okay, it’s just decided happily, whoever wins is the real one, hahahaha!!”

Avada's crazy voice and the ghost's screams made Hoffa upset, and the pursuit of the guy with his own body made him even more embarrassed.

He pressed his ears and ran away in embarrassment in the billowing smoke. Miller left a drop of blood on his head before he entered the underworld. He said that as long as he needed a spell, he could briefly contact him for an hour or so, and it really happened to him.

When the spell was needed most, the guy was silent.

"Miller, Miller, can you hear me!?"

He kept shouting, and suddenly, some mysterious spiritual link appeared on his forehead across space, and his body moved uncontrollably.

Hoffa was overjoyed. He thought Miller heard his cry, so he immediately stopped.

The moment he stopped, the Son of the Night God, who was wreaking havoc and pursuing, also stopped and stood a hundred meters away from him, looking at him with vigilant eyes.

"You actually have your own consciousness."

Hoffa said through gritted teeth.

"Blood....."

The body was hunched over like a beast, and its footsteps slowly turned along the sand.

"No more escaping, that man won't run away anymore!"

Avada knelt on the balloon, his neck stretched out from the edge of the balloon, and he said in a trembling tone: "Is Hoffabach going to face his own body? Face the body that was given to him by the night.

The blessed body, the body cursed by the day?”

The tens of thousands of ghosts in the stands also poked their heads out and became silent in a rare moment. Some ghosts even put their palms in their mouths, looking forward to Hoffa's desperate counterattack or being torn into pieces by wild beasts.

Hoffa slowly raised his arms and pointed straight ahead. He put his feet together, raised his right foot, put his toes close to the heel of his left foot, used his right toes as support, and slowly stood up on tiptoe.

"Oh woo~"

The ghosts all took a deep breath.

"Coming?"

"Is it coming!?"

Avada's eyes widened and he said ecstatically. The microphone in his hand even turned into an ultra-long telescope tens of meters long. He held the telescope tens of meters long in front of his eyes, which was very funny.

"Is it coming? How on earth is he going to defeat his own body?"

Hoffa turned around, pointed at the stands, and then touched his crotch. His legs were crossed and he was twisting on the sand. It seemed that he was moving forward, but in fact he was moving backward.

Avada held up the telescope and shouted in shock: "Look, what is he doing? Is that some mysterious spell-casting action?"

On the sand, Hoffa made a gorgeous spin and then waved his hands, as if he had smashed something. The entire Eternal Arena echoed with the figure of broken glass. His movements were as agile as a dragon coming out of the sea, full of the beauty of power, and like a milk swallow.

Walking through the forest, every gesture and gesture depicts a free and unrestrained painting.

"He's dancing!!"
To be continued...