I, Hogwarts Week Two

Chapter 542 I hate you, all of you!
"These are letters and photos about your mother and father. During that difficult time, Sirius was busy with the Order of the Phoenix, so many of the letters and photos were lost. After so many years, only a part of them has been found now." Roy explained, "Some were collected by Mr. Dumbledore and rescued from your home, the old house in Godric's Hollow. You should know that there was a big fire that day. So there are not many things left."

"This is your coming-of-age present, Harry." Roy patted Harry's head and said sadly. "Congratulations, you're seventeen. Happy birthday."

Roy was sad because she saw the shadow of her sister, Owen's mother, in Harry.

Compared to Lily Evans.

Gabrielle's fate was even more tragic. She died on the night Owen was born. The house she stayed in was also a random Muggle house that she broke into. There was no remains left.

She didn't even keep many photos. The few she had were taken hastily during her escape.

Used a Muggle camera.

So much so that now, she can no longer remember what her sister looked like when she walked.

"Thank you--" Harry was overjoyed and carefully flipped through the photo album in front of him.

Roy didn't say anything else, but looked at him calmly.

On the other side, the Dursleys finally loaded all their stuff into the car.

Vernon stood at the street corner, looking at Harry, who was holding a book and reading seriously, not paying any attention to them, and a trace of resentment suddenly welled up in his heart.

Then he said loudly: "Humph - goodbye now, kid."

"Are you ready, Dada?" Aunt Petunia asked at the door. While questioning her son, she checked the clasp of her handbag for fun, but her eyes were always looking in Harry's direction - actually she was looking more at the photo album in his hand.

Dudley didn't answer, he just stood there with his mouth slightly open.

"Let's go," Uncle Vernon called out from the front of the car.

He had already opened the car door when he heard Dudley mutter, "I don't understand."

"What's there to not understand, baby?" Aunt Petunia hurriedly looked away and asked her son.

Dudley raised a fat ham-like finger and pointed at Harry.

"Why doesn't he come with us?"

At the front of the street, Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia stood there in a daze, staring at Dudley blankly, as if Dudley had just expressed his desire to be a ballerina.

"What?" Uncle Vernon shouted.

“Why doesn’t he come with us?” Dudley asked.

"Oh, he - he doesn't want to go," said Uncle Vernon. He turned and glared at Harry, who was standing in the doorway. "You don't want to go, do you?"

"Not at all." Harry closed the album and looked up.

"That's all," Uncle Vernon said to Dudley. "Well, let's go."

Uncle Vernon got into the car.

Dudley seemed to be struggling with some unexpressible thought. After a moment of seemingly painful internal struggle, he said, "I know what you're doing."

"Oh?" Harry held the photo album to his chest and said without interest.

"You're a hero, Harry." Dudley's face flushed, and memories of the past came churning. It was a summer vacation a few years ago, when he and Harry encountered a Dementor in the suburbs far away from London.

Harry defeated his opponent easily. It was not a difficult task. Most of the young wizards in Hogwarts could do it, so he never mentioned it to Ron and the others.

But for Dudley, Harry saved his life.

"Oh yeah. Thank you, Dudley."

He looked at his cousin curiously. They had hardly any contact this summer and last summer. Harry's time back at Privet Drive was short. Since Sirius came back, he would only stay for a month before leaving.

It was only then that Harry vaguely realized that the cup of cold tea he kicked might not be a prank at all. Although he was very touched, he still felt relieved to see that Dudley's ability to express his emotions seemed to have been exhausted.

They had been staring at each other for too long.

Even if they reconcile now, they will only become strangers from enemies. If they want to be as harmonious as ordinary brothers, I am afraid it will never be possible in this lifetime.

"Okay Dudley. Let's go." Aunt Petunia forced a smile, walked over, patted Dudley on the shoulder, and tried to half push him away.

But at this moment, she suddenly noticed that there seemed to be a photo left at Dudley's feet.

I think it must have accidentally fallen from the album in Harry's hand.

She just took a look.

Then I couldn't take my eyes away anymore.

It was a photo of two girls.

One has long fiery red hair, and the other has short light blonde hair. The blonde girl seemed reluctant to take the photo, as she was staring at the other girl viciously in the photo.

hum-

Aunt Petunia's mind went blank.

The invisible thoughts were no longer under control and rushed backwards.

Let’s go back to the summer vacation of 1977.

She remembered that her abnormal sister suddenly had the urge to take a photo with her one day.

I heard that in photos from the magical world, the characters are all moving.

She didn't like that world and didn't want to have anything to do with them.

I don't want to go at all.

But her parents were very interested in it.

She was forced to take two photos unwillingly along with her abnormal sister.

One for my sister and one for her.

However, when she got home and found that the figure in her picture really moved, she tore up her own picture.

I was even scolded by my mother for this.

But in the end, her sister used her "magic magic" to restore the photo, which calmed her mother down.

Although she was reluctant, she did not tear up the photo and kept it.

Later, after she married Vernon, she decided to be a Dursley and avoid talking to anyone about her sister.

Although in her heart, she more or less felt some guilt about severing ties with her sister.

Because she knew in her heart that Lily had always loved her.

But she just didn't want to admit it, didn't want to admit her resentment and jealousy, didn't want to admit that her sister was far better than her, didn't want to admit magic and anything related to it.

Until October 1981, 10.

Penny woke up early that morning.

Her son was just over a year old, and she had to get up early to feed him.

The life of a housewife is very boring. Whenever she has free time, her thoughts will drift away.

Perhaps only at this moment did she truly live, live as Penny Evans.

The morning sun, like a painter, quietly spreads her brushstrokes in every corner of the room. The sun reveals half of its face, letting the golden light pass through the gaps in the curtains, falling like a thread, coating the edge of the room with a layer of light golden light.

Suddenly a cry interrupted her thoughts.

It was the cry of her son.

While taking Dudley out of the stroller, she suddenly remembered that her sister was married, and that she had sent her a letter in July, saying that her son was born.

She remembered the photo she had kept for many years.

But that morning, when she finally found the photo in the bottom box of the closet, she found that the photo had been torn in two, and the originally laughing figure could no longer move.

That day was the day Lily died.

"Give it back to me," Harry said flatly.

Aunt Petunia seemed not to hear anything. She just stared blankly at the photo in her hand.

It seemed as if something was coming out of her eye sockets.

"Give it back to me," Harry repeated. Although he didn't see who was in the photo, the one that fell out of the album was his.

"No me," Aunt Petunia said in a trembling voice, her eyes still fixed on the picture in her hand.

Harry had never seen Aunt Petunia's eyes like that. Guilt, unwillingness, remorse, anger. All kinds of emotions kept surging in her eyes.

It's like a thick pot of soup.

"Aunt?" Harry took a step back. Petunia now felt strange to him.

"Shhh..." Roy stretched out his hand and stood in front of Harry. Because of her position, she saw the image in the photo.

Realized something.

Dudley froze in place, staring blankly at his mother, totally confused as to what was going on.

Just like that, there was silence for about ten seconds.

Aunt Petunia finally recovered from her grief.

She murmured, "Are you going to die too?"

"What?" Harry responded, confused.

"This war! This damn war!" She suddenly became excited. "You will die too, right? Just like my stupid sister. Die quietly in the wilderness."

"Do you know why I hate you? Potter!"

"." Harry said nothing, just watched quietly.

"You thought, that night in Godric's Hollow, you just lost your mother?"

A feeling of sadness, the sadness that had been suppressed for more than ten years suddenly burst out.

She stared at Harry intently.

"You're just like your father who only knows how to show off."

"And that reckless and arrogant Blake!"

"And that damned kid from Cokeworth."

"You know what? Potter. I will never forgive you. Ever!!"

"It's the damn Potter family that killed my sister. It's magic that killed my sister." Aunt Petunia roared angrily. Harry was stunned by the roar and stood there stupidly.

"I hate you, you killed my sister!"

"You killed my sister!!!"

The roaring sound could be heard from far away.

Tears were streaming down her face.

Vernon was frightened in the car and got out in a panic. He had never seen his wife so sad before.

"Boy, what have you done?" He raised his fist to hit Harry.

But Roy just glanced at him, and that made him lose his temper.

Those cold blue eyes had an unspeakable terrifying suppressive power.

It was midsummer, but Harry suddenly felt a chill.

The chill did not come from Roy, but from someone else, Aunt Petunia in front of him.

In the sixteen years that he had lived with her, Harry had never heard any positive description of his mother from her mouth.

As a child, she mostly used crazy instead.

Later, when he learned the truth, she simply stopped mentioning it.

Harry never felt that Aunt Petunia had deep feelings for his mother. In his opinion, the two were not even sisters. Because Aunt Petunia never showed off, even the neighbors didn't know that she had a sister.

They were like strangers.

until today
But what Harry didn't understand, Roy understood.

Suddenly she remembered an old book.

The one that tells the story of a little prince from the stars.

She was ignorant at the time and thought it was just an interesting story no matter how many times her sister Gabrielle told it. It was not until many years later, especially after her sister Gabrielle passed away, that she understood it.

Come to think of it, Lily Evans is also a most unique little prince.

She waters people, she prays for people, and she protects people from wind and rain.

She is the most beautiful rose in the world.

She tamed countless people.

Only when others leave her will they realize that it is definitely a mistake.

She doesn't need anyone, on the contrary, those people need her.

Did you know that even the Slytherin snakes would come out of their burrows and bask in the sunlight, listening to her voice; listening to her unique footsteps; other people's footsteps would make the snakes hide underground, but hers were different, her footsteps were as beautiful as music.

From then on, the jasmine flower that was useless to me became precious.

Because it reminds me of her face full of joy.

The Dursleys all got in the car.

The sudden change seemed to have changed nothing.

Aunt Petunia remained the same even after her good cry.

But the look in his eyes when he looked at Harry became even more disgusted.

That look - it reminded Harry of Snape.

Snape has been looking at me like this since I entered Hogwarts, and it has been six years.

He didn't understand before, but now he understands a little bit. Snape hates him, even if he is Lily's child. In Snape's eyes, he is a disaster. Although it was Voldemort who did it, it was actually he who killed Lily. If his mother didn't have a child like him, Voldemort would not attack her.

Then everything might be different.

And his aunt might have had similar thoughts.

"Hoo—" Harry took a deep breath.

Roy patted his shoulder and left with the Dursleys.

all of a sudden.

Harry was the only one left in the empty house, and an inexplicable sadness was brewing in his heart.

He ran back to his bedroom and rushed to the window, just in time to see the Dursleys' car turn the driveway and onto the road. Roy seemed to be saying something in the back seat, while Aunt Petunia looked back at it.

Her eyes met Harry's through the glass and the street.

This time, Harry did not see disgust - he even saw his aunt muttering something - although he could not hear the sound, Harry knew that it was his name, and the following three words - to live.

Harry picked up Hedwig's cage, his Firebolt and backpack, and took a final look at the bedroom, which was abnormally tidy. With mixed emotions and a lot of random thoughts, he staggered downstairs to the living room.

People are so complicated - Harry thought.

He had no idea why Aunt Petunia had left him a message asking him to stay alive in the end.

Doesn't she hate herself?
Didn't she feel like she had killed her sister?
I can’t figure it out - so I just stop thinking about it.

Harry placed the birdcage, broom and backpack at the foot of the stairs.

The light quickly dimmed, and the living room was shadowed in the twilight, and there was silence all around.

Harry stood there, knowing that he was leaving this house forever, and it was a special feeling. Long ago, the Dursleys had gone out; leaving him alone in the house, and those few hours of solitude were a rare treat; a quick steal of something good from the fridge, then a dash upstairs to Dudley's computer, his PlayStation, or to turn on the TV and choose whatever channel he wanted.

Thinking of those times, he felt an inexplicable melancholy in his heart, as if he was thinking of a little brother he had lost.

"Don't you want to take one last look around this place?" he asked Hedwig suddenly. The owl ignored him and had its head tucked under its wing, sulking because Harry hadn't let it out to play all day.

And Harry went on to say, "We're never coming here again, don't you want to reminisce about all the happy times? I mean, look at this doormat, think about the past...

After I rescued Dudley from the Dementors, he threw up on this mat...

I didn't expect him to be grateful, can you believe it? And last summer, Dumbledore walked through that front door..."

Harry's train of thought was interrupted. Hedwig did not help him find it. It still hid its head under its wings and did not move.

Harry turned from the front door and took a few quick steps forward. "Down here, Hedwig..." He opened a door under the stairs, the long-lost door, "Right here, this is where I used to sleep! You didn't know me then! God, you were so young, I don't even remember it..."

Harry looked at the piles of shoes and umbrellas and remembered waking up every morning and looking up at the bottom of the stairs, where there would always be a spider or two hanging.

In those days, he still didn't know his true identity, he hadn't figured out how his parents died, and he didn't understand why strange things happened around him. Harry still remembered the dreams that haunted him: chaotic dreams, flashing green lights, and one time - when Harry talked about this dream, Uncle Vernon almost crashed his car - because he dreamed of a flying light motorcycle...

Harry looked at the small, dark cupboard with great emotion. He remembered how the dust would fall down on his head every time Dudley would stomp on the stairs above as a prank, wearing his taped eyes and baggy old clothes that Dudley had discarded.

Many stories happened here. Looking back now, it seems like a dream.

Vague and out of reach.

(End of this chapter)