HP Dawn Night

Life at 19 Spinner's End is uneventful, and the holidays are quickly over.Until Christmas morning, when I was unwrapping Pencey's presents, I found a letter she had enclosed:

"Dear Vio:

I pray to Merlin that this letter won't spoil your Christmas spirit, but I'm sorry but I want it to come to you privately so I can't send an owl, sorry!

The holidays were a total mess for me, my mother was either not coming home or shut herself in the study and not talking to anyone; my father was busy with his business.Most of the time, it was just me and the house-elves at Parkinson's Manor, and it seemed like my parents hadn't seen each other in ages - let alone sit down to dinner peacefully! —but I was awakened at night by their faint quarrels.

For some reason unknown to me, the number of owls entering and leaving Parkinson's Manor suddenly increased.However, my correspondence was limited. My mother did not directly prohibit me from communicating with the outside world, but she made it clear that every letter I wrote would be censored.I protested vehemently about this, but she ignored my stated reasons, she seemed determined to do it, as if I would be passing some secret on!

As I said, my life at home is not so comfortable and free now.However, I accidentally found something that is not interesting but makes me curious, so I want to ask you one thing, I know that Aunt Margaret is not here, so you can't help me find the answer from the collection of Watson Manor .But I beg you to ask Professor Snape cryptically - please!Please don't make him realize that's what I want to know—ask him—"

What disturbs me is that the letter ends there, as if someone had neatly cut off the second half of the letter.I picked up Pansy's incomplete letter and reread it. From Pansy's tone, something seemed to have happened at Parkinson's Manor.And Pan Xi should have hidden the letter in the gift, but it was still found.Who took the second half of the letter?Mrs. Parkinson?So why is she still sending me the first half?

Thinking of this, I immediately picked up the pen and wrote a short message to my mother:

"Dear mother:

Merry Christmas!Thank you for the gift you gave me, I hope you like what I gave you.

Sorry to write you so hastily, but I'm having a little trouble.Not me exactly, but my friend Pansy.In her latest letter, she complained that her family was not happy and that she was actually distressed by it.

I don't know how to untie her.In fact, I also realized this problem when I lived in the Parkinson Manor during the summer vacation. The indifference between the Parkinson couple and their indifference to their daughter is simply outrageous.I don't understand. It is clearly written in the history of magic that since this century, many pure-blood families have become less closed and stubborn, and cases of forced marriages have become fewer and fewer.I can't understand, logically speaking, the relationship between Parkinson and his wife should be a relationship between you and me, but why did it come to this point?

May your reply come as soon as possible, eagerly awaiting!

Miss you

Vio"

"Give it to my mother as quickly as possible, and bring the answer back," I said to Bethany, and opened the window for her to fly out.

I calculated that it would take one day at the fastest to get from here to France, but luckily I could get a reply before the end of the holiday.

At lunch, my father saw that I was preoccupied at a glance.

"I hope you didn't drink any potion by mistake," Dad finally said when I was holding the fork in a daze, "but you look extremely abnormal today, maybe I have to suspect that someone cast the Imperius Curse on you?"

"Nothing." I came back to my senses, "It's really nothing."

Dad took one look at me, hesitated, and finally said, "You know, you can tell me if you have anything to say. About the Shrieking Shack—"

"It's not that." I shook my head, "Dad, do you think magical creatures can understand human nature? I mean plants and the like."

"That's a hard question to answer," Pa said. "It's like some people think potions have souls and some don't."

"In Care of Fantastic Beasts class I discovered that the Hippogriff seems to be able to read people's hearts," I said, "but then I found out that it seems that the Whomping Willow in school has a mind of its own."

Dad frowned slightly: "Really?"

I continued on my own: "I only noticed it this year. Sometimes when I have nothing to do or get stuck on my homework, I will go to sit on the hillside near it for a while, and then talk to me." When it talks, I always feel as if it understands what I'm saying."

"It sounds like your friend gave you some feedback?"

I said seriously: "Didn't you notice that its swaying posture changes? I think that's what it wants to say to me... a unique way of expressing it."

"Interesting topic," Dad commented dryly. "The Whomping Willow was planted in my year, but as far as I know, you're not the first person to think so."

"Does anyone else think so?" I asked in surprise.It's hard to imagine anyone talking to Dad about the Whomping Willow.

Dad gave me a sharp look. "Of course—even though I don't have a good impression of it."

"Is that Professor Lupine?" I asked. "I've seen him standing on the hillside a few times during Quidditch practice looking in that direction."

Dad's eyes narrowed, like a wolf on the scent of blood: "Lupine? Oh, he probably has a lot to remember too, but I'm afraid the Whomping Willow brings him memories that aren't entirely pleasant .”

"Are you classmates with Professor Lupine?"

"Obviously, yes," replied Dad dryly.

"Why don't you seem to like him, Dad?" I looked at him curiously, "Professor Lupine is a nice guy, unlike the other Gryffindors—wait, you don't think it's because he's black?" Is it the Magic Defense teacher who rejected him?"

"That's a bad story, Vio." Papa's face darkened slightly, and he said softly and quickly, "Dumbledore is probably out of his wits, Lupine's furry... -"

He stopped talking suddenly and gave me a strange look.I raised my eyebrows to express dissatisfaction: "Why didn't you continue?"

"I told you a long time ago that having too much curiosity is not a good thing." Dad said calmly, "By the way, which memory did you use to summon the patron saint?"

I:"……"

The author has something to say:

Always felt that Professor Lupine was actually a very different Gryffindor, with equal courage (despite evasiveness on Tonks), and a milder personality (Lupine should It is Harry's only remaining father in the true sense, after all, the professor didn't clean up until the end of the seventh part...)