[HP] Harry and the Platypus go to Gringotts

Harry was reading about medieval witch hunts when he looked up and spotted the spider.

It was already midnight, and her eyes were red and swollen, not just because of staying up late.The room is full of dust, which shows that when she was in school, her aunt really did what she said and never helped her clean up.Whenever Harry turned to another reference book to find some useful citations, the light of the flashlight always created a cloud of faint smoke, which quickly dissipated without a trace, but Still makes her eyes itchy.Rubbing her eyes with her hands, she couldn't help but yawned, and she braced herself to continue writing.The fortune teller Wendelin is good at freezing fire spells, which is the reason why she survived the burning 47 times...

The nib of the pen seemed a little frayed, and Harry had to stop to find the knife.As the sound of the quill nib rubbing against the paper disappeared, four Privet Drive returned to silence.She was a little surprised that her cousin didn't snore tonight. Could it be that Aunt Petunia was finally willing to take him to the doctor?While thinking, he reached for the bedside table that she had stuffed with school supplies, when Harry suddenly saw a spider lying on his skirt.

It was half the size of her palm, and most of its body was made up of slender legs and feet.Until Hogwarts sent his first acceptance letter, Harry had been sleeping in the cupboard under the stairs instead of the small room where his cousin Dudley used to store old toys and textbooks.There are more spiders in the cupboard.

She gently brushed the little thing off her clothes, even though she knew she could easily catch it or even crush it to death, anyway, it couldn't be harder than catching the golden snitch, but she didn't hate spiders - first, it was her roommate The friendliest and quietest of them all, who neither yells at her nor rushes her to do chores; second, spiders are better than mice, which will eat her parchment; In the room, you don't have to worry about bugs here.

It had been a long night, and Harry's eyelids were getting heavy, and tiredness was overpowering her nerves.Fortunately, I finally gave the paper a hasty finish before dawn.She dozed off twice during the period, and the second time Harry woke up suddenly, his heart beating wildly, convinced that his uncle saw a light in the door on the way to the bathroom, and was about to open the door and come in.She pushed the ink bottle and textbooks under the pillow almost immediately, and pulled up the quilt to lie down despite sitting cross-legged until her stiff calves felt numb like needle pricks.Knock, knock.It wasn't my uncle, but the owl had come back from hunting and was beckoning the window to let it in.Hedwig, it turned out to be just Hedwig.

Harry sat up with difficulty, and shuffled over to open the window.Hedwig flew in, throwing a dead mouse into her hand at the same time.

"Oh, my God." I really don't have the good fortune to enjoy this big meal, but if I live up to its kindness like this, Hedwig will have trouble with her in the next few days. "No, what I mean is, Hedwig... I'm really not hungry." The owl bit her ear in dissatisfaction, and she quickly changed her words, "I'll put it on the window sill, you can eat it tomorrow."

Satisfied at last, the snowy owl flew off her shoulders and into the cage.Then the sky brightened, and morning came, and it was a new day.The most beautiful moment on Privet Drive is at dawn. Most of the houses of the residents are no longer young, reminiscent of toys that were once glamorous and forgotten outside after the wind, rain and sunshine.No one had moved out of Privet Drive or in since Harry could remember, and she turned thirteen just after midnight today.It was still early and no one was awake except for the timed sprinklers on the lawn.An hour later Aunt Petunia knocked on Harry's bedroom door and threw her a dishcloth.

"After work, let's make breakfast."

Not a bad arrangement.Any reasonable person would not be willing to wait until noon to work in the sun, not to mention that my cousin would definitely dangle beside her while licking ice cream and admire her sweating appearance.

Harry knew exactly what to do around the house by the time he started primary school, without even needing to plan ahead.She cleaned the windows first, and then went to the front lawn to clean Uncle Vernon's car, and the work of weeding was arranged after cooking-the time to start the weeding would drive the uncle who was still dreaming on the pillow crazy.Soapy water trickled down the window, and her face was reflected in the reflection.Harry pulled the corners of his mouth, so he in the bubble water smiled blankly.With thick crimson hair that fell to her shoulders and large, doe-colored hazel eyes, she looked a lot healthier than the eleven-year-old she had been at Hogwarts.In primary school, Harry also worked hard to get the girls in his grade to like her so he could be invited to join them in their games.She is not ugly, but she is short, and the bony knees under the skirt are so thin that it is unpleasant to look at. In addition, she wears it every day. It is always the faded dress that my aunt bought from the second-hand store, It can be said that it is no surprise that he will become the target of everyone's bullying.What's more, what makes everyone dislike her is the scar, the lightning-shaped scar on her forehead...

Someone rang the doorbell.

"Harry, go and open the door!"

An aunt's yell broke between the morning newscaster's reading.Harry walked around the car and saw a tall, lanky man in glasses standing on the steps.He was a little bald, and the rest of his hair was red as fire.

Visiting number four Privet Drive wearing a robe was never a good idea in Harry's opinion.

The man obviously noticed her too. "Hello—I mean, good morning. If I'm not mistaken, you must be Harriet, aren't you?"

Harry nodded. "Good morning, Sir."

"Great, so I found the right place! Muggles live so densely, and there are twists and turns in the residential area... By the way, I haven't introduced myself yet, I'm—"

"Ron's dad." She nodded, "I saw you once on the platform."

"Oh, you're Ron's friend? He didn't tell me..." he muttered under his breath, before shaking Harry's hand. "Anyway, nice to meet you, Harriet. I'm Arthur , Arthur Weasley."

"Ron and I are not in the same college, but we take many subjects together." She didn't reach out, looked at the wet sponge in her hand, and smiled apologetically at the other party, "I'm glad to see you too, Mr Weasley. Call me Harry, if you like."

Mr. Weasley withdrew his hand and wiped his robes awkwardly back and forth twice. "Ginny should have mentioned to you that my wife Molly and I would like to invite you to our house to thank you for helping our daughter last term."

"Yes, Ginny wrote me about it, and I'd be glad to visit your house," she said, "but I thought it would be until—"

"I told you to open the door, are you deaf?!"

The door was opened roughly, revealing Aunt Petunia's face behind her.She had a long, dark, equine face, thickly knuckles, and a long thin neck that seemed designed for peeping behind fences into neighbors' yards.When Petunia noticed the strange clothes of the stranger at the door, a look of scrutiny was carved out of fine lines on her face.Mr. Weasley mistook her mean look for an unnatural smile, and sincerely held out his right hand again.

"Hi, ma'am. I'm—"

"This gentleman is the father of a classmate of mine," said Harry, before he could offer any wizarding self-introduction. "I told you, Aunt Petunia, that they invited me to stay at their house for a while." .”

After confirming that the man in front of her and her niece belonged to "one type of person" through her euphemism, Aunt Petunia stepped back a few feet into the porch in an instant, as if Mr. Weasley insisted on taking the sponge in Harry's hand Blow her nose.Then, after she retreated to a position where she felt safe, the shriveled middle-aged woman folded her arms and frowned expertly.

"Didn't you say they will pick you up at the end of August?"

"I was just speaking to Mr. Weasley about this..."

"Oh, yes—the end of August, the last week, there's nothing wrong with that." Mr. Weasley took up the conversation considerately after receiving her look, "It was originally an appointment like this, but something happened. You See, my wife and children were traveling in Egypt, and returned to England the same day we received a letter from Headmaster Dumbledore. As to the reasons for our haste, if you will sit down and let me explain, ma'am—"

"You can take her away today." Aunt Petunia interrupted him impatiently, "The sooner the better." She slammed the door panel hard and went back to the living room.

"Since your aunt said so..." Mr. Weasley turned to Harry for her advice, sounding somewhat helplessly blank.

"Don't worry, sir. I'll be off in a minute, just give me a few minutes to pack up."

"Very good, very good. Then I'll wait for you here." Mr. Weasley seemed to have sensed something strange from Petunia's reaction, "Your uncle and aunt—how do you live with them?"

"them……"

Her elementary school teachers had also asked this question.At first Harry was afraid to answer right away, she didn't know what she would say to those who cared about her.Later she understood that no matter how much she said, it would not affect the attitude of the Dursleys towards her. "They've been very nice to me," Harry told him.

The man looked relieved. "That's good." He smiled. "She doesn't seem to be in a good mood."

Harry tried to force a smile: "The Dursleys have a strong sense of time, and they are not good at dealing with sudden visits."

"I should have written you a letter first, but... no, it's nothing. It was my oversight this time."

Harry first picked up the hose to rinse off the bubbles on the car's coating, poured the soapy water down the drain under the window, then threw the sponge into the bucket, and put it back in its original place in the warehouse in the backyard, before entering through the back door. Room.Aunt Petunia had gone to make breakfast for Harry, and neither Uncle Vernon nor Dudley, sitting in front of the television, had paid Harry the slightest attention as he passed through the back of the living room: Dudley thumped the table loudly and complained Why isn't breakfast ready yet? Uncle's little eyes are staring at the TV over the top of the newspaper.A message about the fugitive criminal was broadcast on the screen, and a black and white photo was attached.The wanted criminal had a thin face, and his foot-long messy hair was tangled together as if it hadn't been trimmed in ten years, making his facial features impossible to see clearly.

"...The public must be aware that Black is armed and extremely dangerous. The relevant department has set up a special hotline. Anyone who knows Black's whereabouts must call this number immediately to report..."

She went upstairs with light steps, and put the scattered books in the nightstand and on the floor, a few clothes and some small change into the suitcase as quickly as possible, so as to avoid extra trouble caused by staying here.I'm finally leaving this ghostly place, and I don't have to pay attention to Aunt Marge who will come to stay in the afternoon!The thought made Harry move extra lightly.Aunt Marge was Uncle Vernon's sister, and she hated Aunt Marge as much as she hated--could that be her fault?The woman even let a dog bite her.

Running all the way down the stairs, Harry rushed out the door without heeding Uncle Vernon pumping his fists behind him and roaring angrily.The front yard smells like soapy water and cut grass and sunshine before it's fully up, summer smells, morning smells, freedom, it smells good.

"I'm ready, sir." She stepped forward. "Let's go."

"Put your hand on my arm and we'll teleport over there." Mr Weasley pulled her into the shadows, "Come on, Harry, please stand behind the hedge so no Muggles can see us Suddenly disappeared in public. The spell will be a little uncomfortable, but don't be afraid, you will get used to it later."

The author has something to say:

Sorry for not updating for a long time.I was taking a hormone-regulating drug before, and I strongly suspect that the desire to create is linked to androgen... Because I was not satisfied with the state of writing this article at the time, I rebuilt it from scratch. I hope you like the new version.