hp daffodils that never die

Eight

The blessings others gave to the Snapes were to Harry the curse that hurt him the most.

That's why he's ahead of everyone else.

He was a little tired after leaving the reception, and he wanted to go to a quiet place.

He didn't want to go back to his home, because it was full of Snape's breath.

The book Snape sent, the materials Snape compiled for him, Snape and his kiss.

Maybe he should go back to Grimmauld Place?

No, no, although Kricht doesn't talk much, he is afraid that he will be pulled up by Sirius tomorrow to ask questions.

With a twinkle in his eye, maybe I can go back to Godric's Hollow.

Harry hasn't been back to Godric's Hollow for a long time, although this was his original home, although he always carries all the keys there.

That home is warm and sad.

The iron door pushed open by Harry creaked with rusty obscurity.

The garden, which hadn't been tended for nearly two years, was overgrown with weeds, and a mottled mouse hurried past in the dark.

The originally gorgeous flowers were crowded and robbed by weeds, lost their most beautiful colors, and turned into a bunch of dead bones.

This was the second time Harry saw such a messy courtyard.

After Sirius was released from prison, he brought his famous 13-year-old self here.

The first time I saw it was even more broken than it is now.

Collapsed walls, overturned clods, and only half of the iron gate left.

At the beginning, he still despised this place. After all, he was already quite wealthy at that time. He wanted to buy a beautiful villa instead of renovating this dilapidated house.

Harry smiled. If Sirius hadn't been determined, he wouldn't have stepped into that dilapidated house as a young bastard.

The old key unlocked the colorless door lock, and a smell of corruption unique to wooden houses rushed over, along with some dust visible to the naked eye.

In fact, for Harry, this house is not only a memory of him and his parents, but also a memory of him and Draco.

Harry walked across the white-clothed living room to his bedroom.

The distance was not long, but he walked very slowly, because his eyes were always flashing back fragments of his past.

With the parents, with Sirius, and... Draco.

Harry tried to open the door to his own bedroom, but couldn't, it was locked.

After trying all the keys he had brought, Harry gave up and had to try his luck in his parents' room to see if he could get in and sleep, because he really didn't want to spend the night on the sofa.

Fortunately, he opened it.

Harry lifted the white cloth and fell directly on the bed.

so tired.

The morning sun woke up the disheveled little prince on the bed.

Harry got up and walked to the bathroom, looking in the mirror and straightening his wrinkled suit as much as possible.

The experience of being an actor in his early years made him develop the good habit of paying attention to his image whenever and wherever.

Harry looked in the mirror and frowned at the stubble on his chin. Unfortunately, there was no razor that was still sharp and usable in this long-abandoned home.

He sighed and walked out.

This home made him extremely peaceful, perhaps because of his body's memory, he was deeply impressed by the atmosphere here.

Draco, who hadn't seen him for a long time, still stood in front of the bed in a cool manner, looking at him with a half-smile.

"How are you doing, Potter, I heard he got married."

Of course he was talking about Snape.

"Oh, yes, I was the first person to send blessings at their reception."

Harry parted his lips, a smile that didn't reach his eyes.

Draco walked over to Harry and took him into his arms.

Soft comfort.

"I will always be at your side."

Harry glanced at Draco, feeling warm in his heart, even though he knew that Draco had long since ceased to exist, and what was holding him was just a "imitation" he had imagined.

"I want to go back to my room, where we have so many memories."

Holding hands for the first time, kissing for the first time, eating the forbidden fruit for the first time...

"...You don't have a key, don't go, I'm right here." Draco panicked.

"?"

Harry was puzzled, he felt weird, more weird.

Yes, more.

When he approached this house last night, he discovered that hidden sense of fear. He felt that there must be something in this house that he was afraid of. When he was at the door of his room,

Especially.

He pushed Draco away and walked to his bedroom door, testing all the keys again.

Undoubtedly, it was not opened.

Harry hammered the nameplate on the door angrily, but found that the sound was wrong.

He approached and knocked on the door sign, and there was some echo.I touched the edge of the doorplate, and sure enough, there was a gap, but I couldn't pick it open with my fingers.

Harry hurried to the kitchen and drew a thin knife from the cupboard.

He pried open the door plate and found a key and a note behind the door plate.

On the note was the familiar handwriting: "You will be miserable."

Harry frowned. He felt that the note might be unfounded, because he felt that nothing could make him suffer any more.

He inserted the key into the door lock, twisted it, and with a "click", the door lock opened.

Just before he was about to go through the door, Draco took his hand, his blue-gray eyes fixed on him.

"Are you sure you want to go in, Harry, even if you're going to be miserable."

Harry smiled. "I'm in no pain."

Then he walked into the room with Draco's struggling eyes.

But this house is different from his parents', it is very messy, just like a typhoon passing through.

The walls were splashed with various colors of paint, with a decadent aesthetic feeling.

And the shreds of paper were all over the ground, and all of those shreds of paper said "I hate you".

Harry picked up one of them, and it was still in the familiar font.

Who do I hate?Harry was puzzled, his inquiring eyes swept across the bedroom, as if he wanted to find some clues, but he was slightly startled when he touched a picture frame on the desk.

That was the first picture of him and Draco together.

But that photo was torn apart and glued again, because it had obvious tape marks.

Harry wanted to get the picture frame, but felt stepping on something as he walked towards the desk.

He took it back and found it was a diary that recorded his and Draco's daily life.

He had been looking for this diary for a long time, and thought he had lost it, and was sad for a while because it was the testimony of his love with Draco after all.

Harry stroked the yellowed diary around the edges, and slowly opened it.

The author has something to say: Countdown to the end: 2, the next chapter will end

The deepest line is about to be uncovered, although it's really easy to guess.

emmm tomorrow (17th) may not update hhhhh, but try