HP leap time

"Prophets..." Dumbledore looked at the painting deeply, with impenetrable emotions in his eyes. "They never prophesy lightly."

Harry fixed his eyes on the strapless girl. She was the main character in the painting, but she was the least vivid one in the painting, and things like aura were incompatible with her.

It was really a painting, and Harry looked at the blank black eyes from a distance across the drawing paper.

"What's a Seer?" Harry asked, fingering the already warm milk.

"It's literally." Dumbledore looked at him in feigned surprise. "I would have thought you didn't take it this year, Harry."

"That's different... I mean it's Professor Terry Lawry's divination class, it's not the same as these..." Harry was a little eager. "Professor, do you know? About these people."

"Oh?" Dumbledore smiled mysteriously. "Why don't you drink milk and listen to stories?"

"Sybyl's grandfather also had connections with these Russian nobles. She also came from a prophetic family, and these." Dumbledore smiled. "It's an upstart in Russia. You know that there is a reason why this painting is qualified to be ranked alongside the previous Hogwarts principals."

"It can evolve history. Every descendant of a distinguished prophet, every different worshiper, will change with the passage of time. At the beginning, I was from Italy..."

"So, the people in this painting are the prophets of this generation?" Harry said slightly solemnly, interrupting Dumbledore's words. "Sorry, Professor."

Dumbledore smiled reassuringly, indifferently.

"Who is the one looking for you?"

Harry was slightly taken aback, and randomly looked at the girl in the white robe in the painting, who was staring at his fingers intently.

Dumbledore's gaze sharpened suddenly.

"Cecilia," he said.

"What?" Harry wondered, turning to look at Dumbledore.

Dumbledore's pupils flickered slightly. "Each Holy Son is called Cecilia, she is the Holy Son of this term, and she is a separate power individual in the prophet."

"They are chosen by fate."

Harry's heart skipped a beat, he seemed to have heard this sentence before.

"But? Why are you looking for me? I'm just an ordinary British wizard..." Harry fidgeted a little.

"Separation of soul and body, Harry." Dumbledore looked at him seriously, his expression unprecedentedly dignified. "The soul body of the Holy Son is unprecedentedly strong, the body can't bear it, and the soul body is forced to separate."

Harry's pupils shrank fiercely, and he thought of the girl named Cecilia just now, she said that she was her kind... Does it mean the separation of soul and body?

"Close to her!" He raised his head suddenly. "Before she loses interest in you!"

Harry looked at the old man in surprise, his old face looked haggard in the pale yellow light.

"She has what you need, Harry." The words died away with a sigh.

What he needs is nothing more than a method to suppress the sequelae of soul-body separation.Will this Russian seer named Cecilia have it?

That's right, each generation of holy sons has the characteristics of separation of soul and body, so they naturally have methods in this regard and precious materials for suppressing potions.

But for him to approach them, these mystic seers, as a pilgrim.

"Sorry, Professor." Harry looked up at him firmly. "I can not do it."

He can't pin his hopes on others, and he can't get close to someone against his will.

Dumbledore fell silent, his blue eyes staring blankly at Harry.

"I still have one year left, Professor, give me time, and I will solve my physical problems." Harry lowered his head, staring at the gradually cooling liquid in his hand. "No matter what, I don't want to be close to them."

Involuntarily, he recalled the feeling of Cecilia spying on him again, the feeling that the things he protected were stolen alive.

"Okay." Dumbledore put down his glass and winked at him. "That's good, after all, prophets are not easy to contact."

Harry glanced at him gratefully and couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief.

Harry lit his wand and left the headmaster's office after promising himself that he would not go out in the middle of the night.

He was thinking about everything that happened tonight with complicated emotions. The prophet, Cecilia, the holy son, the gauze girl with bare shoulders...all these nouns that have nothing to do with him forcibly broke into his world...well Before he had a chance to stop all this, Harry remained silent, hoping those guys would stop chasing him...

Life will go on, there is still no news about Voldemort, Guan Kou has been destroyed by himself in the secret room, Slytherin's locket is still lying in Black's ancestral house... other Horcruxes are relatively difficult, It's not something that can be solved overnight. What really scares him is Voldemort himself, that is the real powerful guy. Regarding his rebirth, Harry thought, Peter has been imprisoned in Azkaban, no one can Go to Voldemort when you are being chased and desperate...

Although history cannot be changed arbitrarily, he has already begun to have an indirect impact on history. Then, Harry's pupils turned cold, everything depends on time, and how time will modify history. Standing still is also an influence on the trajectory of history. the utmost respect for the development of

Christmas came after a heavy snowfall, Harry opened his eyes, and joy surged in his body like a broken spring.

Outside the window, piles of white patches piled up all over the sky, and the snow-colored house was bright. Harry threw himself into his gift pile and rummaged through it, like a stealing cat.

This year's gifts were extraordinarily plentiful, mostly from unexplained admirers, and they piled up like a hill to fill the corner of the bed.

As Harry leaned over, a shiny pendant jumped out of the roomy white pajamas. It was a white bead, and it was impossible to tell what magical material it was.All he knew was that as soon as the little blond bastard blew his whistle, he immediately knew the location of the other party.Malfoy always had the money to buy such crap, but it had to be said that it was really convenient to have.

Harry had spent almost every night with Draco these weeks, mostly at the Observatory, and occasionally at the Quidditch pitch.Of course, what Draco wanted to see was the great white vulture that he himself named Dylan... (Harry has no idea about his new name, as long as it's not Dilina, Disa, etc.) not that Rival Harry Potter.

What was least expected at the time was that Draco really fell in love with flying with him, and they swam around Hogwarts almost every night, and several times he even took him farther afield...

During the day, he acted as an enemy tit for tat, and at night, he hugged like the closest friend for warmth... Of course, this was all without Draco's knowledge, Harry thought, if he knew that he hugged that green-eyed scarred head every day, he would still be warm. With a bright smile on his face... Harry didn't dare to think about it anymore.

That's fine, Harry thought.

Soon, he found what he wanted.Hiding the little thing on his chest into his clothes, Harry couldn't help but curled up into a big smile, and his green eyes looked at a delicate and beautiful gift box in his hand.

It is a small rectangular box, and the green dark-striped bow is twisted at a nice angle on the silver box.I couldn't wait to open the box carefully, and the three-dimensional triangle cufflinks inlaid with emeralds lay quietly inside.

"Wow! You're rich!" Ron leaned over with his bird's nest head on his head. He looked at Harry's pile of presents, and then at his own small pile. The appearance of a blow. "Who sent it?"

Harry laughed silently.

Of course he knew who sent it, just the other weekend, Draco and he were sitting together on the lighthouse that he had cleaned.

It hadn’t snowed that day, and the sun was still hanging high in the light blue sky. Looking down from the lighthouse, the green plants were surging in the wind like waves, and flocks of white birds were skimming under their feet like swimming fish. However, the bright sunshine is full of gentle and delicate wind.

The pale blond-haired boy leaned on the big bird relaxedly, sitting in the white and clean feathers.

He took out a pair of exquisite and beautiful cufflinks from his robe. The green cufflinks reflected soft and delicate light in the sunlight.

"Goo."

The boy raised the object in his hand and put it close to the big bird's red beak.

"Would you like to eat?" asked inducingly.

Harry silently rolled his eyes inwardly.

"Step on it, Dylan." Draco carefully placed the thing on the ground, and then tried to pat Harry on the head.

"Goo." Harry turned his head lazily.

"Hey!" Seeing that the big bird didn't respond to him, Draco didn't force it, and simply stepped on it, and the pair of cufflinks rolled away, covered in a layer of dust.

Then stood still, blue-gray pupils flashing a trace of sadness where Harry couldn't see it.

Harry silently watched him go crazy, and then watched angrily as Draco carefully tore off one of his feathers and fanned the dust off their surface, and finally picked it up with a handkerchief and wiped it meticulously.

awkward guy.

The boy put away his things, and took out a quill and some beautiful stationery with a faint fragrance from his robe.

He opened it very seriously, thought for a while and began to write quickly.

ah!There are secrets.

Harry pretended to inadvertently put his big head closer, his mint green eyes rolled around.If Draco looked up at this time, he would be horrified to find a big eagle peeking with its head tilted and squinting... Thinking about it, he was terrified.

Draco wrote a smug thank you letter with extreme seriousness, and then signed the envelope with Harry's wide eyes.

Scar hair.

After a while, he changed another envelope and wrote carefully on it, Harry Potter accepts.

Harry suddenly became flustered, sent him?Thank you?Somewhat unreal, Harry felt his heart beat suddenly faster.

"Goo."

He turned his head abruptly, and the red beak accidentally hit the boy on the head.

"Oh!" Draco rubbed his head and was forced to interrupt his train of thought. He patted Harry's head hard. "Hope you're not really hungry."

"Gu." The big white eagle began to bow its head passionately in the other's horrified and desperate eyes and arched it fiercely.

The letter paper rattled in the wind, "Go away..." The boy's voice was muffled in the soft and confused feathers.