[HP-DH] The second generation of the Big Four

The rainy autumn has passed, and the outside is as cold as a frozen iron plate.As night fell, the residents of the town hid in their warm houses, gathered around the fire, and enjoyed the day's dinner.

A blond man walked briskly on the street. He drank a little wine and hummed an incoherent tune.He turned around the fence on the right and walked leisurely to the front of the apartment. He lowered his head and fumbled in his pocket as he stepped up the steps.

Suddenly, the man stopped moving. He raised his hands and turned around with difficulty.

"It's not easy to find you." The visitor said softly.

The eyes hidden in the darkness were dim, the man swallowed nervously, his calf trembling slightly.Then—relying on the dim streetlights, he finally recognized the person, "Bo——Potter." He stammered, taking a step back, "I don't need any help."

"We need it." Someone pressed the wand against the back of his body, forcing him to move forward.

The man didn't dare to turn his head back, he climbed the steps obediently, a young man with pale blond hair was leaning against the door watching this scene with interest. "Nice to meet you, Professor Lockhart." A playful tone slipped out of the boy's mouth.

Lockhart forced a crying smile on his face, and responded with difficulty, "You—hello, Malfoy." While he was speaking, the door of the apartment was opened from the inside, and a man with long brown hair The witch looked at him with her arms folded, "Come in and talk, how about it?"

The former Defense Against the Dark Arts professor's entire face froze.Lockhart said quickly as they entered the room, "Nice to meet you, dear students. But your professor is a bit tired, if - if only -."

"No if." Draco interrupted him, smirking mysteriously. "We need your help, Professor."

"I can't help you." Lockhart shook his head hastily.

"You are the omnipotent Gilderoy Lockhart, think about the heroic deeds in your book..." The blond boy smiled maliciously, and sat lazily on the sofa, looking Very hypocritical.

Lockhart's pale face looked very disturbed. He kept trying to lean against the wall behind him, but in fact he was unable to retreat. "Books can mislead people." The former Defense Against the Dark Arts professor said cautiously.

"Ok?"

"What I've written is a lie!" cried Lockhart, his heart clenched in terror, leaning limply against the wall. "I just wanted to sell my book—no People love those corny American wizard stories, even if they do beat the werewolf and save the village - but on the cover, it looks terrible. No one likes the main character of the story is a rude stag orc, even if he Saved my life once - so, you see, your professor is no good at all, he just impersonated those people, really, I can't deal with the Dark Lord -"

"Who needs you to deal with Voldemort?" Harry, who had been staring at the poster on the wall, retracted his gaze, turned around, and looked at Gilderoy Lockhart who was about to cry with a smile. "We just want to ask you a question, professor, I promise it's not a big deal." Harry turned around again and came to a poster, "We just want to know how the crystal on your scepter came about."

The room is covered with promotional posters of Lockhart's stage play, and in one of them, Lockhart is holding up the staff, and the crystal on the staff is dazzling and bright.

As long as he is not allowed to return to the wizarding world... The little devils in the room are examining him inexplicably, and Lockhart is still hesitating in his heart. He replied timidly, not daring to hide at all, "I——the vampires were chasing me at the time." , I was terrified, and rolled down the hillside... It was a dark and endless cave, I dare not climb up, the vampire was waiting for me at the entrance of the cave - I had to go into the cave, and then, then - "Lockhart tapped his tongue nervously, "Then I found a tomb, and this crystal was found in the tomb—it's really beautiful, forgive me, I didn't take anything except this—then the deer Orc Jack appeared, and it drove out the vampires and me."

"What about the crystal?"

"Morgan Le Fay Avalon bought it." Lockhart said quickly, "As evidenced by Merlin, I swear that what I said is true—if you don't believe me, you can go to the journal of the "Daily Prophet", she I wear it almost every day..."

No one paid any attention to Lockhart's defense, Hermione almost gasped, "Harry."

"Yes." Harry said softly.

Now, at last, they understood what Mrs. Mailer meant.What the other party wanted to convey before he died was not the content of the "Daily Prophet", but the crystal on Avalon's neck.It was by no means a dazzling jewel, it was exactly what they were looking for, the magic source of Merlin's staff - the Stone of the Witch God.

Although Lockhart is a worthless idiot, he knows how to assess the situation.And what he said was absolutely true.

****

"It seems that that's what we want." Coming out of Lockhart's apartment, they strolled along the quiet and deserted path.The lights are dim and the stars are floating. Since Voldemort's resurrection, such leisure time has disappeared.

The little girl Oprah was resting on Harry's shoulders, and now its length had exceeded Harry's height, wrapping itself around his master layer by layer, extremely clingy.

{I always feel like you're leaving me}

{Why do you say that, my girl? }

{This is the last time I'll shed my skin, soon I'll be falling asleep, you promise to keep me in your pocket all the time}

{Why not, Miss Oprah}

Harry has always been tolerant towards the coquettish and sensitive little girl.He gently stroked the little girl's forehead with his fingertips, the cold scales made Harry think of Nagini, Voldemort's Horcrux...

Crowns, diaries, lockets... Except for the ones he destroyed and fused with Voldemort, the only thing left is himself.

Ron, who was walking beside him, suddenly snorted, "Thanks to Merlin, I finally don't have to read that newspaper anymore—God knows, I almost memorized it!"

"Ronald, are you trying to wake up the nearby Muggles?" Hermione said reproachfully.

"Oh, come on, dear, it's rare for us to relax - don't you, Harry?"

"Indeed." Harry rolled his eyes with a smile. "Forgive him, Min. After all, Ronnie doesn't have a talent for memory."

"Harry Potter!" Ron almost yelled the name through gritted teeth.

"Stop making noise, Weasley." Draco put his hand on Harry's shoulder with a look of disgust, "Your voice is really too loud."

"Okay, you guys!" The red hair threatened angrily, "Wait for our little Tina to trample you to pieces!"

"Then do you want Tina to crush me too?" Hermione raised her eyebrows earnestly, "You're quite capable, Ron."

"How is that possible! Honey, I'm talking about Harry and Malfoy, not you, we should be traveling the world on Tina's back..."

Looking at Ron Harry with a nervous face, he couldn't help laughing, "Draco."

"Huh?" The other party squeezed his hand tightly.

"I'm very happy." Harry said with a smile.

Although—in the not-too-distant future, what he was facing was a life-and-death battle.

small theater

Ron: You two bitches!

Draco: Garrote Curse!

Sirius: Curse my Harry, curse you even if you are Weasley!

Ron: Hermione...

Hermione: Go!

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Calvin Cavin Cavin, ╮(╯▽╰)╭