The days at Hogwarts

……

Manhattan, New York.

There are a few thin clouds floating in the blue sky that has been washed by water. The scorching July sun makes the air hot. Central Park is like an emerald green gem embedded among the high-rise buildings in the city. The bustling city and the quiet park are at the same time. Street apart.

The chirping of various bugs and birds in the forest brings a bit of coolness. The lush olive color, the light and dark gray-green, and the intertwined yellow-brown branches. All kinds of tall trees that cannot be named stand in layers, with branches. Intertwined wantonly, like a green cloud blocking the scorching sun.

By the lake in the park, the water vapor is fresh.

Monica flipped through the New York Ghost newspaper from the past few days.

[The Werewolf Inferi Incident - The International Federation of Wizards is about to convene. What is the truth about the magic crisis? 】

[The first issue of the International Federation of Wizards: The liberated werewolves! 】

[Historian Damian will explain to you the first issue of the Federation: Disputes between great powers]

[Mian will explain to you the second issue of the Federation: the wisdom of human-like magical creatures]

……

[Surprise at the venue! Chairman Albus Dumbledore warned, the British Ministry of Magic refuted and clarified]

"The werewolf inferi incident mentioned above is the wizard's terrorist attack that you asked us to avoid?" Monica glanced at Hermione coldly, flipping the newspaper in her hand.

Wendell, who was not far away, was looking at the lake without looking back. He seemed to be concentrating on fishing, but he didn't even notice the fish floating.

Hermione lowered her head and carefully studied the grid pattern on her shoes. She muttered softly, "It was Loren who asked you to get out of the way. I just asked you and Dad to go to the next city to play for a few days."

Monica laughed angrily, slapped the newspaper on the picnic table, reached out and pinched the tip of Hermione's nose, and shook it: "What did you say?"

Hermione was in pain and shouted quickly: "Yes, that's right, this is the wizarding terrorist attack!"

"Are you in danger?"

"No." Hermione replied in a low voice. She tried to shake her head in denial to free herself from the clamped nose, but all she got was a sore tip of her nose.

The evil dentist often had to use great force to extract teeth, and his fingers and arms were so strong that she couldn't get out.

Hermione opened her mouth slightly to breathe, but fortunately she had already gotten over the problem, and her mother cared about her very much. Based on her understanding of her mother, she would not continue to dwell on this topic.

Hermione felt more relaxed.

"What did you have for lunch the day I called you?" Monica's indifferent voice floated faintly.

In the midsummer weather of July, a chill enveloped Hermione, making the little witch tremble with guilt.

"Lunch... lunch... lunch is burgers, beef patties, pickles -"

The soreness coming from the tip of her nose stopped Hermione's lies: "Sorry, Mom, it's a cheeseburger."

The voice was plaintive and helpless, sounding extremely pitiful.

Not far away, Wendell's shoulders were shaking, probably because he was laughing because of the fish that was hooked.

Monica let go of her daughter's nose, rubbed it for her, and softened her voice a little: "You will be punished to go back to do housework, clean the lawn, clean the room, and you are not allowed to use magic. Do you understand?"

"I know, Mom." Hermione replied aggrievedly, lying in her mother's arms for a while, and then slowly raised her head after a few minutes, "I, I have a question?"

Monica arranged her messy curly hair: "You say."

"Why do you believe Loren when he says so, but you don't believe when I say so."

Monica was silent for a while, and couldn't help pinching her nose again until it turned red.

On the other side, Loren and Grandpa Bates sat together, guarding the rented fishing rod and waiting for the fish to take the bait. Loren carefully recounted the known information about the werewolf inferi incident. Bates listened and read carefully. I bought a fishing license, but I couldn’t tell what I was thinking about.

The United States introduced a fishing license system in the early 50s. Whether you are fishing in rivers, lakes or seas, you must purchase a fishing license. Fishing without a license will result in fines and arrest by the fishery police. It is very convenient to buy a license, which can be obtained from many sports equipment stores. The fishing license comes with a booklet with hundreds of regulations, and it is up to you whether you comply with it or not.

Anyone who fishes in public waters must apply for a fishing license. Usually the price is proportional to the validity period of the license. There are one-year licenses and short-term licenses such as 1 day, 3 days or 5 days.

"…Finally, those werewolf corpses were burned together. Our headmaster issued a warning at the International Conference of Wizards, but it was disrupted by that stupid Minister of Magic, and no one else took it seriously."

Loren sighed after finishing speaking, feeling unworthy of Dumbledore.

Why don't you replace such a stupid thing quickly and stay in that position to cause trouble for yourself?

Bates put down his fishing license and glanced at the float: "So the Death Eaters are a terrorist organization. Their leader Voldemort graduated from your school, and most of the terrorists also graduated from your school."

"..." Loren was silent for a few seconds, feeling that Grandpa Bates's ability to grasp key points was a bit skewed, "There is only one school, Hogwarts, in the entire UK, and the school's students include most of Europe, so it has nothing to do with the school. "

"Oh……"

Grandpa Bates nodded noncommittally: "The Voldemort you are talking about cannot be dealt with by the wizard's magical government, right?"

"You can't say that..." Lorenti picked up the fishing rod and took a look. The bait was gone, but the fish was unhooked, so he re-baited and threw the rod. "Magical society is still in a relatively primitive stage, and many jobs are Relying on personal magical ability, in terms of individual strength, only our principal can deal with Voldemort."

"Your principal can deal with Voldemort." Bates keenly grasped the key point and repeated it. He recalled the amiable image of the white-bearded old wizard and fell into deep thought.

Loren stood by and caught a few largemouth bass, carp, and American bream from time to time... The excitement made Wendel restless.

The sparkling water dazzled Bates, and he asked in a low voice: "Can we guarantee safety?"

"Yes." Loren replied.

So Bates relaxed and began to focus on fishing.

……

The Dursleys' house, No. 4, Privet Drive, Little Whinging.

Harry slept in the room at the corner of the stairs on the second floor. There was a bed big enough to stretch out, a solid wood wardrobe to store clothes and suitcases, and a brand new small desk. Even after half the summer vacation, it looked completely unused. trace.

The desk had been added when Harry came back. No one in the Dursley family mentioned what happened last year, nor did they mention Aunt Marge who was blown up into a balloon. This made Harry feel comfortable this summer.

Perhaps it was because the midsummer weather was too hot. Even though he was sweating all over, Harry still felt hot and uneasy. He turned over in bed. In his dazed sleep, he felt as if he was in a ball of fire.

In the dream, he turned into a black cloud and escaped from the flames. He flew all the way and hid in a castle on the top of a mountain.

"I seem to have seen this castle somewhere..." Harry had a vague idea, "It seems to be...Ilvermorny."

Thinking of this, Harry's mind became much clearer, and the burning heat that burned his body also subsided.

I don’t know how long it took, but a vague woman’s figure came to me.

A cold voice sounded: "Resurrection, only true resurrection can control my magic power..."

The female voice said: "What should we do, Master?"

"Harry Potter...Harry Potter..."

Chapter 408 Late July

Far across the Atlantic Ocean, the boy named Harry Potter suddenly woke up from his dream.

Harry lay upright on the bed, breathing heavily. The lightning-shaped scar on his forehead was burning with pain, as if the flames in his dream were burning on the wound. He had to put his hand on the wound to relieve the penetration. Searing pain in skull.

After a few minutes, the burning sensation from the scar subsided a little. Harry slowly recovered and breathed a sigh of relief. He reached out to the bedside table with one hand and put on his glasses. The scenery in the bedroom slowly became clearer and outside the window. The light from the street lamp filtered through the curtains, casting a hazy orange-red soft light over the bedroom.

Turning on the desk lamp next to him, he got out of bed. Harry came to the closet mirror and looked carefully at the fourteen-year-old boy in the mirror. Under the messy black hair, there was nothing unusual about the scar on his forehead, but the excruciating pain reminded him of it. The extraordinary dream he just had.

This was not the first time that Harry dreamed of Voldemort, and he also learned from Dumbledore that this unique scar gave him a unique connection with Voldemort, and his dream confirmed what happened in reality.

What is Voldemort planning?

Harry frowned, concentrated, and tried his best to recall the scene in his dream. Everything was so vivid and impressive...

The boy's figure in the mirror in front of him gradually blurred, and a dim room began to vaguely appear... a room in a magic school on the top of a mountain. A cloud of irregular black and gray smoke floated in the room, and a man with a cruel expression stood next to him. Strong woman.

Harry had seen her in the newspapers, Bellatrix Lestrange.

They were cursing Dumbledore, cursing MACUSA... Finally, they discussed the real resurrection, and the key to resurrection lies in one person... that is - Harry Potter!

What did Dumbledore do to anger them?

What do they want to do to themselves?

What are they planning?

Harry closed his eyes tightly, trying to extract more information about their conversation from his mind, but all that was left was a blank. The dream was like water. The more he tried desperately to hold the water with his hands, the more he became confused. The harder he tried to grasp the details, the faster they slipped through his fingers.

When the pain from the scar on his forehead completely subsided and the image of the dream was completely blurred, Harry could no longer dig out any details, and even his sleepiness completely dissipated. He raised his face from his hands and looked blankly at the mirror. The fourteen-year-old boy looked at the reflections of various objects in the room in the mirror.

There is an empty birdcage on the brand new desk. Hedwig usually lives in it, but more often, it flaps its wings freely outside and only comes back when it rains or when it is tired from playing. Harry thought to himself that it would be the same for him, the Dursley's house was filled with an uncomfortable smell.

There was an open book scattered on the floor beside the bed. The pictures on the pages were scenes from the Cannonball team's past games. The name was "Flying with the Cannonball Team". Some people said that the pictures in the book had been edited and beautified, but Harry felt that they had not. Because in many pages of pictures, the scenes of players from both sides fighting together have been recorded in detail.

Picking up the book and placing it on the desk, Harry walked to the window, opened the curtains and looked at the street below.

The street lights were weak, the road was deserted, and there was not a single living thing in sight, not even the shadow of a kitten.

Could Voldemort be lurking on Privet Drive?

A ridiculous idea popped into Harry's mind, and he even laughed at the idea. He sat down at the desk and looked at the calendar on the desk. It was already late July, and his birthday was approaching. .

What gifts will his three best friends give him? And how long will it be until the Quidditch World Cup that he mentioned before the holidays?

With such expectations, Harry's heavy mind slowly relaxed. He took out the parchment and began to write a letter to Dumbledore and his friends.

"..."

There was a scary sound of snoring coming from Dudley's cousin's room next door.

When the dark blue sky slowly turned into grayish white, some cool dawn breeze blew into the window and dried the ink on the letter paper.

The sun rose, the bedroom walls were illuminated golden, and there was movement in Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia's rooms. Harry put away the inkwell and quill on the table and read the four letters in front of him again.

He narrated the content of the dream to everyone, hoping that Dumbledore could tell him how to anger Voldemort, hoping that Ron, whose father and brother worked in the Ministry of Magic, could reveal some inside information, hoping that the mysterious Loren and the clever What could Hermione tell him.

If Loren and Hermione's home phones hadn't been blocked, their communication might have been faster and more convenient.

Harry was thinking this and suddenly had a doubt: "Is it enough for Loren and Hermione to just write a letter?"

……

The Dursleys' breakfast consisted of unsweetened grapefruit and milk. Not only Uncle Vernon, but also Harry had some difficulty eating it.

This painful life began after my cousin Dudley came home during the summer vacation and brought back the final report card and the teacher's comments. Ignoring the unsightly grades and comments about Dudley bullying his classmates, Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia noticed the last sentence: There were no more pants in the school clothing store that Dudley could fit into.

Aunt Petunia said that Dudley was just a big-boned boy, and that being overweight was just a temporary obesity caused by adolescence. He was still in the growth and development stage, so he needed plenty of food and nutrition.

Despite this, the weight loss recipes sent by the Smelting school nurse were still posted on the refrigerator. They did not include any of Dudley's favorite foods, such as soda drinks, cakes, chocolate candies, and hamburger steaks. There were only fruits, vegetables, and some... What Uncle Vernon called "junk food."

In order to make Dudley feel better, Aunt Petunia insisted that the whole family follow that recipe. After a few days, the whole family turned green, especially Dudley and Vernon, the two heavier ones. Anyway, Harry felt They all spoke much quieter.

Fortunately, they didn't know that Harry's scale ornaments contained secrets, including delicacies brought from Honeydukes Candy Shop and Hogwarts kitchens. Although there were not many left, they should be able to survive. this summer holiday.

Harry looked forward to going back upstairs to a real breakfast, eating the grapefruit in silence without the sweetness.

In fact, he could occasionally smell the aroma of food coming from his cousin Dudley's bedroom at night, including donuts, cold bread, and even tasteless finger biscuits... In short, his uncle and aunt's weight loss plan was probably going to fail.

Uncle Vernon put down the newspaper and saw the small grapefruit on the plate. He looked at Aunt Petunia angrily, but was stared back with stern eyes. He looked at Dudley, who had finished his breakfast in a few bites, and the chairs at the dining table. Dudley could barely hold him up, and his tire-like flesh was hanging on the chair. Then he looked at Harry, who was eating silently.

Uncle Vernon sighed heavily, making his shaggy beard twitch, and picked up the spoon.

People can deceive others, but they cannot deceive themselves.

In order for Dudley to have pants to wear when he returns to Mestin next semester, he can only endure it.

Harry finished eating the grapefruit and stood up slowly: "I'm done eating. I'm going back to my room."

Since last summer vacation, Harry no longer has to do the work in the kitchen. He spends most of his time in his room. The Dursleys are very afraid of his magic textbooks, cauldrons, and even birdcages. It's stained with an evil curse that makes them look like Aunt Maggie, so they basically don't bother him.

No one paid any attention to Harry, Dudley was clamoring for cakes and chocolates, and Vernon and Petunia were struggling to cope.

After breakfast, Vernon was almost late for work, so he had to drive to Graning Company in a hurry. Petunia needed to buy some daily necessities in the morning, so they got in the car and went to the market together.

"My dear, stay at home, play games and watch TV. How about I bring you some delicious fruit at noon?"

Dudley glared at her angrily: "I don't want fruit, I want cake, chocolate..."

Hedwig flapped her wings and flew in from the window.

The sounds downstairs gradually died down and Dudley ran back to the room, the fermented aroma of cold bread gradually filling the air.

Harry put the Chocolate Frog, which only had its hind legs left, into his mouth and sighed with satisfaction. He felt happy when he thought that Dudley could only eat bland cold bread while he had plenty of snacks.

Happiness is indeed created by contrast.

Thinking that Loren and Hermione might be traveling to other countries now and Dumbledore was busy with things, Harry asked Hedwig to send letters in this order to Ron, Dumbledore, Loren and Hermione. Considering that asking for information may take some time, I specifically told it not to wait for a reply.

……

Hampstead Gardens on the outskirts of the city, Granger's house.

Hermione sat back on the sofa, her slender legs folded together and placed diagonally on the sofa cushions. There was a "History of Magic in North America" ​​on her lap. The page of the book was opened in the middle, and there was the New York Ghost newspaper from the previous two days.