cycle

Since I started writing this memoir, owls have brought me a snowflake of letters every year, envelopes filled with strange questions, one of which is my question about the Ministry of Magic's surviving Death Eaters after the war. Whether the trial is objective or not, perhaps the readers of these letters have more or less read the "Record of the Wizengamot Trial 1999" hosted by Hermione Weasley and officially released by the Ministry of Magic (my husband said next month Li Trace Bookstore will be subsidized by the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and will offer discounts for the purchase of the entire set of three volumes, interested readers can pay attention).These readers basically have a common doubt, why did the Ministry of Magic easily accept the testimony of many Death Eaters that they "did not kill" many murdered wizards with their own hands, why did they accept such testimony and did not reduce their sentences? "Interest conflicts" or "excessive interference of public opinion in the judiciary"?

Since it is true, it may be hard to fathom - at the time, wizards caught by Voldemort and the Death Eaters were even considered lucky if they were able to get an Avada Kedavra as the end of their lives.After Voldemort killed Mr. Potter and secretly took control of the Ministry of Magic, a large number of Muggle-born wizards and wizards who fiercely resisted the authorities were arrested for various reasons.Wizards who lost their wands and were tortured by all kinds of dark magic viciously were locked in dungeons packed like sardine cans, bleeding wounds that could heal with a healing spell, and simple potions that a seven-year-old could concoct At that time, typhoid fever, which could be cured, became a symbol of the imminent footsteps of death.

"Young wizards, don't wait until you lose your wand to know how to respect the wisdom of your Muggle friends." This sentence was written by Arthur Weasley on the title page of the eighth edition of "Muggle Studies" textbook, and he was the first to deeply understand Its people are not blood theorists who despise Muggles, but wizards who have good intentions towards fellow Muggles, which is really embarrassing.

"Watching the blood that dries up on the ground gradually attracts insects and flies, and watching the wounds that cannot heal gradually fester, my ears are filled with the painful murmurs of my roommate clutching his hot forehead, and the stench of rotting wounds fills my nose , At first we still yelled, but then the voice finally gradually subsided. I watched the people around me die, and the numbness gradually drowned out the sadness. I knew that I would die soon, and I even hoped that this day would come soon. "There is no exaggeration in this short poem that an unknown wizard wrote on the wall of Azkaban Prison with blood. It is true that those wizards were not directly responsible for their deaths, it is also true that they were the direct cause of the deaths of a large number of innocent wizards, and the Law Enforcement Division respected all the facts and faithfully recorded them all.

Compared with the wizards struggling tenaciously in Azkaban and other dungeons, I was too fragile when I was trapped in Malfoy Manor. At least Voldemort did not cause any substantial harm to me at that time. My life even called It's "very secure, and it's not too much to say it's good" (to quote a review in the Daily Prophet after last month's serialization), but I'm still sick after hearing all the bad news Astoria has brought me fall down.

The conversation between me and Astoria was interrupted by Mrs. Malfoy who rushed over that day. Not only did she take Astoria away, but she also demanded in a strong tone that she should not be allowed to approach Draco's bedroom in the future. Do not allow any further communication with me.Their footsteps gradually faded away amidst Astoria's stammering arguments. I leaned against the cold door and stayed motionless for a long time. I only felt a fire crackling and burning in my chest, but it could only Burning in my own throat, not even the room can be damaged in the slightest.

Then I drowsily remember that now I'm not being watched by Senna.The pain caused by the broken nose and the still red and swollen wound on the shoulder suddenly magnified several times for some reason, and even other parts of the body were hurting, and it was difficult for me to even move.However, I still adhered to the principle of not coming when the opportunity is not lost, and struggled to open several drawers of Draco.

This is a waste of time, I think I fainted next to the drawer, probably because of anger, the drawer is full of all kinds of quills, or weird gadgets that spin around on their own, and Several large photo albums, several boxes inlaid with dark gems could not be opened at all, and out of the box that I finally broke open violently, more than a dozen silver snake rings of different sizes and shapes and a small cracked surface rolled out. The glass ball, the glass ball rolled along the carpet at high speed and straight towards the foot of Draco's bed, and shattered into a pool of slag with a crisp sound - even a small piece could cut someone None of the pieces were left for me.

But this completely broken sound gave me a strange satisfaction. In this depressing environment, people's psychology will be more or less distorted-even though I know that no matter how I destroy this room, Restoring it to its original state was a matter of a few swipes of the wand, and I still cried and smashed everything I could get my hands on, from neatly stacked old textbooks to boxes of old quills for some reason I raised my hand and smashed them on the floor and the wall. Because the carpet was too thick, I didn't hear the loud sound as I expected. The soft muffled sound made people even more irritated.

My clear memory probably ends when I smashed half of the things in this room off and on.After a series of chaotic dreams, I finally realized that I was sick, my throat was swollen and my forehead was hot, but my body felt chills one after another, as if my whole body was lying in the ice and snow, but there was a cluster of stubborn flames dancing on my forehead .In the dream, I looked like a little girl, holding the doll in my hand, trying to knock on one door after another with ominous lights, trying to find my father, telling him that I was sick, and this time I must be obedient and take medicine.Those doors opened one by one, and there was a screaming woman who was eaten by a snake, a man whose soul was being sucked by a dementor, a woman who was being tortured by the Cruciatus Curse so much that she could only open her mouth but could not make a sound, and was struck by a green light. The man in the middle and then slowly fell to the office floor like a heavy doll... I slammed every door shut quickly, but the voices of those people and the high-pitched laughter that came through every door But it will never go away, and the sound echoes in the dark hallway with the sound, giving me a splitting headache.

"Okay, okay." I finally heard someone talking, "Liz, let's take medicine..."

"Dad?" I hugged the doll and tried to shout towards the place where the voice came from at the end of the corridor, but found that my throat seemed to be stuffed and it was difficult to make a sound. I wanted to run in that direction, but was horrified to find that my feet were crushed It stuck in place and couldn't move anymore. "Mother?"

"Don't move, be more obedient—" This time I heard it more clearly, and the voice was much younger than my father's.

"Harry?" I tried to speak in that direction with a little hopelessness, "Harry, I heard you."

The voice suddenly disappeared. It was obviously still very close to me just now. In panic, I struggled harder until a pair of very soft hands supported my head. Is it my mother?No, Mom wouldn't have such long nails, they are now deeply embedded in the skin of my arms, I gasped in pain, and they slowly loosened.

I tried hard to drink the potions that poured into my mouth, although they were a bit too hot, the spoon was not very gentle and kept hitting my teeth, the acrid bitterness spread from the throat to the stomach, the crackling feeling It went back from the stomach to the mouth, and then there were two buzzing sounds in my ears. My ears must be emitting one small white smoke ring after another.This should be regarded as the potion I drank most often and resisted the most when I was a child. I vaguely recalled that although my father always put a small bowl in front of me with a straight face and let me drink it myself, but at that time I understand the simple truth that a sick child can be more coquettish, so until he wrinkled his brows into several wrinkles, went to the magically sealed locker in the kitchen and took out a few salted plums and stuffed them into my mouth. Will not take medicine honestly (my husband often uses this to argue that our daughter's habit of not taking medicine without fennel root is my inheritance, what are you kidding, he is the one who likes fennel root).

I bit the sour-sweet plum meat in my mouth, and I instantly felt a kind of sheltered safety. I was completely relaxed and I kissed the woman who was hugging me affectionately. Her body stiffened and she let go immediately. Hands sank the back of my head into the soft pillow.

Then at last my dreams were free of tragic scenes and shrill laughter, and I dreamed that I was back at Hogwarts, sitting in an old baggy and creaking armchair, enjoying the warmth of the fireplace. Listen to Hermione nagging to several other boys.

"Tomorrow is the OWL exam!" Hermione slammed the book on the table, "You guys are still playing Quidditch on the court all night!"

"Hermione, you must have confused your studies." Neville, who was sitting across from me, smiled and raised his head to look at her. "Tomorrow is my birthday, and the OWL exam is over long ago."

"That's right, I'm going to celebrate my birthday soon, isn't it summer vacation?" Harry sat beside Neville, and echoed, "Hermione, don't send me any more planners after the exam."

Hermione looked angry and aggrieved, and shouted at them with her hips on her hips: "Is there no one else willing to listen to what Professor McGonagall said in class? The exam is postponed, what's the matter with you? Alice, has the exam been postponed?" ?”

"Uh." I opened my mouth only to find that my mind was in a mess: Is the exam postponed?But why do I seem to remember my grades?Did Professor McGonagall say that?No, hasn't Professor McGonagall gone to St. Mungo's and hasn't come back yet?What day is it now?

"I—" I answered reluctantly, looking into Hermione's smoldering eyes, "I just know that if Harry and Neville are having a birthday, then I'm having a birthday too."

I just finished saying this sentence, and found that time seemed to stand still for an instant, and everything around me was still, even the fire in the fireplace seemed to freeze, accompanied by "You——were also born at the end of July!" With a roar, the floor of the entire tower was torn apart like a picture, Voldemort's pale hand crawled out of the crack, and was about to grab my throat at an extremely fast speed.I stepped back in panic, only to find that I was the only one who could move, and the person I was talking to was just a crude wax figure with a distorted smile on his face.

Just as I was desperately looking for the wand in my pocket but found it was empty, I looked up and found that I was not in Hogwarts, the stars above my head were shining brightly in the velvet sky, and Dumbledore was standing not far away Chu smiled at me kindly: "Son, what happened?"

"Ah?" I looked around in a daze, it was like an abandoned village, with sparse houses surrounding an old war memorial, and only a few cabins were lit.

"Harry and I were just talking. I told Harry and Neville something you don't need to know right now. I don't want you to think that I asked them to keep you secret out of distrust, but you seem to be distracted." He said so, but he and I were the only ones walking in the dark street, "I don't want you to have any unnecessary misunderstandings with your friends because of this."

"Why?" I asked awkwardly, feeling that this conversation seemed a little familiar, but I couldn't remember where it happened. "Something about me?"

"Well..." he replied, "I think...you'll find out for yourself someday, Miss Alice."

"Sometimes right?" I felt like something was coming out of me.

"A suitable time." He blinked his sky-blue eyes at me, and just as I was trying to grab the cuff of his robe for proof, his figure gradually faded and became transparent, and finally disappeared at my fingertips For nothingness.

I suddenly sat up from the bed, feeling as if my heart was about to jump out of my throat, and I had no time to care about the strong bitter taste that remained in my mouth.Dumbledore would always assume the worst - "all eggs don't go in one basket" - and he's figured it out!I felt my back sweating from excitement and my hands were shaking uncontrollably, he thought—thought that Voldemort would threaten my mother and me to threaten my father who had always been the link between the pure-blood family and Dumbledore, let The teachers and students of Hogwarts are in a situation of fighting each other, and he can easily get out of the field and watch; he thought that Voldemort would use my close relationship with other people to explore those unknown secrets, so I was the only one who could not participate in those conversations , only I have to remain ignorant of the most critical part - so what exactly does the end of July mean?Why did Voldemort say Dumbledore hid me?What Harry said to me at the Weasleys before must be implying that if he and Neville die, I will take over for them and continue to complete the tasks left by Dumbledore. Voldemort said that I must be with Harry and Neville Killed by him...Harry and Neville were chased and killed by Voldemort because of the prophecy. Could it be said that the so-called son of the prophecy... actually included me?

I don't know the first prophecy, but I know the second prophecy of "burning together and destroying together", so Dumbledore won't let me go into exile with Harry, if I am also the son of prophecy, as long as there is one of the three of us It's safe, the three of us must be safe.Dumbledore, who thought that Voldemort would capture me, must have thought that he would learn about it from me sooner or later. Would he have any other arrangements?Or is everything that happened now in his expectation?

There was the sound of rummaging through the curtains, and I calmed down a bit, realizing that there were still people in the room, and I also realized that I was not sleeping on the small sofa.When I opened the curtain and saw Draco's back, I felt as if a basin of cold water had been poured on the hope that was still burning vigorously just now-no matter how many things Dumbledore planned, he was already dead, so easily fell due to betrayal. After getting off the Astronomy Tower, he would never have been able to predict what would happen. If he continued to live according to his expectations...everything would be different.

The room has been restored to its original state. I squinted my eyes and looked at the calendar on the table. So many days have passed.Now a half-packed black box was spread out on the floor, and at a glance I saw Slytherin's silver-green tie and an envelope written in green ink on the top, stamped with the Hogwarts letter seal.

Draco was looking for something, he was pressing his face on the floor to look under the wardrobe, his blond hair was messed up, he had been looking for something for a long time - there was no need to call the house elf Curse, I felt strange for a while, no matter what, if you ask Senna to come, it will only take half a minute to find it, right?

It turned out that he was looking for gold Galleons. I watched him carefully receive the golden Galleons in his pocket and felt a little funny. The young master of the Malfoy family would cherish money sometimes. It seems that Voldemort's exploitation of his family is far from enough. It is far more than simply occupying the ancestral manor.Although I was gloating, I still felt a little envious when I saw the neatly folded robes and new books in the box. If nothing happened, I must be discussing with my mother to go to Diagon in her spare time. Lane bought all the things, looking forward to spending the last student time at Hogwarts with Harry, and working hard for the NEWT exam with Hermione, and lent them the organized notes while disgusting the boys for not working hard to review... …

The badge of the President of the Boys’ Student Council, I laughed mockingly after Draco turned around, and I couldn’t wait to wear it while I was still at home. This should be one of the honors bestowed on him by Voldemort. This is the first badge ever to be stained with the blood of a former headmaster.

"My dad won't let you go." I whispered to him as he leaned down to meet my gaze. "You're going to face more resistance than Umbridge did."

"You're still here, how can he not let me go?" He sneered, "He will only obediently listen to the Dark Lord and become a puppet headmaster, what you self-proclaimed righteous Order of the Phoenix hate most is betrayal, don't you? Just look at your eyes now—do you think there is any difference between your father and me in the eyes of those people?"

"When I'm not around, Senna will be responsible for monitoring your every move, and so is my mother. Don't think about smashing my things, and don't think about escaping." He stretched out his hand to support the edge of the bed , obviously in a good mood because of my glaring just now, I shrank back because of his approach, and when I wanted to leave between his arms, he grabbed my hair. "The Dark Lord just said that he won't let you die, and there are countless ways to make you die, understand?"

"Voldemort still doesn't trust you, tsk." I reached out and poked his student union president badge, "Even though he saw you cast a death curse on me, he still won't let you stay by his side He does things, but makes you go back to Hogwarts and become a target for angry teachers and students - you will end up no better than Umbridge, Cornelius Fudge at least regards Umbridge as a A trusted subordinate...not a dispensable servant."

The smugness on his face froze, and I felt a sharp sting as I tightened my fingers around my hair, but I continued to stare at him viciously.

"I'll be back for Christmas." He finally let go of my hair and returned to his mean smile. "Who would have thought? So one day you will actually be able to spend Christmas at my house."