The days of hanging out at Hogwarts

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 attention to Harry, Dudley made a fuss about eating cakes and chocolates, and Vernon and Petunia were struggling to deal with it.

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 with only its hind legs into his mouth and sighed contentedly. Dudley could only eat bland cold bread, but he had plenty of snacks, which made Harry feel good.

Happiness really comes from 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.

Hermione's face was expressionless as she heard the sound of the Coke can's tab opening next to her.

Since coming back from New York, my mother has once again restricted her usual snacks and drinks. All snacks have been replaced with sugar-free ones, and the drinks have been replaced with sugar-free sodas, which are not irritating at all.

But this person didn't have any consciousness at all. He would come to her with snacks every day, drink soda and eat snacks in front of her. He had a bad personality and was extremely hateful.

"Drinking Coke in the summer...ah!" Loren burped roughly and smacked his lips, "The Quidditch World Cup is about to begin. Professor Granger, do you have any thoughts on the tickets?"

"No," Hermione replied coldly.

Loren didn't care about her indifference at all and continued: "Ron said last semester that his father could get tickets from the Ministry of Magic. I guess Neville's parents also have tickets... But I think we should buy them ourselves. The tickets are better, and if you pay a higher price, you can probably buy them in Diagon Alley...what do you think?"

"Um."

"Then let's go check out Diagon Alley this weekend."

"Um."

"Hmm...how can I be Professor Granger if I don't even know how to speak?"

The sound of an owl flapping its wings was heard at the door. Loren looked at Hermione, who had a cold expression, curled his lips, put down the Coke and went to the door to check the situation.

Outside the door is a snowy owl with pure white feathers, holding two letters in its beak. A spectacled owl was flying around beside them, probably because they hadn't seen their colleagues for a long time. Hanhan and Hedwig were very excited, and kept making urging cooing sounds from their mouths.

Seeing Loren coming out, Hedwig hurriedly handed the letter to him, flew away with Hanhan without asking for snacks.

"It's a letter from Harry, one from you and one from me..."

Loren returned to the room and put Hermione's letter on her head, ruffling her hair by the way, then sat down next to her and started reading the letter.

Hermione glanced at him coldly, pursed her lips, and opened her letter silently.

[Dear Loren:

Hope you guys have a nice holiday trip. I tried calling you, but when no one answered, I knew you were not at home.

The Dursleys' summer vacation was much more interesting than in previous years. Dudley was forced to lose weight, but the plan was not very successful. He never liked exercise and always stayed in front of the game console and TV. He also hid high-calorie food... He will probably wear a skirt when he returns to school next semester. Thinking about this makes me happy.

Thank you for your storage scales, the sizzling honey candies inside always give me a happy feeling.

Something strange happened this morning, my scar hurts again, which as you can imagine, means I had another dream about Voldemort. I dreamed that he broke away from Wormtail's body and turned into black mist again, and cursed Dumbledore with Bellatrix Lestrange, planning a real resurrection, and about me, I said Not sure.

Do you have any news about Voldemort and Dumbledore? Eagerly looking forward to your reply.

Harry]

"I know, I know, but it feels very troublesome to write a reply..." Loren scratched his head, took a sip of Coke, and muttered suspiciously, "Why does the Coke feel so much lighter..."

"Ahem!"

Hermione cleared her throat and suggested calmly, "We could just call him so we don't have to write."

"How smart, Miss Know-It-All!"

Loren stood up and wanted to go to the table to make a phone call. From the corner of his eye, he saw Hermione looking at him nervously.

"..."

Loren pondered for a few seconds, picked up the Coke on the table, and went to make a phone call while wandering.

Looking at his back, Hermione pursed her lips, with a faint light shining in her eyes.

…

On the Dursley family's dining table, there was still grapefruit that was so bland and tasteless, and it was also paired with banana, guava and papaya, which made people's faces turn to the color of peel.

Uncle Vernon sighed as he ate. He felt that Dudley hadn't lost weight yet, he was almost losing weight.

Aunt Petunia looked the same, she had always been thin, and her long pony teeth were perfect for chewing fruit.

Cousin Dudley fidgeted with the bananas on his plate with his fork. He wanted to mix the cold bread and donuts with the fruit, which would taste good.

Jingle Bell--

Jingle Bell--

The phone suddenly rang.