HP Magic Biography

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In fact, after a whole night of misfortunes, the tension from the nerves is more likely to make people feel tired.

But the threat of the Death Eaters hangs in everyone's mind like a sharp sword, and there is a risk of falling at any time.

To be on the safe side, they had to huddle together in the living room on the floor that night.

A family should be neat and tidy, probably...following such a principle.

Early the next morning, Harry awoke from his sleeping bag on the living room floor.

The sky outside can be vaguely seen through the gaps exposed by the thick curtains. The sky before dawn presents faint water-blue ripples, accompanied by bursts of coolness. Everything is so quiet. There was Hermione's slow, deep breathing.

Harry watched the shadows they cast on the floor beside him.

As the only woman, Hermione was naturally on the sofa, and Fan Lin was close to her, Harry was in the middle, and Ron was on the far left.

It could be seen that Hermione was terrified all night, her arms stretched out to the floor, her fingers were very close to Fan Lin's.

Harry wondered if they had slept holding hands, and the thought made him feel extra lonely.

This probably came from the resentment of being single, somehow, Harry thought of Ginny.

He looked at the darkened ceiling, at the cobwebbed chandelier. Less than 24 hours ago, he was standing in the sun at the entrance of the marquee, preparing to lead the way for wedding guests in what seemed like a lifetime ago.

What now? He was lying on the floor, thinking about the Horcrux, which was the complicated and arduous mission that Dumbledore left him... Dumbledore... the grief brought by the death of the headmaster seemed to have changed compared to the past , Muriel's condemnation at the wedding seemed to enter his mind like a sickness, infecting the reverence he felt for the principal in his heart.

Would Dumbledore let that happen? Had he, like Dudley, used to sit idly by when it didn't concern him? Did he really ignore his imprisoned and hidden sister?

For no reason, Harry thought of Godric's Hollow, thought of the tombs that Dumbledore never mentioned, and he also thought of the fact that Dumbledore didn't give any explanation for those mysterious objects in his will, and he felt resentful It gradually swelled up in the dark.

Why didn't Dumbledore tell him? Why didn't he explain clearly? Did Dumbledore really care about Harry? Or is Harry just a tool to be polished smooth to him,

Never trust him, never trust him?

Harry couldn't take it anymore and could only lie there in pain, and he desperately needed something to distract him.

So he crawled out of his sleeping bag, picked up his wand, and tiptoed out of the room. At the top of the stairs, he whispered: Luminescence, and with the faint light from his wand, he walked up the stairs.

The third floor was where he and Ron slept last time. He glanced in, the wardrobe door was open, and the quilt cover was torn off. Harry thought again of the troll leg downstairs that fell to the ground.

Someone searched this house when the Order left! Is it Snape? Or Mundungus, the thief who betrayed the Order of the Phoenix and resulted in Moody's death?

Sirius did not come back, for him, the ancestral home of the Black family was not suitable for him to live in.

It was too big and too open, and since Snape's betrayal, Sirius had moved out of the Black family's ancestral home.

Harry's eyes lingered on the framed portrait of Phineas Nigellus... Sirius' great-great-grandfather, the most unpopular headmaster in Hogwarts history.

But now there is nothing in the frame, just a muddy backdrop.

Apparently, Phineas Nigellus had spent the night in the headmaster's office at Hogwarts.

It was a good place, and no one could force their way into the principal's office without their acknowledgment.

But what if it was Voldemort?

If he and Dumbledore hadn't gone out that night and stayed in the headmaster's office, wouldn't Dumbledore have...

Harry continued up the stairs until he reached the top floor, which had only two doors. On the door directly opposite him was a sign that said: Sirius!

Harry, who had never been in his godfather's room before, pushed open the door, holding his wand high so that the fluorescent light could reach a wider area.

Sirius' room was large, and it could be seen that it must have been quite grand in the past.

The room contained a queen-size bed with a carved wooden headboard; tall windows were shaded by long velvet curtains; With candle tears drop by drop. The pictures on the walls and the headboard of the bed were also dusty, and cobwebs stretched from the chandelier to the large wooden armoire. As Harry walked inside, he also heard the footsteps of frightened mice.

This place has been abandoned for a long time. Sirius almost tried his best to get rid of the old identity of the Black family, but it must be admitted that it carried the past of his godfather and the stubbornness displayed by Sirius in the confrontation with the past.

Young Sirius used posters and pictures to hide only a few gaps in the silver-gray wall, because silver-gray is the representative color of Slytherin, which doesn't match Sirius at all.

Harry guessed that Sirius' parents couldn't do anything about the Permanent Sticking Charm, since he was sure they wouldn't approve of their eldest son's taste in decoration.

Sirius seemed to be trying to annoy his parents on purpose. There were several large Gryffindor banners in the room, faded scarlet and gold to mark him apart from the rest of the Slytherin family.

Some pictures of Muggle motorcycles were also posted on the walls, as well as several posters of Muggle girls in bikinis.

(Harry really admired Sirius' courage, it was really wayward, and it's a miracle Mrs. Black didn't break his leg because of it.)

Harry recognized them as Muggles because they were fixed to the painting, their faded smiles and bright eyes motionless. In stark contrast to these images is the only wizarding photo on the wall, showing four Hogwarts students arm in arm, laughing for the camera.

Harry ran briskly over, and he recognized his father, with the messy black hair sticking up on the back of his head, just like Harry, and he also wore glasses.

Standing next to his father was Sirius, casually handsome, with a slightly haughty face, younger and happier than Harry had ever seen him before.

Pettigrew, to Sirius' right, was a head shorter than he was, with small, round, watery eyes gleaming with the excitement of being in the company of such a cool group of people.

To James' left was Lupine, a bit shabby by comparison, but just as beaming...they loved him and accepted him, but maybe it was just because they saw Harry saw the picture?

He tried to pull it off the wall, but Harry couldn't get it off at all.

It seemed Sirius had taken all precautions to prevent his parents from redecorating the house.

Harry looked around carefully. The sky outside began to brighten, and a beam of light shone on the scattered pieces of paper, books, and some small objects.

Obviously, Sirius' room was searched by later people, and those on the ground were basically regarded as worthless. Some books had been rudely turned, the covers were separated from the books, and the pages cluttered the floor.

Harry bent down and picked up some scraps of paper, identifying them carefully. He recognized one as torn from an old edition of A History of Magic (by Bathilda Bagshot), and the other as belonging to some motorcycle maintenance manual. The third is handwritten and crumpled.

Harry flattened it out and read it.

Dear Padfoot: Thank you for Harry's birthday present! This is by far his favorite one. At just one year old, he's been zipping around on his toy broomstick, and he looks very happy about it. You can see the photos I sent with the letter. He was only two feet off the ground, but he nearly killed a cat and broke a horrible vase that Penny gave us for Christmas (no big deal).

James thought it was funny and said he'd be a great Quidditch player, but we had to put all the decorations away and keep an eye on him as he flew.

We had a fairly uneventful birthday tea, just us and old Bathilda, who was always so nice to us, and who doted on Harry. It's a shame you didn't come, but the Order of the Phoenix should come first, and Harry's too young to realize it's his birthday!

James was a bit frustrated with the isolation, and although he tried to hide it, I could see it. Dumbledore had taken his Invisibility Cloak, which made his field trip completely impossible. He would be much cheered up if you could come and visit.

Wormtail came over last weekend. I think he looked a little listless too, probably because of the news about McMillagan, which made me cry all night.

Bathilda came almost every day, and often told very interesting old stories about Dumbledore. I'm not sure Dumbledore would be happy knowing that! I don't know how much can be believed, in fact, those things are too unbelievable for Dumbledore...

Harry seemed to lose feeling in his extremities.

He stood still, his nervously convulsed fingers firmly grasping this incredible piece of paper, the excitement like a volcanic eruption rolled in his heart, and the accompanying grief flowed all over his body, he fell Sitting on Sirius' big bed.

He read the letter again, but saw nothing more. So he began to think about the font for writing letters. She wrote the g exactly like his. Harry watched word by word, over and over again, each time feeling their image, their breath, being captured softly through the veil.

This letter was an incredible treasure, it made him feel that Lily Potter had existed and lived in this world, that her warm hand had moved on the parchment, letting the ink flow on the parchment. Flowing on the paper, these words, these words about him, Harry, her child.

Hastily wiping the tears from his eyes, Harry read the letter again, this time focusing on its meaning. It felt like listening to a familiar voice speaking.

They had a cat once....maybe turned to dust like his parents in Godric's Hollow...maybe ran away because no one came to feed it....Sirius gave him the first Broomsticks... His parents knew Bathilda Bagshot, had Dumbledore introduced them to them? Dumbledore keeps his invisibility cloak... that sounds like a lot of fun...

Harry paused, thinking about what his mother had said. Why did Dumbledore take James's invisibility cloak? Harry vividly remembered the headmaster telling him I don't need an invisibility cloak to be invisible years ago.

Perhaps the less powerful members of the Order of the Phoenix needed this help, had Dumbledore ever acted as an errand?

Harry continued to wonder... Wormtail had been here before... Pettigrew, the renegade, had been listless? Did he realize then that this was the last time he'd see James and Lily? And finally there's Bathilda, the woman who used to tell incredible little stories about Dumbledore... She said Dumbledore - she said what happened to Dumbledore?

There are so many unbelievable things about Dumbledore. Like getting a poor grade on the Transfiguration exam, or bewitching a goat like Aberforth...

Harry got to his feet, examining the floor carefully; perhaps the rest of the letter was around here.

He searched eagerly for the scraps of paper, as brutally as the searcher before him, opened drawers, shook books vigorously, stood on a stool and reached for the top of the wardrobe with his hands, crawled under the bed and under the armchair. Finally, on his stomach on the floor, he found a torn piece of paper under the chest of drawers. He pulled out the slip of paper and recognized that it was exactly the slip Lily had described. A dark-haired boy was dashing in and out of the picture on a tiny broomstick, laughing happily, followed by what should have been James' big feet.

He rolled up the photo and Lily's letter in his pocket, and went on to find the next piece of paper.

Another quarter of an hour passed, and he had to admit that the rest of his mother's letter was indeed missing. Had it been lost during those sixteen years, or had it been taken by the man who had searched the room? Harry read the first page of the letter again, this time for clues that might be of value to what was on the second page.

Of course the Death Eaters wouldn't be interested in his toy broomstick... the only thing he could guess was that the stuff about Dumbledore might be of some significance.

She said Dumbledore... what did she say?

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