Hogwarts 1991

Chapter 463 Dream and Faith

Harry carefully recalled that nightmare,

The huge cauldron...strange magic ritual...Voldemort in the mist...and the infiltrating giant snake...

By the way, the blood of that big snake...

Voldemort and the others seem to be using the blood of the serpent for some kind of transaction?

Harry quickly wrote down what he remembered on the parchment,

He remembered that Bellatrix seemed to be holding something to make Voldemort talk to someone?

What the hell is going on?

--cell phone?
Who is talking to Voldemort?
Yes, MacGuffin Albert!
What's the matter!

The memory gradually became clearer, but Harry felt more and more absurd,
——This must be a dream!And this dream is getting more and more outrageous.

Albert helped Voldemort resurrect? ...

The MacGuffin, he, was a Death Eater?

Harry shivered, shivering all over, remembering that after his exams last term...

that night,

——Albert pulled Voldemort's head and hovered in the air under the night.

That scene...he still vividly remembers it!

This is impossible!

There is absolutely no connection between the two, and if there is, it will only be a deep hatred.

Voldemort probably wants to crush McGuffin to ashes now...

By the way, there is that mobile phone!
Since last year, Uncle Dursley has been showing off that thing, saying that when he has time, he insists on having one at work and at home.

Harry also couldn't believe Voldemort was using such a Muggle creation.

It's so ridiculous, it's better not to write these things down, even if you think about it in your head, you will find it extremely ridiculous.

Harry stopped taking notes.

But...he stroked the scar with his fingers, it was still painful and burning...as if someone was torturing himself, performing torture.

This made him very uneasy.

The last time the scar pain was so severe was in Honeydukes' cellar, facing Voldemort... Could it be that Voldemort has come to Privet Drive at this moment?

Harry stood up, went to the window, gently parted the curtains to reveal a gap, and looked out.

The current Privet Drive is completely in line with the night scene of a Muggle community street... It is quiet, there is darkness beyond the street lights, there is no movement in the Muggle houses, and all the curtains are tightly drawn.

Only a cry or two from Hedwig or other owls in the distance in the sky made this place not so lifeless and terrifying.

Harry looked out, scanning every dark corner, trying to catch those cold, cruel red eyes.

After watching it for a long time, he realized that his thinking was too absurd. How could it be... He actually believed that the nightmare was real.

I am so stupid!
With a self-deprecating smile on Harry's face, he sat down on the chair again, and Hedwig's birdcage moved to the other side, and from under it, he found the golden peacock quill that Hermione gave her for her birthday.

(It kept shining so brightly that he had to go to great lengths to keep it... hidden from the Dursleys. Vernon and Petunia, his aunts and uncles, hated anything about him, but Harry would bet his toes that they wouldn't say no to something so shiny and so valuable.)
The quill was stained with ink, and he spread out a new parchment, ready to discuss the matter with his friends. Although it was absurd, it was indeed a good topic,

And since he woke up, this matter has been entangled in his mind.

Harry was desperate for someone to talk to.

To whom?

— Hermione?
Hermione's bluffing, fussing voice immediately sounded in Harry's mind.

"Harry, your scar hurts! It must be something unusual... Write to Dumbledore quickly..."

Indeed, Hermione would definitely ask the professor, or look for answers in books.

Ron?

He must be more confused than himself, he should ask Mr. Weasley, or his brothers.

Ron is a young wizard from a magical family, and his connections are wider than Harry's.

But... none of these methods will work with a high probability.

After all, Harry was the only one who survived a spell like Voldemort's, and no one else had such an experience...

Harry held his forehead, which was still painfully painful.

Who should I look for?

At once a human face came to his mind, the face of another friend of his--McGuffin Albert.

The guy was thin and thin, and he was slightly stronger than himself. He often had a big black-rimmed eye with no prescription on his face to cover his expression. His hair was either fried and messy...or neat, like a Muggle school nerd.

This state also made him a bit eccentric and slightly crazy.

Different from Hermione's alertness, and Ron's confusion.

Albert always has his own unique and sharp point of view,
But it turned out afterwards that he was always able to point out the most crucial and most overlooked part of the facts.

—what would he say?

Harry tried to mimic the McGuffin's thinking about the whole thing.

"Does your scar hurt? Harry, you should look for the reason... What... You dreamed that Voldemort was resurrected?... And Wormtail, Bellatrix, and... I'm still a Death Eater! How can you insult people out of thin air! Where? Where did this happen? Think about the specific location... I have to show you a boulder in Voldemort's chest today!"

ha! — Chi!

Harry quickly bit the back of his hand, letting out bursts of giggles, his body shaking violently because of the laughter.

The broken chair under the butt creaked.

Harry stood up quickly, trying not to wake the Dursleys by making any movement.

— This is indeed very MacGuffin style!

Because of his own idea, he almost couldn't breathe from laughing.

After recovering from his breath, Harry hurriedly listened to the Dursleys' movements in the silence.

The snoring of Dudley and Uncle Vernon was still deafening, and the room was trembling continuously along the pipes in the wall.

Very scary.

However, this realistic snoring made Harry start to calm down and think about the ideas he just came up with.

That's right, the location!
Where is the place in the dream!

One thing's for sure - that's not around Hogwarts.

Harry closed his eyes and remembered,

There is a hillside...wilderness..., there is a village, and there is a black silhouette of an old house not far from the hillside, which looks very grand and exquisite.

What is in front of you and under your feet...

By the way, it was a cemetery overgrown with weeds.

There was a tombstone, but Harry couldn't remember the name.

damn it!
The vague memories in the dream flowed quickly through his mind like flowing water.

Harry opened his eyes, his mind becoming more and more confused.

—He has to discuss it with someone, or talk to McGuffin and ask him what's going on?

The question is how to write it?

—McGuffin, sorry to bother you, but my scar ached early this morning, and I had a horrible nightmare... Voldemort is back!And you were the one who helped bring Voldemort back to life...

outrageous!
That said, it's even possible that McGuffin would think he's gone crazy!
Harry shook his head, crumpled up the parchment, and spread it out again.

-McGuffin... I had a terrible nightmare about Voldemort, he came back to life, you know what?Did you know that Bellatrix is ​​not dead?

I can't write any more.

Harry crumpled again, rubbing his scar.

--Ugh!

No matter how I write it, it feels wrong and I can't say it.

What was written was either frantic babbling or friends who seemed suspicious of themselves.

In fact, Harry also knew that what he really needed now was an elder he could ask for advice, like a parent... who cared about him, believed him no matter what stupid things he said, and pointed out a way forward for him.

ah!By the way, Sirius Black!

An answer popped into Harry's head.

How could he not have thought of it, he was so stupid.

In addition to the Dursleys, he did have a reliable elder, his own godfather——Blake.

Although he was still guarded and monitored by that old bat Snape, he definitely knew how to analyze this nightmare, and he could draw a definite conclusion for himself about the pain of the scar.

And he had once told Harry... he could be consulted about anything, big or small.

The parchments were kept crumpled and piled up all over the floor. When the light of dawn gradually entered the room through the curtains, Harry finally sorted out a letter after stuttering——

He read it again to see if there was any problem.

Dear Sirius:
It has been three days since you last wrote to me.

I don't know if 'that old bat Snape' (crossed out, changed to Professor Snape) is spying on you again, I hope your life is a little easier.

Things didn't change here, and Dudley's weight loss plan was on the verge of failure before it even started.There was a big tantrum between the three of the Dursleys.

But all this didn't bother me.

Like I said before, because of that stern letter you got, plus that warrant that looks like a serial killer... it's scaring the Dursleys, they're afraid you'll show up and turn them all into bats.

Because of this, compared to last year, the Dursleys now treat me like air... To be honest, this actually makes my life much easier.

However, I look forward to meeting you... when the Quidditch World Cup kicks off.

Dumbledore and Snape, and Minister Cornelius Fudge agreeing to this is much more than I expected,
This is my best birthday present this year.

However, I have a strange thing to tell you.

This morning, my scar hurts again.

You know, the last time I was in pain was when I faced Voldemort last semester.

This is not the weirdest thing, the thing that makes me feel a little bit creepy is——

Before the scar hurt, I had a nightmare.

And the story in the dream was so absurd and terrifying that I couldn't forget it for a long time even after waking up...

I've thought twice about telling you about this, but you've written to tell me that anything out of the ordinary... no matter how big or small, I can be consulted with you...

If you can, after listening to this absurd nightmare, I hope you can tell me that the worries in my heart are extremely absurd.

So, see you at the Quidditch World Cup Final!Sirius!
Note: I will record that dream in detail on another parchment.

- Harry

Harry picked up another piece of parchment and read it, which was the bizarre dream.

Sirius——I don't want to cause you nervousness, I hope you can figure out what's going on from my narrative?

——It was a tomb shrouded in white mist. I can't remember the name on the tombstone, but I feel very familiar.

The protagonists of the nightmare are three people... no, four!

If I heard correctly, there was a little wizard in it, called Wormtail...and a woman, though she looked different, but Voldemort and Wormtail called her Bellatrix!
Well, it was the dead female Death Eater that had been reported in the newspaper.Except for Voldemort, the only one left... was MacGuffin Albert who didn't show up.

Well, that's right, Albert is also involved... You should understand why I think this dream is so absurd and bizarre, right?
And the next thing is what I want to tell you: Voldemort passed the deal with McGuffin... and after a weird magic ceremony,
--Resurrected!

The Dark Lord, he is resurrected.

At least that's how it was in my dream.

I hope you can give me some pointers, you should know how flustered I was when I woke up from the nightmare and found my scars started to hurt... (strike out)

Doesn't that last line sound a bit tense, Harry thought.

He shook his head, picked up a quill to cross out the last line, and changed the name of Sirius on the two pieces of parchment to Padfoot, so as not to expose Sirius' whereabouts if someone else got the letter, after all, he was still a wanted criminal on the surface.

After reading one side again, Harry felt that it was almost done, so he copied it again, rolled up the parchment, and put it on the table.

Now, just wait for Hedwig to come back and send it away.

Harry stood up, stretched - and drew the curtains with a snap.

At this time, the sun had already risen, and the windows on both sides of the street reflected the orange-red light; the birds stood on the electric wires again, turned their heads and looked around for the flying insects in the morning; gradually there was movement on the empty road... The puppy began to be slowly taken for a walk by the owner; occasionally, a newspaper delivery milk Muggle was galloping past on a red bicycle...

When the room in the bedroom was reflected in golden yellow, there was movement in Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia's room.

After Harry heard it, he tidied up the room a little (those magic items were repacked into the big wooden box), opened the window (so that Hedwig could fly into the birdcage for a while),

He came to the closet, put on his clothes according to the mirror there, rubbed his face to make himself not look so panic-stricken and tired, and then went downstairs to have breakfast.

…………

Compared to Harry's comfort after letting go of the burden in his heart,
When the first ray of sunlight hit someone in Dumbledore's office from across the mountain, that is, Snape's face (he had already recovered), it made this old bat, who had been sullen and listening to the whole 'story', suddenly look like he was set on fire.

"You, you..."

The roar was almost thunderous, echoing over the deserted Hogwarts Castle.

His spit sprayed the McGuffin all over his head and face.

Even McGuffin had to secretly cast a [waterproof and moistureproof] spell on himself.

After a long time, Snape calmed down,

After a long silence, he asked Dumbledore, who had ducked aside, "Is this also in your plans? — old bee!"

He gritted his teeth and directly called out the nickname McGuffin gave Dumbledore, which showed that what happened last night had made him so angry that he was out of his mind.

(End of this chapter)