HP Margo's Diary

(One)

Holding a small box in my arms, I leaned my head against the car window, looking at the unfamiliar scenery outside the window, I suddenly remembered the day I was taken to Privet Drive.The weather in London is always gloomy, and that day too, I sat quietly in the car.Mr. Dean sat on my left, he looked at me with concern from time to time, while I avoided his gaze and kept looking out the window,

The interior of the car swayed up and down due to the rough ground, so the scenery in my eyes also rose and fell.The thing in the box made a sound because of shaking, and I shifted my sight to it.

All I brought back from England was this little wooden box, but I didn't have the guts to open it.I knew it was time for me to stop, so I came to France, and I tried to use distance to split my days on Privet Drive and the emotions I had because of him.

It seemed that it was about to arrive, and I saw the car turning into an intersection.The houses in Little Whinging seem to be cut squarely, neatly arranged on both sides of the road.However, there are only a few duplex cabins scattered irregularly along the roadside.

I got out of the car with the box in my arms, and my grandma was waiting for me at the door.She showed me the room that had been prepared for me, which she said was also my mother's room, where she lived until she graduated from high school.

The door of the room opened facing a window, the off-white screen was blown up and down by the wind, the window frame was green, and there was a forest outside the window.Here, too, is a desk, set in front of the window, as in my room on Privet Drive.

She knew that I was a stranger to her at this time, so she just told me that she would call me for dinner at night and then silently withdrew.

I put the box on the table, and began to look carefully at the house that was full of traces of my mother's life.There are faded posters of unknown movies on the wall, there are some small and cute decorations on the desk, and there is dried red nail polish in the drawer.

I seem to see an innocent girl living here through these things, and those scenes that are almost forgotten by me are becoming more and more clear in my mind: well-manicured golden curly hair, wearing a floral long dress skirt, calling me Margo softly, and the way she looked at me before she left.

I suddenly felt a kind of loneliness, a kind of loneliness surrounded by silence, surrounded by noise.

(two)

I don't know how long I sat in front of the desk in a daze, until the door was knocked lightly, I realized that it was already dark, and even the wind blowing in from the window brought a little chill.

I went downstairs and sat at the dining table, looking at my grandma's slightly apprehensive and flattering eyes, I felt a little nervous unconsciously.So he looked down at the food on the plate slightly.

Until she started to cough, from a suppressed low voice to as if she was about to cough out her lungs, I watched her take the medicine from her pocket with trembling hands, and quickly poured a glass of water and handed it to her.

She took it and wanted to smile at me, but the severe cough made it difficult for her to control her expression. She took a sip of water after swallowing the medicine and her breathing gradually calmed down.

I realized that she found me with such a broken and old body.

(three)

Grandma planted some flowers and plants in the front yard, and the stone path stretched to the wooden fence door.But she was too tired to take care of it, so I took care of the foliage and weeds.

As I bent over the ground weeding, I suddenly remembered the first time I saw Harry, when I watched it from the upstairs window.So when I realized it, I was already sitting on the steps of the front yard with the box in my arms. The golden balls in the box were dazzlingly bright when the sun shone on them.

It occurred to me that I'd been forgetting to ask Harry what it was for, and Harry had never mentioned it.

I held up the little ball and looked at it in the sun. The golden ball has a wave-like pattern on it.

Until the sunlight in front of me was blocked and a shadow was cast on my face.I looked up and there was a boy with curly blonde hair and beautiful amber eyes, and he was looking at me.

"Snitch? Are you a wizard too?" he asked me, excited as if he had found an ally.

His appearance was extremely abrupt, but his expression was so natural that I almost thought I was sitting in his yard.

He spoke French too fast, and I could only hear the second half of his sentence clearly, so I just shook my head, "I'm a Muggle." I'm not very proficient in French, and I don't know how to say Muggles in French, so English pronunciation is used.

"Muggles?" he repeated, still looking at me suspiciously, and then as if suddenly realized "You mean Non-magique?"

He said again, "But how do non-wizards know that they are not wizards?" After finishing speaking, he laughed to himself as if he thought this sentence was funny.

However, after he saw the doubts on my face clearly, he finally realized that I wasn't joking. He suppressed his smile and asked me in surprise, "Are you really not a wizard?"

I nodded, paused and said "Muggle" emphatically

He seemed to feel embarrassed all of a sudden, "Oh." He uttered this meaningless syllable, then stood stiffly in place, as if he was looking for something to say, and asked dryly, "Where are you from?"

"British," I said.

"Then you are Mrs. Lowes' granddaughter?" he asked.

I nodded, he should have asked this question from the beginning,

"I'm so happy for her," he said with a smile, "I'm Dacien Chevalier, and I live near you." He pointed to a house not far away, "That's my home."

"Margaret," I said, and I glanced in the direction he was pointing.

"It's a beautiful name," he said with a smile

I didn't laugh, I thought in my heart why he still didn't leave.

"Actually, I just saw you weeding," he said. "Do you need help?"

Before I could say no, he said, "Hey, you're welcome, I'm good at this. I do all the grass in our house. I used to help Mrs. Lowz weed." He blinked as he said, He took a small stick out of his pants pocket.

I knew this was their wand, Harry's was like his.But Harry treasured his wand and always kept it in a box when it wasn't in use, and he, I saw him, just kept it casually in his trousers pocket, with a little piece of it sticking out under his clothes.

He said a spell I couldn't understand, waved his wand, and the plants in the front yard looked as if they had been carefully manicured.

I was a little dazed and asked him, "Aren't you unable to perform magic in front of Muggles?"

"It doesn't matter, anyway, you already know." He smiled, and said mysteriously, "I use my dad's wand. Although it doesn't listen to me occasionally, it's enough—remember to keep it secret for me."

I nodded and couldn't help but say "it's amazing"

"There's something even more amazing." He looked at me with some pride, and stretched out his hand to me, "I'll show you."

"What?" I didn't understand what he meant, I looked blank

"Golden Snitch" he said, and then he saw that I was still puzzled, and pointed to the thing in my hand with a good temper "that little golden ball"

"Oh" I also uttered this meaningless syllable, and slowly raised my hand to spread it out, and the little golden ball lay quietly in the palm of my hand.

"Did you get this from your friend" he asked, and then I heard him say "That must be a very important friend, the Snitch is precious to Seekers"

I froze for a moment and didn't respond to his words.

He stretched out his wand towards my hand, and tapped the ball on the tip of the small wooden stick. The next second, it stretched out its wings on my palm as if it was triggered, and then swished towards me.

Its golden wings fanned into two phantoms, glowing with dazzling golden light under the sun.

The first time I saw it flying in the air, I thought it was just an ordinary ball before today.

It's so beautiful, I can't help but stare at it all the time, even if it flies higher and higher, even if the glare of the sun makes my eyes hard to open.

In the end I just saw a flash of gold in the sky.

"Is it gone?" I asked softly, my eyes still on the sky.

"It went to its owner and it remembered who caught it," he said.

But its owner is in England, I thought, so it never belonged to me.

(three)

Dachian is more familiar than I imagined, and he is even a little noisy.

Maybe it's because I'm the only one around here who can talk to him, maybe it's because he doesn't have to hide his identity from me-he's always dangling that little stick in my face.

"Are all wizards in your family?" I asked him

He nodded and said, "Our family has been wizards for generations."

I can't imagine the life of a wizard because they can do everything with magic.I thought so, and said so.

He laughed when he heard that, he stood up and held out his hand to me "I'll show you the life of a wizard"

So I followed him to his house in a daze. When I opened the door, there was a small and lovely carpet.

They also hang some photos on the wall of their house, but I was surprised to find that these photos can move!So I leaned over curiously and took a closer look. There was a picture of him changing from pretending to be serious to being amused by something. Still clutching her stomach and bending over slightly.

I have never seen a person who can smile like this. He always has a smile on his face, as if he has never had any troubles.

"This is me at school." He noticed my gaze, stood beside me and explained to me, "And this one, this is the banquet hall of our school"

He pointed to me excitedly, "This is the forest fairy in our school, they will serenade us, this is me"

I tried to find him in the crowded photos, until I followed the direction of his fingers to see the curly-haired boy trying to bounce into the mirror behind the crowd.In the photo, he looks much younger than he is now.

In the end, he took me around the whole house, except for his room, and he explained with a blushing face, "I'll show you next time, my room hasn't been cleaned yet."

I nodded casually, more interested in his kitchen than in his room - his dishes wash themselves!My eyes are straight.

He told me that his school was in the south of France, and that his family didn't live here, but moved here to avoid the attention of non-wizards.

He said that his father was a staff member of the French Department of Magical Transportation, and his mother was a newspaper reporter in the magic world, so he was often the only one at home.

I thought he was going to be a little bit lost, and I was trying to comfort him, but he actually smiled the next second, and he grinned and said, "In this way, no one will care about me, and I can cast magic as I like at home."

I withdrew my half-stretched hand, a little helpless and a little funny.

He said I was the first non-wizard to come to his house and I was his first non-wizard friend.