[SSHP] End of life

"Thank you for letting us stay, Mrs Weasley," said Hermione.They had boarded the train, closed the doors, and the red steam locomotive made a noise and was about to leave.She leaned out of the window to talk to Mrs. Weasley, the dense raindrops kept beating on her head.

"Yes, thank you for everything, Mrs Weasley," said Harry.His face was pale and his hands and feet were cold.He kept moving his stiff fingers.

Since the end of the Quidditch World Cup, he hadn't recovered from the fear for a long time, and even in broad daylight he could recall the last vision of Sirius, Dumbledore and Snape in a trance.The eagle-shaped patron saint almost became his last straw.If it wasn't for the sudden improvement in his Occlumency, he would probably be screaming in his sleep every night.

The train moved, and they retreated to their compartments to change into a dry suit.The train kept going north, and the rain was getting heavier and harder.The sky was pitch black, the windows were covered with a hazy mist, and the lights were on in the compartment.Towards noon the food trolley came down the aisle, and Harry bought a good deal of food for everyone to share.He was chewing a handful of Bibi's multi-flavored beans, listening to Seamus and Ron discussing the Quidditch World Cup enthusiastically, while he looked down at a book.

"Harry, I always feel that you have changed." Hermione said, she was reading a book of "Standard Spells, Level [-]". "You've been in a trance lately."

"Is this what you mean?" said Harry, holding up his book to Hermione. "I thought it was what you wanted to see, and you've been working on it for three years."

"God," replied Hermione, "of course I want you to do your homework, but if you don't even discuss Quidditch - it makes me feel like you're not you."

"That's right, I don't want a second know-it-all by my side," Ron interrupted.

Harry shook his head feebly, feeling a consuming anxiety.Everyone in this world is still living ignorantly. He doesn't want to lose, and he doesn't want his victory to be accompanied by loss, but there is nothing he can do.He shook his head, took off his glasses and shrank his body, imitating Snape's way and buried his face in his hands.

He was used to losing Sirius, as if the pain of missing a piece in his body had been with him since that day, day after day, and night after day, gradually eroding into a void that couldn't be filled.These holes can no longer swallow him any more.But he couldn't get used to everyone dying.Those people lost their lives because of him, and he hid, wandered, and lived in order to complete Dumbledore's mission, trying to convince them that they were not for him but for their common purpose, but he knew that those people were Voldemort's purpose to get rid of them. The victim he killed conveniently.They are pure blood.They were affected—they didn't have to die.He couldn't carry any more guilt, unless he died with them before he chewed on the pain of loss again.

He was going to die anyway.

"Potter, are you finally going to give up your limelight and bury yourself in the ground before then?" said a drawling voice.Harry looked up to put on his glasses and saw Draco Malfoy standing in the doorway, with Crabbe and Goyle behind him.Malfoy's height hadn't changed much, but two of his squires seemed to have grown at least a foot more this summer.Those gray eyes studied Harry's face carefully, with a hint of thoughtfulness and scrutiny.

"Never mind, Malfoy. None of us asked you to come here." Harry said slowly, looking away from Malfoy's gray eyes that hadn't changed much whether he was 14 or 17, which made him despair , "Or shut up and eat a cake, or go back to your own cubicles."

"You'd better eat shit, Malfoy!" said Ron.

"Why... you want to participate too, Weasley? You also want to try your hand and add glory to your family? You know, it has something to do with money... If you win, you have money Buy a few new textbooks instead of tinkering..."

"What are you talking about?" Ron asked angrily.

"Would you like to go?" Malfoy repeated. "I suppose you would, Potter? You never miss a chance to show off, do you?"

"Either explain what you said, or walk away, Malfoy," said Hermione impatiently, looking up from Standard Spells, Level [-].

A smile of delight flitted across Malfoy's pale face.

"The Triwizard Tournament. People will always die in this competition. It has not been held for a century. It is decided to hold it again at Hogwarts this year. I won't participate. I don't want to die early!" Harry said impatiently , "Minister Fudge and Secretary Bagman sat in front of us at the Quidditch World Cup. Unless I'm deaf if I can't hear - is there anything else to say now? No eat cake or get out !” He pointed at the cake and repeated viciously.

Malfoy glared at the crucible-shaped cakes stacked to the ceiling on the table, and gave Harry a nasty poo.He gestured to Crabbe and Goyle, and all three disappeared together.

Ron stood up and slammed the cubicle door so hard that the glass on the door shattered.

"Ron!" Hermione scolded.She pulled out her wand and said in a low voice: "Restore as before!" The pieces of broken glass automatically joined together into a complete piece of glass and returned to the door frame.

Harry closed his eyes, trying to clear himself of agitation.He almost begged to see Sirius, wanted to see Snape.But he can't tell Sirius.He couldn't put Sirius in danger by worrying about his own lack of support.Then he had only Snape now.He could allow Snape to unleash his hatred for his father on him, if only he could say something to him and prove he was alive.He grabbed a piece of cake and wanted so badly to smash it on the ground or crush it into a paste, but he couldn't explain to his friends why he was so upset.

Harry's bad mood continued until he got off the train. Fortunately, everyone was too rained to lift their heads, let alone talk.He followed the team to the carriage in a daze, and the Thestrals in front of the carriage were also drenched by the heavy rain, appearing a little irritable.He even forgot to dodge Peeves' water polo when he ran into the foyer. When the shadow of the water polo was cast on his head, he reflexively dodged to the side, pulled out his wand, pointed upwards and shouted: "Swoon, faint!" land!"

Peeves nimbly dodged his spell, and threw the last water balloon at his head, sticking out his tongue and whizzing away. "Harry, what's wrong with you?" Ron asked in horror.

"Because of You-Know-Who's sign? Harry has been a little nervous these days. Harry, don't put too much pressure on yourself," said Hermione.Harry flashed her a grateful smile, acquiescing.

As Harry walked through the double doors into the Great Hall, all his thoughts were focused on a black figure.The auditorium is still so splendid, and it has been decorated for the new semester banquet.Hundreds of candles floated above the table, illuminating gold plates and goblets.The four long college tables were already filled with chattering students.There was a fifth table at the top of the auditorium, and the staff sat one by one on one side of the table, facing their students.Snape sat next to the astronomy professor Sinista, his hair still greasy and his face sallow.At this moment, Harry's irritability and anxiety were miraculously calmed down, and his heartbeat suddenly eased.Amidst the noise, he was strangely quiet.

He and Snape looked across the air, realizing that since he left school for the holidays, there had never been a better moment than when he saw Snape in real life.Not weak, not dying, and even staring at him, this scene seems like a lifetime away.Harry glared back at him too, but a small smile couldn't be restrained from the corners of his mouth.

His presence is a comfort.He can calm him, and only he can.

******

With the start of the new semester, Harry's class schedule has not changed.Squeezing some babo tuber pus in the morning, Ron kept complaining about why they don't have too many pimples. People who don't have too many pimples have to suffer from nausea. Handling materials for people with pimples. Can't complain anymore.In the afternoon, when he went to the North Tower to attend Professor Trelawney's divination class, he finally regained some energy and began to wonder if their classes this semester might still be tea leaves or the powder left at the bottom of the Turkish coffee pot.

Harry and Ron came to the top of the stepladder and found that everything here was the same as before.They made their way through the mess of calico seats and poufs, and sat down at the little round table that had been there.Looking at the blinded windows, Harry regretted a little that he had chosen the same lessons as last time.The entanglement came again: if he chose the same class, wouldn't the future development be too outrageous?Would things change if he didn't take the same classes?Can he afford the change?Can he afford no change?This kind of entanglement has been surviving in his mind for several weeks, and every time he encounters a choice, he can't help thinking about it.

"Hello." Professor Trelawney's ethereal, ethereal voice suddenly came from behind Harry, startling him in deep thought.He turned his head and almost bumped into the huge glasses on her nose.She was staring down at Harry now, with a tragic expression on her face - the expression she always saw Harry.Her strings of beads, necklaces, and bracelets glistened as usual in the firelight.

"You have something on your mind, my dear," she said to Harry, staring at the angle of the quill and the parchment in Harry's hand. Soul. I regret to tell you that your fears are not unfounded. I see that the days ahead of you are full of hardships... very difficult..." She raised her wand suddenly and tapped Harry on the forehead.Images gradually appeared in the crystal ball on the table.Harry always thought that the crystal ball in the classroom was a display for tricks, and both he and Ron stared at the crystal ball in surprise.

Professor Trelawney's voice gradually dropped to a whisper. "One big and one small, two souls. It's you, but it's not you. I saw the snake shape, winding forward, almost overlapping - the fog in front of you is cut by a man, but it depends on a lot... I can't see the end..."

Ron rolled his eyes at Harry, who looked at Trelawney in shock.But she didn't say another word, and flitted past them, sitting in a large winged armchair in front of the fire, facing the class.Ron said, "A man? She's talking about yourself?"

Harry didn't answer. "Honey, it's time for us to study the stars." Professor Trelawney said, looking at Ron with dissatisfaction, "The movement of the planets and the mysterious signs they show can only be understood by those who understand the rules." .The fate of man can be deciphered by the radiant light of the planets, which intermingle with each other..."

Harry's mind wandered elsewhere, however.He looked at the crystal ball that had become transparent again, and couldn't help but think of what she said to him just now: "One big and one small, two souls. It's you, but it's not you. Winding forward, almost overlapping—— —”

Harry had long since come to the conclusion that her fortune-telling tricks were nothing more than a fluke of guesswork and some sleight of hand.But her prophecy is true, she really has this ability in her blood.Although what she taught them in class was mixed with some sensational elements, most of them were the experience handed down by ancient fortune tellers.Like that crystal ball that suddenly lights up, she's never shown that to them before.

One big and one small, two souls.It's you, but it's not you. My 17-year-old self and my 14-year-old self.But entangled forward, almost overlapping but can't explain clearly, no matter how old I am, I am myself, how can it be almost overlapping?Has his soul changed?Who is the man who cut through the fog, Dumbledore?

Harry thought of the words almost overlapping, and suddenly thought of Veela.He didn't mean to be disrespectful to the Headmaster, but the thought that the man who cut through the Mist might have been the man who had saved him from the veela, Dumbledore, love - made his stomach a little sick.

"Harry!" Ron whispered.

Harry looked around and saw that the whole class was staring at him.He quickly sat up straight.

"Honey, as I was saying just now, you have apparently been under the ominous influence of Mars recently," said Professor Trelawney, standing very close to him, with a hint of disapproval in her tone, because Harry was clearly not paying attention. She lectures.

"Excuse me, what—?" Harry asked.

"Mars, dear, Mars!" said Professor Trelawney, seeing that Harry was indifferent to the news, her tone was obviously a little annoyed, "I just said that just recently, you have been affected by Mars .Two Mars, Neptune—Two Mars, sounds impossible, but they intersect somewhat in the realm of the mystic. Mars stays long in the north of you, and men south of it will have disaster. Two Mars, Men's disasters, bigger disasters - but Neptune is older men, and it dilutes some of the influence of Mars, making this outcome unpredictable. You must have had something with some older men lately."

"That's right," said Harry. "I went to a Quidditch match that had the Dark Mark on it, and there were a lot of older men there. It's probably in the papers by now."

Ron couldn't help laughing, and quickly turned it into a dry cough.

"You have to predict your death a few times, Harry, or I bet you won't pass your exam." Professor Trelawney said with a small smile when he turned to leave.

The author has something to say: It's strange how I wrote it, why it took so long for SS to hang around every day, I feel so uncomfortable when he doesn't speak.

Tomorrow, if I have time, I'll be double-shifting, he should come out more often in the future, what's the matter ==|||||

By the way, Mars, the Mars I am talking about is not our current Mars, but the one called Yinghuo in ancient times.Scorpio, Antares.