[SSHP] End of life

There was no news for a while, neither did the Order of the Phoenix, nor did Kreacher.Because their whereabouts were exposed, none of them dared to go out again.Through the window, they could see that there were more Death Eaters patrolling outside. These scumbags didn't even hide their identities anymore, sitting on the bench by the door every day, staring at their door blatantly.

During the long wait, the calendar for the rest of August was turned over day by day.On the first day of September, Harry lay on his back on the rug by the fireplace, thinking about how time had gotten so long.It had only been a few days since Ron could have been found, perhaps because the train to Hogwarts had left without them on it.It made him feel weird and uncomfortable.

During the days waiting for Kreacher, Harry finished reading Dumbledore's biography.He had already made mental preparations, but the preparations had no effect, and he was still trembling with anger.After turning the last page, he threw the book into the fire with impatience.

This certainly doesn't make such biographies never appear in the wizarding world anymore, nor does it make Dumbledore's reputation even one iota better among those who don't like him.But doing so would make him feel a lot better.

He was used to being suspicious of Dumbledore a lot of the time.Although he firmly believes that Dumbledore can guide him to finally kill Voldemort, he still feels untrustworthy because he doesn't know much.That book was too true, and Dumbledore concealed too many things from him. If you simply believed in that book, you would get the most direct answer.

Did Dumbledore ever love him?He never said it.He just said he loves anyone.So is the effort these days worthwhile?He is still acting, doubting constantly, yet still acting unwaveringly.Is everything he has done so far because Dumbledore believes in him, or because he wants to do it himself?Or is it because he has been surrounded by the halo of the savior for too long, causing him to get used to doing what the savior should do?

Harry was lying on the old rug in front of the hearth, the flames flickering beside him.Now he can't ask others for answers when he is confused, everything depends on himself.

Why do people always grow up?When he was a child, his biggest wish was to sleep in a comfortable bed and eat a satisfying meal.Even during his years at Hogwarts, he didn't want to think about it any more.If he doubts something, he doesn't understand something, he can ask his elders, and then believe it without thinking.If he hated someone, he could fight them outright.If he's upset, he can yell.But now, he had to do what he didn't want to do, and bring the partner he didn't want to drag along.For him, the parting from all the things he likes came too early. Isn't this what life should be like, should it be parting after parting?

That being said, it seemed that only Lupine, Peter and Snape were left among those people back then.The Gryffindor foursome who were once so dazzling and high-spirited, and the Slytherin who grew up from the darkness, unfortunately, Harry also couldn't get the answer he wanted from any of them.Even they themselves are mysteries.

If even Dumbledore doubted, who else could he trust?Harry played with the little golden snitch, and the question now was not whether he would believe it, but whether he would.It's not a relationship, it's a choice.

Of course he decided to trust Dumbledore.It was a no-brainer - even if he had read that cow's biography of Dumbledore a hundred times.He didn't know what Dumbledore looked like in his heart, because Dumbledore was too complicated and profound.All he knew was that his headmaster was a respectable elder, and no biography could tarnish that alone.

At this moment, Ron yelled in the living room, followed by hurried footsteps.Harry yelled an answer as he ran for the stairs.He was greeted by Ron's ecstatic face, and he climbed up to find Mundungus lying in the middle of the living room, tightly bound.Kreacher was standing next to his head, and Hermione was doing a very indecent frisk search.She had just retrieved Mundungus' wand from his trousers pocket when Harry ran up.

Harry laughed.He'd never thought Hermione could do such a thing, and his friends could always surprise him.

"Kreacher is late, Master Harry," said Kreacher, apologetically but in a very proud tone. "This wretched man is like a mouse. He keeps running around in tunnels, and Kreacher took a lot of trouble." It took a while to catch him."

"Well done, Kreacher," Harry praised.Mundungus remained silent until Harry kicked him and realized he had passed out.

They tried to wake him up in many ways, and Kreacher even took a frying pan from the kitchen and slapped Mundungus on the head hard, and Harry stopped him with an angry and funny voice. Ten minutes later, Mundungus' eyes were still closed, and if Harry hadn't known, he would have thought he was dead.

"A Cruciatus Curse will wake him up," said Harry. "It's probably the spell I'm most familiar with."

As soon as the words fell, Mundungus' eyes suddenly opened. "Where is this?" he yelled at Harry, pretending to have just woken up.

"You don't recognize this house?" Harry sneered. "You didn't even know whose home it was when you looted everything of value you could find here?"

Mundungus looked around again pretendingly.

"Oh, the Blacks," he said, with a very sickly smile on his face. "Of course, it's yours now."

Kreacher rushed forward and hit Mundungus on the head with a frying pan.Before the three of Harry stopped shouting, they raised the pot and knocked him again.

"Tell him to stop!" Mundungus yelled, flinching.

"Unless you tell the whereabouts of a golden locket among those stolen goods." Harry said coldly, motioning Kreacher to show the locket to Mundungus, "otherwise I can't guarantee that Kreacher will not Will replace the pot with a kitchen knife."

"Is it worth a lot?" Mundungus asked.His eyes looked at the cauldron in Kreacher's hand in horror.

Kreacher held the pot, his thin arms trembling slightly as if he was overwhelmed.Its eyes were wide with excessive anger and excitement.

"It's worth a hundred bastards like you," said Ron. "You must have sold it. Harry, come and hear how much he sold it for, and decide to give him a few Cruciatus Curses."

"I'm giving it away, there's no way!" Mundungus shouted, "That old hag who looks like a toad wants the locket, how dare I not give it to her! She said she would fine me! He also said that he would send me to Azkaban!"

The man who was finally caught brought such news, and Harry felt darkness in front of him.If it was sold to someone else, as long as it wasn't a Death Eater, there would be a solution, but that old hag—

"Who is that old hag?" He asked with the last chance of luck.

"Ministry of Magic." Mundungus added, after a moment's thought, "short and fat, with a pink bow."

Harry didn't realize his gaffe until a few seconds after the wand fell on Mundungus' face.He bent down to pick up his wand, which had tumbled to the floor, noticing that his hands were cold and shaking violently with terror.The scar on the back of his right hand seemed to be burning hot again, taking him back to that nightmarish school year.

In that year, he lost his closest godfather.All the bad news starts with that school year. Once the butterfly's wings start to flap, sooner or later, there will be a violent storm on the continent far away from the ocean.

Both Hermione and Ron were silent, and the expressions on their faces seemed to freeze.Harry thought for a moment, took Mundungus' wand from Hermione and snapped it in two.Mundungus screamed.

"Kreacher, take him upstairs to the utility room. Don't let him escape until we're done. Do with him what you will, but keep him alive."

"Harry, you have to think about it. Maybe it will take us a few months," said Hermione.That being said, her dislike for Mundungus was clearly written on her face.

"I know." Harry glanced at Mundungus, "But such a guy who is more cowardly than Wormtail, if he is released and then captured by the mysterious man, it may not be more than a few months. We never had another chance to complete the mission."

Kreacher bowed, clearly pleased that Harry had left the Black family foe in his hands.He dragged Mundungus all the way down the corridor, and Harry could clearly hear the sound of Mundungus's head or shoulders, or any bone in his body banging against the steps.

Although a little sympathetic, deep down in his heart he didn't feel that there was anything wrong with it.

******

Because of the bad news brought by Mundungus, the three were almost silent all afternoon.In the evening, Kreacher prepared a sumptuous dinner for them, probably because they enjoyed a long-lost decent meal, and they seemed to have struggled at least halfway up from the most hopeless abyss.

"It's up to us now," said Hermione. "From tomorrow, we'll be waiting in front of the Department of Magic for the staff to go to work. We won't be able to find the locket if we don't monitor Umbridge thoroughly. where, let alone get it."

Harry nodded.

Ever since he came to No. 12 Grimmauld Place the next morning, and guessed that Hermione and Ron probably held hands before going to bed, Harry couldn't get rid of the accompanying loneliness.He made many excuses, and finally persuaded his friends to let him sleep on the floor by the kitchen fireplace.

He didn't choose Sirius' bedroom, and re-locked the bedroom door.So was Regulus' room.There were a lot of books in Hermione's beaded pouch, and Harry had been laying them all out on the table these days, flipping through them one by one.

"Of course I know it's wrong to steal books from the library, but they're useful," said Hermione. "When we win the war, I'll give them back, and I'll give Mrs. Pince a good apology."

Until the catastrophe at the end of sixth year, Harry had never imagined that he, too, could seriously read a book.Many students think that reading books can't make them stronger, spells need to be used repeatedly to become familiar, and only in actual combat can they gain more experience, and he is no exception.Young people always have boundless energy, and he would rather spend a whole day playing Quidditch in the sun than sitting motionless in the room reading.

Harry hugged his knees and leaned against the fireplace, the firelight dancing sad colors on the old carpet.The room is too silent, and all loneliness is magnified several times, even dozens of times.Harry sighed, let go of his knees, and let himself slip on the carpet.

He lay down for a while, sighed, and stretched his limbs vigorously.Then he got up and started rummaging among the books.The books he had read and the books he hadn't read were divided into two piles. Within a month, Harry had roughly browsed the books about Horcruxes, but couldn't find anything.The rest of the books seemed boring. All the books Hermione brought had been screened repeatedly, and of course there was not a single novel in them.

Harry arranged all the books he hadn't read side by side on the floor in four rows and seven columns.He stood up and took a few steps back, closed his eyes and sat down on his knees, groping and crawling over.He stretched out his hands, touched all the books, and decided to read the one that felt the best first.

There is a book on the left that feels very special.I don't know if it's a different touch or because it's thicker - if you ask him to be honest, he'll say it's more like a soul guide.After patiently retrieving each book with both hands, Harry moved to the front left again.He found the book he was looking at just now without any difficulty, and then opened his eyes.The light was a bit harsh, so he blocked the light with his hand, squinted his eyes for a while to get used to it.

Harry stood up and rubbed his knees, then sat back by the fireplace and carefully looked at the book in his hand.The cover of the book was a very heavy red hard shell, and the words on the cover, which Harry couldn't quite understand, were ancient runes.Only Hermione read this kind of book, her grades in ancient runes were very good, but Harry and Ron were very bad.

Harry thought for a while, but didn't put away the scattered books on the floor.After all, reading is not the same as looking for guilt. If he can't understand this book, he will choose another one.He opened the book and glanced at it. Fortunately, except for the cover, most of the content inside was written in English, and he could put away the rest of the book.

Harry put the red book aside, put away the books that were lying on the floor, and put them with the unread books.The red book was thick, and Harry didn't think he'd need another book for entertainment for at least a month.Luckily Hermione wasn't here, she treated books better than her own hair, and would snap at each time Harry or Ron tossed a book from side to side.Hermione had been a little nervous all this while, and if Hermione saw him scatter books like this, Harry was sure he'd be nagged about until it was time to go to bed.

Harry sat down against the fireplace and sighed again.After waiting for a long time, hoping that the matter could be solved easily and safely, he felt an indescribable sense of repulsion to the rough road again.But even if they don't want to, they still have to go out the next day, and they have to think of other ways.

Harry opened the book, struggling to read the preface.Words lay flat on the page, each one he knew, but his mind refused to put their meanings into sentences.Harry made himself a pot of coffee, not knowing what else he could do if he couldn't ease his fears about the future by reading a book.

He was completely unaware that he had been reading all night.By the time he realized it, it was already dawn.

Harry stood up and looked at the magic clock again.After confirming that he read it correctly, he gave a wry smile and walked out of the kitchen.Ron and Hermione had already woken up and were sitting on the sofa without a word, when they saw Harry coming up the stairs, and they both looked at him.Kreacher was not there, and Mundungus was in the utility room, quietly, perhaps asleep.

"Okay," said Harry, trying to sound as relaxed as possible, "now we need to eat and get the locket quickly. Kreacher will cook us a good meal when we make it back Come to celebrate."

Ron shrugged and stood up.Hermione picked up her beaded pouch and smiled at Harry.

"Not today. We have to make some preparations. If we don't use magic, it will probably take a long time."

******

Two hours later, three people walked out of the barber shop.Harry's stomach protested intermittently, and he stood outside an optician's shop, watching Hermione deftly communicate with the clerk as if she herself was short-sighted and had bought glasses many times.

Ron's striking red hair was dyed blond and looked unspeakably weird.Hermione slathered foundation on his face to hide his freckles.Her own hair was cut short, shedding the bush-like look entirely.While cutting their hair short, the three of them laughed happily for a while.Harry felt that this was probably the happiest time of the month.

"I can't believe that Muggles put this on their eyeballs!"

"Shut up, Ron," said Hermione, who was trying to help Harry get his black contact lenses on.

They walk the streets naked, taking pictures of themselves in shop windows.Harry thought he couldn't believe that the light brown-haired, black-eyed man was Harry Potter.

"Well?" Hermione's tone was a little smug. "Sometimes Muggle things work better than spells. At least no one can change your hair back to the way it used to be with any spells, Ron."

Ron nodded: "I just want to get what we want from that toad|toad as soon as possible. To be honest, I'm not used to seeing you wearing glasses. I almost called Harry to you several times just now. "

"Not everyone who wears glasses is called Harry." Hermione shot Ron a glare through her flat glasses.She had already asked the clerk about the surrounding environment, and now she was leading the two of them to turn left and turn left again, and then walked into a bookstore.

Harry was a little curious, he had never been in a bookstore like this.It's a pity that he didn't have time to look carefully, because the window seat on the second floor was facing the entrance of the Ministry of Magic. Even though it was not working hours, there were still many people walking in and out there.

"We need to find some people who don't look very talkative, so it's not easy to reveal. As for Umbridge, she can't walk to work, and the homes of senior officials are connected to the Floo network, I don't believe it —oh Merlin!"

Harry looked away from the bookshelf and looked downstairs.He was surprised to find Umbridge standing there gesticulating, her outlandish attire constantly drawing sideways glances from passers-by.She's wearing her pink bow, a fur waistcoat woven into a giant cat's face, and on her chest a gold locket is glinting in the sun.