I, Hogwarts Week Two

Chapter 541 The Dursleys Leave

Harry carefully searched the box for other fragments.

Those tiny bits of glass fragments stuck to the bottom of the box looked like coarse, shiny grains of sand. As Harry touched them, he suddenly felt inexplicably irritated. He impatiently turned the box over and poured out everything inside.

He was the one who broke the two-way mirror.

After a phone call with Sirius.

The ignorance irritated him.

"Hoo—" Harry took a deep breath.

He stared at the empty boxes and the sundries on the floor for a long time, then fell powerlessly onto the bed.

After lying lazily for half an hour, he finally stood up again.

It took another hour to completely empty the box beside the bed, throwing away the useless items and sorting the rest into piles according to whether they would be needed later. The house robes, Quidditch uniforms, crucibles, parchment, quills and most of the textbooks were piled in a corner and left at home. I didn't know what my mother and uncle would do with them, probably burn them in a fire in the middle of the night, as if they were evidence of some heinous crime.

His Muggle clothes, Invisibility Cloak, potion-making utensils, a few books, the photo album Hagrid had given him, a stack of letters, and his wand were placed in an old backpack.

In the front pocket of his backpack was the Marauder's Map and a bunch of magic props given to him by the twins.

Now, all that was left was the pile of newspapers on the table next to his snowy owl, Hedwig. Like Hermione, Harry was irritated by the nonsense that filled the Daily Prophet.

No news of any importance--well--maybe there was, but he couldn't tell.

As he continued to feel sad, there was a sudden sound of the front door slamming shut, followed by a man shouting, "Hey! You!"

Harry had been yelled at like this for sixteen years. He knew who his uncle was calling, but he didn't answer immediately. It wasn't until his uncle yelled "Boy!" that Harry slowly stood up, pushed the box beside the bed under the bed, and walked towards the bedroom door.

"What are you waiting for?" Vernon Dursley saw Harry appear at the stairs and shouted angrily, "Come down quickly, I have something to say!"

Harry walked slowly down the stairs with his hands in the pockets of his jeans.

He came into the living room and found all three of the Dursleys, dressed for a long trip: Uncle Vernon in a fawn zip-up jacket, Aunt Petunia in a simple pale orange blouse, and Harry's big, blond, muscular cousin Dudley in a leather jacket.

"What's the matter?" Harry asked calmly, as if it was nothing important.

"Sit down! You rude brat," Uncle Vernon said. Harry raised his eyebrows, unmoved. Until Vernon quickly added, as if the word pierced his throat, "Please!"

Harry sat down. He knew what Vernon wanted from him.

They had discussed this countless times in the past three weeks.

"I've changed my mind!" said Vernon.

"Well - I'm not surprised," said Harry. "So when are you going to change it back?"

"Don't use that tone of voice..." Aunt Petunia screamed, and Uncle Vernon waved her off.

"Don't try to deceive me." Uncle Vernon stared at Harry with his piggy eyes. "We're not leaving. And we're not going to the Far East!"

"It doesn't matter. You can stay." Harry said indifferently, "Anyway, if you are caught by the Death Eaters and tortured, I won't come to save you."

"How dare you talk like that!" Vernon was furious. He shouted, "You are the one who caused all this! You ungrateful bastard, we raised you with so much hardship, and this is how you repay us? By bringing those monsters into our home?"

Uncle Vernon's roar echoed in the empty living room, while Aunt Petunia remained silent.

Harry calmly retorted, "The Death Eaters have caused so much trouble in London this year that many people have left. In the end, you would have left even without me. And someone has already arranged everything. You got a safe house for nothing."

"Kingsley and Sirius have explained it," Harry continued, unmoved. "As soon as I turn seventeen, the spell that keeps me safe will break, and I and you will be exposed. You must leave by the end of July."

"Isn't there a Ministry of Magic?" Vernon Dursley asked suddenly.

"Yes." Harry was surprised.

"Then why can't they protect us? In my opinion, as innocent victims, we have not done anything bad except adopting a suspect, and we should be protected by the government!"

Harry laughed out loud, he couldn't help it.

My uncle was like this, always pinning his hopes on people with higher status or powerful departments, even in a world that he hated and distrusted, as if doing so would make him feel safe.

"You should have heard what Mr. Weasley and Kingsley said." Harry replied, "There are bad guys in the Ministry of Magic. And interacting with powerful people will not bring you safety. In fact, the Minister of Magic and the Prime Minister are much more dangerous than you. They may be attacked in the next second and lose their lives!"

Uncle Vernon strode to the fireplace and back again, breathing heavily.

His thick black mustache also rose and fell, and his big face was still flushed purple.

Obviously, he was persuaded by Harry.

"All right, all right!" he said, stopping in front of Harry again. "Let's put it this way. I believe your bullshit and we'll take the protection, but I still don't see why we can't have that big Kingsley protect us."

"Kingsley has his own work to do. Someone else is responsible for assigning you this time." Harry said a little irritably.

"Someone else?" Uncle Vernon said, "Another bunch of strangers. Let us see their resumes."

Before he could finish his words, Harry lost his patience and stood up.

"Do you think this is a vacation?" he said in a tone of disbelief. I have never seen such a stupid person. "Earthquakes, tsunamis, explosions, plane crashes, train derailments, and everything that has happened since we last watched the news. People are missing, people are dead, and it's all because of him - Voldemort. I've told you countless times that he enjoys killing Muggles.

Hundreds of thousands of people died indirectly at his hands.

Maybe you should check the news and see what happened in Berlin last year—"

"That's enough!" growled Vernon Dursley. "Don't mention those horrible things. You've made yourself clear."

"I hope so," said Harry. "As soon as I turn seventeen, all those creatures - Death Eaters, Dementors, werewolves, and maybe Inferi - the dead bodies that have been enchanted by Dark wizards, and those damned Omen Children, Deadborns, and Pretenders - will be able to find you and will certainly come after you. If you remember your last fight with a wizard, I think you'll admit that you need help."

"In a few minutes, the Order of the Phoenix will be here." Harry no longer had the patience and energy to continue explaining to Vernon. He had already explained too much in the past few weeks of summer vacation. "Believe it or not, but I have to tell you that this will be your last chance."

None of the Dursleys responded, and he left the living room.

Thinking that he was going to be separated from his aunt, uncle and cousin and perhaps never see them again, he felt happy, but the atmosphere was still a little awkward.

<divclass="contentadv">After sixteen years of utter disgust, what else could they say to each other?

Back in the bedroom, Harry fiddled aimlessly with his backpack and stuffed a few more owl food into Hedwig's cage.

They plopped to the bottom of the cage, but Hedwig ignored them.

"We'll be leaving soon, real soon!" Harry told it. "And then you'll be able to fly again."

Doorbell rang.

Harry hesitated, then left the room and went downstairs.

He didn't know who the wizard was who arranged to send the Dursleys away this time, but no matter who it was, he had to be there because Vernon was not so easy to deal with.

"Harry Potter!" A gentle voice came in as Harry opened the door.

She was a young witch with cascading fiery red hair and eyes that sparkled like the starry sky, their azure blue reflecting the stars.

He wears oval glasses and has a straight nose.

At this moment, her gentle gaze was falling on those Harrys through the lenses.

"You are--" Harry realized that he knew this woman. She seemed to be Owen's aunt, whom he had met in Paris.

"Roy Sylph? Why is it you?"

"That's not surprising." Roy smiled, reached out and rubbed Harry's head, saying, "The transfer was arranged by the Saints - or to be more precise, Ms. Wenda. Including Hermione's parents."

"You know, a long-standing family with businesses in various places and great magical powers."

Of course there were other reasons besides this, but she didn't intend to tell Harry.

"Oh - I see." Harry nodded and said, "Then - thank you for your help."

"It's a small matter." Roy said gently.

She strode into the living room, saying, "You must be Harry's relatives!"

The three people in the room did not respond.

From their dull eyes, it could be seen that they were in a trance at the moment. Roy was not surprised at all, as many people would be like this when they saw her.

"Pack your things and you can leave immediately." Roy said, "We need to leave London first, and then use the Apparition spell to go to the safe house."

Suddenly, Penny's vision became clear again. She looked at Roy and unconsciously called out a name: "Lily?"

No - it's not.

Although both of them have long red hair and very similar body shapes, Roy's red hair is lighter and his face is more three-dimensional, not as gentle as Lily's.

It's just that - this situation, magic - and Voldemort - brought back a memory from Petunia's past.

"Who are you?" Penny looked at her nervously, her voice filled with a hint of urgency.

"Harry has just mentioned my name. As for my identity -" she suddenly glanced at Harry. "One of Harry's protectors - well - you can think of it that way."

"Really?" Penny became dazed.

Roy didn't explain any more. She began to focus all her attention on Harry, talking to him intermittently.

This made Harry very strange. She deliberately wanted to get closer to him - but - why?

He had only met the other person a few times and was not familiar with him.

Well - never mind - I'll ask Owen in a few days.

Vernon began loading the family's belongings into the car.

Because they couldn't use magic, it took the family of three more than an hour to move all the things.

In order not to leave any property to Harry, they took away all the valuable things in the house, even some worthless handicrafts.

"Oh, right." Roy seemed to suddenly remember something and took out a thick book-like object from his pocket.

"Your birthday is in a few days." She said with a smile, "This is the birthday present that Sirius prepared for you. Originally it should have been placed in a beautiful box, but I happened to meet you this time, so I'll give it to you in advance."

"What is this?" Harry took the thick 'book' puzzledly and opened it, only to find that it was actually a photo album.

Hmm - I don't know if it's a photo album.

There are also many letters.

Harry opened one at random and found that it was a letter from his mother to Sirius.

——Dear Padfoot:

——Thank you, thank you for your birthday present to Harry! This is his favorite toy. He is only one year old and can already fly around on his toy broom. He looks so happy.

——I'll attach a photo for you to see. (In the photo, Harry, who was only one year old, was 'lying' on a short broom, his chubby hands tightly grasping the front end, with an excited smile on his face, while James was calling Harry to fly towards him at the end of the corridor.)

- You know that little broomstick can only be about two feet off the ground, but Harry nearly killed the kitten and broke an ugly vase that Petunia gave me for Christmas (not complaining).

- Of course, James thought it was hilarious and said the kid was going to be the next Quidditch star, but we had to put away all the decorations and keep our eyes on him while he flew.

—We had a very quiet birthday tea, with only old Bathilda there, who was always so kind to us and doted on Harry.

—The Invisibility Cloak is still with Dumbledore, so James has no chance to get out. He would be so happy if you could come.

—Xiao Chong came last weekend. I thought he was in a low mood, but maybe it was because of the news about the McKinnons. I cried all night after hearing that.

- Bathilda often comes over. She is an interesting old lady and tells many stories about Dumbledore. It is really unimaginable. I wonder if he would be happy to hear them!

--Honestly, I don't know how much to believe. It's hard to believe that Dumbledore -- would be friends with Gellert Grindelwald. Personally, I think she's a little confused!

Infinite love,

Lily