Chapter 1101

Harry Potter was snoring loudly.

He had spent most of the past four hours sitting in a chair by the bedroom window, staring out at the darkening street, but he finally couldn't help but fall asleep with one side of his face against the window glass, his mouth open and his glasses askew.

His breath condensed on the window glass, gleaming in the orange light outside, the artificial light masking the color of his face, making him look like a ghost with unkempt black hair. The room was littered with various objects and garbage.

Owl feathers, apple cores and candy wrappers were scattered on the floor, robes were spread out on the bed with a few spell books, and the turbid light on the table illuminated a few scattered newspapers. One of them was headlined with a striking headline: Harry Potter: The Right One?

Rumors were still flying about the recent mysterious disturbance at the Ministry of Magic, in which people had seen the devil who must not be named again.

"We are forbidden to talk about it, don't ask me any questions," said an agitated amnesticist as he left the Ministry last night, refusing to give his name. However, we can confirm through well-informed sources in the Ministry that the disturbance took place in the legendary Hall of Prophecy. Although Ministry spokesmen refuse to admit that such a place even now exists, there is a growing public belief that the Death Eaters on trial in Azkaban for trespassing and attempted theft were trying to steal the prophecy.

Although we do not know what the prophecy was, it is widely speculated that it concerns Harry Potter, the only person known to have escaped the Killing Curse, who happened to be in the Ministry that night.

Some now call Harry Potter "the One", believing that he is the only one who can get rid of the He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. However, the prophecy, if it exists, is currently missing. (See page 2, column 5)

Next to it is another newspaper. It reads in large headlines: Scrimgeour Replaces Fudge. A large part of the front page is taken up by a black-and-white photograph of a man with leonine hair and a scarred face. This photo is animated - the man is waving at the ceiling.

Rufus Scrimgeour, formerly head of the Auror Office at the Department of Law Enforcement, has replaced Cornelius Fudge as Minister for Magic. The appointment has been welcomed by the wizarding community, but within hours of his inauguration, rumours of a rift between him and Albus Dumbledore, who had just resumed his seat as Chief Wizard of the Wizengamot, surfaced.

A spokesman for Scrimgeour acknowledged that he met with Dumbledore immediately after taking office, but declined to comment on the topics discussed. Albus Dumbledore is (Continued on page 3, column 2) There is also a folded newspaper on the left of this photo, with a report titled "Ministry of Magic to Keep Students Safe".

New Minister for Magic Rufus Scrimgeour today spoke of strong measures being taken to ensure the safe return of students to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry this autumn.

"For well-known reasons, the Ministry of Magic will not release details of this rigorous security plan," the Minister said, but we have been confirmed by people familiar with the matter that these measures include some defensive spells, a complex set of counter-spells and a special task force responsible for the safety of Hogwarts students, all composed of Aurors.

But Harry already knew this a long time ago. In fact, it was Hermione who told him this information, of course, there were some other things he expected.

Harry snored in his sleep, his face slid down from the glass about an inch, which made his glasses tilted further to one side, and he still didn't wake up.

An alarm clock that Harry had repaired a few years ago was ticking on the windowsill, and there was one minute left.

Harry, who was sleeping next to him, held a piece of parchment in his hand, with thin, slightly tilted words on it.

Since Harry received the letter three days ago, he has read it many times. Although the letter was tied tightly into a cylinder when it was delivered, it has now been smoothed and lies quietly.

Dear Harry, If it is convenient for you, I will call at number 4 Privet Drive at 10:00 this Friday evening to take you to the Burrow, where you are invited to spend the rest of the holiday.

I would be very happy if you could assist me in doing something on the way to the Burrow, if you think it appropriate. I will explain this in more detail when I see you.

Yours sincerely, Albus Dumbledore!

Although he had learned the letter by heart, he still peeked at it every few minutes from 7pm, sitting by his bedroom window, where he could see both ends of Privet Drive at the same time.

He knew there was no point in staring at Dumbledore's letter; he had already sent his "OK" by owl, as he had been asked, and now all he could do was wait: whether Dumbledore came or not. But Harry hadn't packed yet. It seemed too good to be true that he only had to stay with the Dursleys for two weeks before he could escape. He could hardly shake the feeling that something might go wrong - perhaps his letter to Dumbledore had been lost by the owl; Dumbledore might not be able to pick him up; or perhaps the letter had not been from Dumbledore at all and was just a hoax or a joke, or even a trap.

Harry couldn't bear the disappointment of packing his things and then having to open them again to take them all out. So the only preparation he made for this possible journey was to keep his snowy owl, Hedwig, safely caged.

At the exact moment the minute hand of the alarm clock reached the top, the lights on the street outside the window went out. The sudden darkness woke Harry up like an alarm clock. He quickly adjusted his glasses, pressed his nose against the window glass that had just touched his cheek, and glanced at the sidewalk.

A slender figure dragged a long cloak and walked towards the path in the garden. There was another figure next to him, covered with a cloak, but Harry did not recognize who it was. However, this was not a problem. He knew who was coming, so he did not lie to himself?

Harry suddenly thought of something, and then Harry jumped up like he was electrocuted, knocked over the chair, and began to grab everything he could reach one by one and throw it into the suitcase.

Just as he threw the robe, two spell books and a bag of potato chips from one end of the room to the other, the doorbell rang. (To be continued)