Harry Potter-Approaching the Magic World Chapter 868

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Harry is bleeding.

He squeezed the right hand with his left hand, cursed silently, and pushed open the bedroom door with his shoulder.

Suddenly there was a creak of broken porcelain under his feet: because he didn't see a cup of herbal tea on the ground outside his bedroom door, he stepped on it.

"Why—?"

Harry looked around, there was no one on the landing.

This cup of tea is probably Dudley's own cleverness, and he wants to make a prank for him.

Harry held up his bleeding hand, picked up the fragment of the teacup with his other hand, and threw it into the full trash can behind the bedroom door.

Then he walked across the room into the bathroom and put his fingers under the faucet to rinse.

There are still four days to be unable to use magic. This is really stupid, unreasonable, and irritating...

But he has to admit that this deep wound on his finger must have caused He can't handle it.

He never learned how to repair wounds, and now he wants to come-especially thinking of his next plan-this seems to be a serious flaw in his magic education.

While he secretly decided to ask Hermione about this next time, he took a large bundle of toilet paper to wipe the tea stains on the floor as much as possible, then returned to the bedroom and closed the door heavily.

In the morning, Harry completely emptied the box he used to go to school, this was the first time he had boxed it six years ago.

Every time before school started, he would replace and update three-quarters of the contents on the box. There was always a mess of debris on the bottom of the box-old quill, withered beetle eyes, Unmatched socks that have long been worn.

A few minutes ago, Harry reached into this layer of debris, and the ring finger of his right hand suddenly felt a sharp pain. After taking it out, he was bleeding.

Now his actions are more cautious.

He knelt next to the box again, fumbled carefully at the bottom of the box, and took out a worn-out badge, which flashed alternately with the faint words supporting Cedric · Diggory and Potter;

Then he took out a dilapidated and cracked sight glass and a golden locket. There was a note signed RAB hidden in the box, and finally he found the sharp blade that scratched his finger.

He recognized it immediately. It was a fragment of the magic mirror given to him by Sirius. It was two inches long.

Harry put it aside, cautiously looking for other fragments in the box, but Godfather’s last gift was only a few shards of glass, glued to the bottom of the box, like a sparkle Of coarse sand.

Harry straightened up and looked carefully at the jagged fragment that scratched his finger. Only his bright green eyes were visible in it.

He put the broken lens on the bed on the "Daily Prophet" that had just been delivered in the morning and hadn't watched it. He turned around to deal with the remaining garbage in the box, trying to curb the sudden rise in the The painful memories of mind, those heart-wrenching regrets and longings caused by broken lenses.

It took him another hour to completely empty the box, throw away the useless things, and divide the rest into piles according to whether they need to be in the future.

Learn the head robe, Quidditch team robe, cauldron, parchment, quill and most of the textbooks are piled in a corner and stay at home.

I don't know how my aunt and uncle dealt with them, maybe they were burned in the middle of the night, as if they were evidence of some heinous crime.

His muggle clothes, Invisibility Cloak, potion preparation utensils, a few books, as well as the photo album, a stack of letters and wand that Hagrid previously gave him were put in an old backpack .

The front pocket of the backpack is stuffed with Marauder's Map and a gold locket with RAB signature notes.

The locket is placed in such an important position not because of how precious it is—in common sense, it is worthless—but because of the price paid for it.

Or rather, because of Dumbledore.

He used to think he knew Dumbledore very well, but at the same time he had to admit that he knew almost nothing about Dumbledore.

He had never imagined Dumbledore's childhood and youth. It seemed that Dumbledore suddenly became the way Harry knew him, young Gao Deshao with silver hair and beard.

Thinking of Dumbledore in his teenage years always makes people feel weird, like imagining a Hermione with a dull mind, or a Blast-Ended Skrewt who is friendly to others.

He never wanted to ask about Dumbledore's past.

—It would seem a bit awkward and even presumptuous to do so, but Dumbledore participated in the Legendary duel with Grindelwald—this is a well-known fact, and Harry did not expect to ask Dumbledore at the time. He did not ask him about his other famous achievements.

They are always talking about Harry’s things, including Harry’s past, Harry’s future, Harry’s plans...

And now Harry feels that even though his future is indeed dangerous lurks On every side, the future is uncertain, but the opportunity he lost is irretrievable: he did not ask Dumbledore more about himself, and the only one after another personal question he asked the headmaster was the only one he suspected Dumbledore Questions not answered honestly:

"What did you see when you looked in the magic mirror?"

"Me? I saw myself holding a pair of thick woolen socks. "

Harry pondered for a few minutes, tore the obituary from "Daily Prophet", folded it carefully, and sandwiched it in the first book of "Practical Defense Magic and Its Restraint to Dark Magic".

He threw the remaining newspapers on the garbage dump and turned to look at the room.

The room is much cleaner, and the only thing that is out of place is the day’s "Daily Prophet", which is still lying on the bed, with the broken lens pressed on it.

Harry walked over, shakes the broken lens off the day's "Daily Prophet", and then unfolded the newspaper.

In the morning, he took the rolled-up newspaper from the Owl postman, glanced at the headline, and found that there was no news about Voldemort, so he threw it aside.

Harry believes that the Ministry of Magic put pressure on "Daily Prophet" to block news about Voldemort.

Only then did he realize that he had missed something.

A new report.

About Dumbledore, Rita Skeeter’s interview, obviously there is a lot of fabricated content, but no one cares about this, Voldemort brings too much pressure to everyone, everyone Want to find an opportunity to relax.

Dumbledore’s anecdotes may not be the best choice, but it must be a good choice.

It's just that Harry is in a bad mood, but no one cares what he thinks.

In this brief moment, he began to miss Dumbledore very much, because Dumbledore was always so kind and tireless, much better than the people he faced now.

This is really a helpless thing. He looked at the lens inside and suddenly heard a muffled noise.

The sound of the front door being heavily closed came upstairs, and a person shouted: "Hey! You!"

Harry has been yelled and drunk like this for 16 years, he knows The uncle was calling someone, but he didn't answer immediately.

He was still staring at the broken lens. Just now in an instant, he saw Dumbledore's eyes in a trance.

It wasn’t until his uncle roared "Boy!" that Harry slowly stood up, walked towards the bedroom door, stopped halfway and stuffed the broken lens into the backpack, which was already full of what he planned to do. Something to take away.

"What are you rubbing against?" Vernon · Dursley saw Harry appear at the top of the stairs, and panting with rage yelled, "Quickly come down, I have something to say!"

Harry Putting his hands in the pockets of his jeans, he slowly walked down the stairs.

He came to the living room and found that the Dursley family were all three, all dressed for a long distance: Uncle Vernon was wearing a fawn zipper jacket, and Aunt Petunia was wearing a simple, shallow orange Top, Harry's big, yellow-haired, muscular cousin Dudley, wore a leather jacket.

"Is there something?"

"Sit down!" Uncle Vernon ordered, which made Harry raise his eyebrows.

"Please!" Uncle Vernon hurriedly asked for help, frowned, as if the word pierced his throat.

Harry basically guessed what it was.

When the uncle began to walk around the room, Aunt Petunia and Dudley followed his uncle with their eyes, showing a worried look, he thought of it.

But he did not speak, just waiting for the other person to speak.

Finally, Vernon stopped in front of Harry, his big purple face crumpled, and he spoke.

"I changed my mind."

"It's amazing."

Harry controlled himself without rolling his eyes, but obviously his tone was not very good.

"Do not use that tone—"

Aunt Petunia screamed, and Uncle Vernon waved her to shut her mouth.

"It's all lie," Uncle Vernon stared at Harry with a pair of Pigwidgeon eyes: "I decided not to believe a word. We won't go, we won't go anywhere."

Harry looked up at his uncle, annoyed and funny.

In the past four weeks, Vernon Dursley had to change his mind every twenty-four hours. Every time he changed his mind, he had to toss about it. Then put it in the car.

Harry thinks the cutest thing is that Uncle Vernon wanted to re-lift the luggage into the trunk of the car, but didn’t know that Dudley put dumbbells into the luggage this time, and fell to the ground. Pain, yelling.

"According to you," Vernon Dursley said at this moment, pacing again in the living room: "We—Petunia, Dudley, and I—are in danger. The danger comes from— —From—"

"Some people in'our kind', yes."

"hmph, I don't believe it," Uncle Vernon said again, again Stopped in front of Harry: "I didn't sleep in the middle of the night, thinking about this, it must be a conspiracy, I want to occupy the house."

"House?" Harry asked, "What house?"

"This house!" Uncle Vernon screamed, and the blood vessels on his forehead began to beat tú tú: "Our house! House prices around here are soaring!

You want Take us away and do some tricks. Before we understand it, the name on the deed will become yours—"

"Are you confused?" Harry asked, "Plotting to occupy this The house? Are you really as stupid as you are?"

"How dare you—!"

Aunt Petunia screamed, and Vernon waved her again Mouth, it seems that compared with the danger he has seen, it can't be considered if his appearance has been insulted.

"I'm afraid you forgot," Harry said, "I already have a house, which I left to me by godfather. What do I want this house for? For all those happy past events?"

Silence.

Harry thought his uncle was quelled by this remark, so he didn't go on.

"You claim," Uncle Vernon said, and started pacing again: "This Demon King—"

"—Voldemort," Harry said impatiently, "This one We’ve discussed this a hundred times. It’s not a claim, it’s a fact. Dumbledore told you last year, Kingsley and Mr. Weasley—"

Vernon · Dursley panting with rage, arching his shoulders, Harry I guess my uncle wanted to get rid of that memory.

Just a few days after Harry's summer vacation, two adult wizards came to visit suddenly.

Kingsley · Shacklebolt and Arthur · Weasley appeared at the door, bringing the Dursley family a very unpleasant shock.

Harry had to admit that Mr. Weasley once smashed half of the living room into ruins, and his reappearance would certainly not please Uncle Vernon.

"——Kingsley and Mr. Weasley also explained," Harry remained unmoved and continued: "As soon as I turn seventeen, the spell to protect my safety will be lifted, and you and I will Exposure.

Order of the Phoenix believes that Voldemort will target you, or torture you, torture my whereabouts, or think that I will take you hostages and I will rush to rescue."

Uncle Vernon and Harry's eyes met.

At this moment, Harry believed that the same question arose in both of them.

Then Uncle Vernon started pacing again, and Harry continued: "You must hide. Order of the Phoenix is ​​willing to help and provide you with the best and tightest protection."

Uncle Vernon said nothing, and continued to pace around.

Outside, the sun was hanging low over the privet hedge, and the lawnmower of the neighbor next door went out again.

"Isn't there a Ministry of Magic?"

"Not bad."

"Then, why can't they protect us?

In my opinion, as innocent victims, we have done nothing bad except for adopting a suspect, and we deserve the protection of the government!"

Harry laughed out loud.

He couldn't help but laugh, his uncle was like that, always pinning his hopes on the authority, even in the world that he hates and distrusts.

"You heard what Mr. Weasley and Kingsley said," Harry replied, "We think Ministry of Magic has mixed in the bad guys."

Uncle Vernon strode to the fireplace Back again, panting heavily, the thick black horoscope also fluctuates, and his big face still swells into purple-red.

"Well," he stopped in front of Harry again: "Well, tentatively speaking, we accept this protection, but I still don't understand why we can't let the big Kingsley protect us."

Harry tried his best to endure it, and didn't turn his eyes, because this question had already been raised six or seven times.

"I told you," Harry gritted his teeth and said, "Kingsley is protecting hemp-I mean your prime minister."

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