seven days lost

—I have been living this kind of life without past and future, and can only rely on my friends to live.It was simply unbearable.

I'm like a useless person who can't do anything, can't bring happiness to others, but can only trouble them... My heart is full of guilt and frustration.

I read the contents of the diary again, and this time I found some details.

Gryffindor.This word is very strange, it must not be found in the dictionary.I read it a few more times, trying to recall in my mind the exciting image described in the diary, but I failed, and I couldn't recall anything.Did all this really exist?Did Quidditch, Chasers, Gryffindors, Apparition really exist?Like the last sentence of my diary, could this be just a dream?Could it be that this is just a figment of my mind, something wrong with my nerves?

I stare at the journal in my hand, and for a moment I want to throw it out, it's useless, it just shows how bad my head is.There was another moment where I wanted to cry, I wanted to yell at the window, this is not the life I want, I don't want to be chained here forever, living life with no expectations.

I silently turned over a page of the diary and began to record today's life.The sky outside the window was overcast, but there was no wind.Although the future is hopeless, I still have to persevere.All I can do is write this diary well.

In the afternoon, I took the initiative to help Mrs. Weasley clean up.She looked surprised and then declined my offer, but I was determined to do so.I want to do what I can.

I cleaned my own bedroom, Ron and Hermione's bedroom (that's when I found out they were married! I couldn't believe it), the bathroom at the end of the hall, and the small warehouse on the ground floor.The warehouse was full of dust and cobwebs. I moved all the contents to the corridor, used a broom to hook the cobwebs off the ceiling, and then did a big cleaning.I found a small door in the corner of the warehouse. The door was locked, but the key was stuck in it-I don't know how long it had been left, and it was covered with copper rust.I opened the small door, and in front of the door were several stone stairs, facing a cobblestone path leading to the backyard.

The long-lost breeze blew over my sweaty horns and neck, bringing the pungent scent of grass and earth.I let it dry off my sweat, closed the door and continued cleaning out the warehouse.

After doing all this, I was too tired to speak, but I was extremely satisfied inside.I dozed off on the couch and had a strange Siri dream.I dreamed that I was walking along a corridor with a bucket and a mop. I walked slowly forward. I saw a door at the end of the corridor. My heart was longing to get close to it and push it away... getting closer It's getting closer... I stretched out my hand, and my fingertips almost touched the cold door——

"Don't go in, Harry!" Mrs. Weasley's sharp voice sounded behind me, and I woke up suddenly from my dream.

I got up and walked upstairs, I remembered the corridor, it seemed to be the second floor of the Burrow.I specifically observed Mrs. Weasley's whereabouts. She went back to her bedroom to rest, which was just right.

I walked down the corridor, it wasn't long, and soon I was standing in front of the door at the end.I pushed its door with anticipation and nervousness.But it is locked.

It surprised me, I don't know what's in this room, but I can't ask.Maybe there really are secrets hidden in it, maybe my memory was lost here too, maybe... I don't know, I can only imagine wild things, and these fantasies confuse me even more.

I pushed open a door next to me, I wanted to find a place to rest.It was a strange room, but I judged it belonged to Percy Weasley, because I saw a calendar he had taped on the wall with his name written on it.

Percy Weasley.Another strange name.I should know him, but who is he?

I stood motionless in the doorway and something was crawling up my spine.Slippery and itchy.That's my fear.I know I don't want to be alone right now, not at all.

I saw a few badges still hanging on the walls of Percy's room, polished but faded at the edges, evident from age.

With a kind of curiosity, I approached them.One of the coats of arms was crimson with a wrapped ribbon on which was engraved a name:

"Gryffindor".

Gryffindor.It was Gryffindor again.What does the name really mean?

I took a step back and pressed my back against the cold door.My brain hurts a bit, and a vague voice rang in my ears... It gradually became clear and covered my body——

"I got it too, Harry! Sure enough, Dumbledore—" A girl rushed in from the door, waving the badge in her hand, the same crimson coat of arms on the wall.

Her words stopped abruptly, and Ron, who was holding the badge, looked at her blankly. He twitched the corners of his mouth strangely, and his voice was a bit strange: "I was the one who received the badge. Are you surprised?"

"No, Ron, I thought—" Hermione was about to stammer, but Ron walked away with his head held high.

I blinked and found myself standing in Percy's room again.I still don't remember who Percy is, but I remember something else.

I ran down the stairs quickly to the living room, where Mrs Weasley had come out and was sitting on the sofa reading a newspaper.I sat down in front of her and looked straight at her.

She raised her head, yawned, and looked at me gently: "What's the matter, Harry?"

"I remember, Mrs. Weasley," I said. "I went to Hogwarts, didn't I?"

Mrs. Weasley's eyes widened slightly, and she didn't look sleepy at all now: "Oh, that's true, dear."

"The headmaster of Hogwarts is Dumbledore, isn't he?" I continued.

Mrs. Weasley's expression changed. At that moment I thought she was going to cry, but she adjusted her expression quickly.

"It used to be, boy. Now the Headmaster is Professor McGonagall." She sighed.

"Professor McGonagall?" I frowned, "Where's Dumbledore?"

"He... he's retired." When she said this, Mrs. Weasley kept pinching the corner of her apron, seeming a little nervous.

She's lying, I think.If I ask her, will she tell me?

"Why did he retire?"

"You will always retire when you are old, kid, don't think about it so much." Mrs. Weasley stood up, "I'll get you a bowl of lotus root porridge."

She didn't want to tell me the truth.Dumbledore definitely didn't just retire.I looked at her back, and I began to feel that she had become hateful.

Nobody wants to tell me the truth.When Ron and Hermione returned, I jumped at the chance to ask about Dumbledore, but the answer was the same.

They all told me that Dumbledore just retired, but if so, why didn't he look me in the eye and tell me all this?Why do you want to change the topic evasively and continue to deceive me?

I look at the flattering smiles on their faces, I just want to tear it all apart, I want to tell them I know they're lying, I want to see those fake smiles disappear.

Why do they think hiding the truth is a good thing?Did they really think I was a kid?Are they willing to take care of me all the time and imprison me here?

I know I shouldn't think so, and I should be grateful that the Weasleys took me in.But I also want to get my own life back.

After dinner I ran back to my room and locked the door.I took a deep breath and took my phone out of my pocket.I opened the address book according to the method in the diary and dialed the therapist's number.

The phone rang and connected, and the man's deep voice sounded from inside: "Hello?"

"...Mr. Malfoy? I'm Harry Potter."

"I know," he said, "what do you want from me?"

"I—I want to ask you some questions." I took a breath. "My friends don't want to tell me."

"You want to ask something about your memory, don't you?"

"Yes, I don't know if I can—"

"Where are you now?"

"Me? I'm at the Burrow."

"Can you come out? I think we'd better talk in person."

The sound of his breathing is clear and long in the phone, like waves shaking my eardrums.I felt a little more settled, and those intense rages subsided.

"Where do we meet?" I asked. "I can come out the back door."

"I'll wait for you there, be careful not to be discovered by others."

After hanging up the phone, I took the warehouse key out of my pocket.I forgot to put it back when I cleaned it at noon.I opened the door a crack, and the corridor was completely dark, only a light leaked from the cracks in the doors of the rooms on both sides.

I took a shirt and jeans out of the closet and changed into my pajamas.I tiptoed down the hallway and into the warehouse.I removed the box containing the bedding and opened the door carefully.

The backyard was cold and silent at night, the weeds swayed slightly in the wind, and the dew stained my tight jeans.I rubbed my nose and quickened my pace.

When I walked out of the backyard, Draco was already standing there.He was still wrapped in a black windbreaker, with the raised collar covering half of his face.

For some reason, the sight of him loosened the tension in my heart.I