Chapter 786: Group Pick-Up

I've just been attacked by a dementor and may be kicked out of Hogwarts.

I want to know what's next and when I'm going to be kicked out of here.

Harry copied these words onto three different pieces of parchment as soon as he returned to his desk in his dark bedroom.

He sent the first letter to Sirius, the second letter to Ron, and the third letter to Hermione and Fanlin.

Harry's owl, Hedwig, was out foraging now, her cage on the table empty.

Harry paced in the bedroom waiting for Hedwig to come back. His head felt like a blow. Although his eyes were stinging and itching due to excessive fatigue, his brain was suffering from insomnia due to excessive excitement.

His back had been hurting since carrying Dudley home, and the bump on the window and the punch from Dudley had left two bumps on Harry's head that were now throbbing.

Harry paced, passing the time in anger and frustration, grinding his teeth and clenching his fists.

Every time he walked to the window, he looked out with an annoyed look at the empty night sky dotted with stars.

Dementors were delivered to him, Mrs. Figg and Mundungus Fletcher secretly followed him, and he was subsequently expelled from Hogwarts with a delay and told to attend a hearing at the Ministry of Magic - and the worst part was that until No one is telling him what will happen now.

There's also the matter of that wizard's roaring letter.

Whose voice sounded so terrifying, so vicious as it echoed through the kitchen? Why is he still here without any news? Why does everyone treat him like a naughty child? He was simply asked to stay in the house and not to use any more magic.

He kicked the school suitcase as Harry passed by, but far from venting his anger, it only made him feel worse. As it was now, in addition to the pain in other parts of his body, his My toes also suffered severe pain. Just as Harry limped past the window again, Hedwig flew in through the window, flapping her soft, rustling wings like a little ghost.

"What time!" Harry said angrily when Hedwig was standing on the top of the cage. "Put that thing down, I have a job for you to do!" Hedwig had a dead frog in her mouth. , staring at Harry with its huge, round, amber eyes, full of reproach.

"Come here," said Harry, taking the three small pieces of parchment and a leather strap and wrapping the letter around Hedwig's feet. "Send these directly to Sirius, Ron, Vernon, and Hermione, and don't come back until you get a response of sufficient length. If you get there, keep pecking them until they write a response of sufficient length. Got it? ?”

Hedwig made a dissatisfied sound, still holding the frog in her mouth.

"Let's go then," said Harry. She set out immediately.

The moment Hedwig flew away, Harry fell on the bed, staring straight at the dark ceiling. Among other painful feelings, he now felt guilty for having treated Hedwig so roughly.

Hedwig is his only friend in No. 4 Privet Drive.

Harry decided to make it up to Hedwig when she returned with replies from Sirius, Ron, Verlin and Hermione.

They would be sure to reply quickly: there was no way they could ignore a Dementor attack. Because of his quick response to the Ministry of Magic, maybe when he woke up tomorrow, three bulging envelopes filled with sympathy and plans would be handed into his hands.

With this comforting thought sleep swept over Harry and all further thoughts fell silent.

But Hedwig didn't come back the next morning, and Harry stayed in the bedroom all day, leaving only to go to the bathroom.

Three times that day Aunt Petunia passed food through the cat hole that Uncle Vernon had installed three years ago.

Every time Harry heard his aunt approaching he tried to ask the wizard about the bellowing letter, but every time it was like asking the doorknob.

Otherwise, the Dursleys let him stay in his bedroom. Harry couldn't see how being with them would empower him, gain nothing except maybe make him angrier and perform more illegal magic.

This situation lasted for three days. Harry was filled with excess energy, which made it impossible for him to solve anything. Every time he walked around the bedroom, he would feel extremely angry at those who left him in this dirty and stuffy place. , and at the same time, every once in a while, he would lie in bed for an hour, staring numbly into space, thinking about the Ministry of Magic hearings with a kind of fearful pain.

What if they rule against him? What if he was expelled and the wand was snapped in two? What can he do? Where could he go? He couldn't go back to the days when he lived with the Dursleys every day. He was different now than he was in the past. He knew another world where he truly belonged.

Maybe he could move into Sirius' house, as Sirius had suggested a year ago when he was clearing his name in Dumbledore's office?

But Harry is not yet a minor, can he be allowed to live alone with his godfather? Or will it be where he is headed that will determine where he goes next?

Or maybe his violation of the International Statute of Witchcraft Secrecy was serious enough to qualify him for a room in Azkaban?

Whenever these thoughts occurred, Harry always slid out of bed and began pacing the bedroom again.

On the fourth night of Hedwig's departure, when Uncle Vernon entered the bedroom, Harry was in one of his most indifferent stages, staring at the ceiling, and his extremely tired mind went blank.

Harry looked at him slowly. Uncle Vernon was dressed in his best clothes and had an extremely pretentious expression on his face.

"Are we getting ready to go out?"

"Feel sorry?"

"W-let's just say, your aunt, Dudley and I were getting ready to head out."

"Very well," Harry said dully, eyes returning to the ceiling.

"You're not allowed to leave the bedroom while we're out."

"no problem."

"You are not allowed to touch the TV, stereo or any property that belongs to us."

"Can."

"You're not allowed to steal food from the refrigerator."

"OK."

"I will lock your door."

"Just do it."

Uncle Vernon stared at Harry, clearly suspicious of the lack of argument, and then stomped out of the room, closing the door behind him. Harry heard the key turning in the lock, and Uncle Vernon's heavy footsteps coming downstairs.

A few minutes later he heard the garage door opening, the roar of the engine, and finally the very real sound of a car driving onto the road. Harry had no particular feelings about the Dursleys leaving.

It made no difference to him whether they were home or not. He didn't even pull himself together to get up and turn on the bedroom light.

The room around him grew darker as Harry lay in bed listening to the sounds of night through the window that was never closed, now just waiting for some blessed moment for Hedwig to return.

The empty house creaked around Harry. The pipes made a gurgling sound.

Harry lay on the bed in a semi-conscious state where he didn't want to think about anything and temporarily forgot about his pain. Then, quite distinctly, he heard a crash from the kitchen below. He sat up straight and listened carefully.

There was no way the Dursleys were coming back, it was too short a time, and he would have heard their car anyway.

It was quiet for a few seconds, and then voices started to sound.

His thought was that a burglar was coming, and his feet slid off the bed - but the next moment he realized that burglars would lower their voices, and whoever was moving in the kitchen certainly wouldn't do so to give Get yourself into trouble.

Harry grabbed his wand from the bedside table and stood facing the bedroom door, listening as best he could.

The next moment his bedroom door opened with a loud click of the lock and Harry jumped.

Harry stood still, staring through the open doorway at the dark landing, straining his ears to hear more sounds, but no one came up. He hesitated for a moment, then moved quickly and quietly out of the room and reached the top of the stairs.

His heart suddenly rose to his throat.

Someone was standing in the shadow of the living room downstairs, their silhouettes revealed in the streetlight light filtering through the frosted glass. As far as he could see, there were about eight or nine people, looking up at him.

"Lower your wand before you blow someone's eye out," growled a deep voice. Harry's heart was beating uncontrollably. He recognized the voice, but he did not lower his wand.

"Is it Professor Moody?" he asked uncertainly. "I don't know what professor," the voice replied, "I never taught you anything, did I? Come down here, we want to see you."

Harry lowered his wand slightly, but held it firmly and did not move. He had every reason to be suspicious. The guy he'd thought for the last nine months was Mad-Eye Moody turned out not to be Moody at all, but an imposter, twice to be exact. Two impostors, and to make matters worse, he tried to kill Harry before he was revealed.

But before Harry could decide his next move, another slightly hoarse voice came upstairs.

"It's okay, Harry. We'll take you away."

Harry's heart was beating rapidly. He also recognized this voice, even though he hadn't heard it for more than a year.

"Professor Lupine?" he asked in disbelief, "Is that you?"

"Why are we standing in the dark?" said a third voice, a completely unfamiliar voice. It was a woman. "Lumos!"

A wand flashed, and magical light illuminated the entire living room.

Harry blinked. People below were crowding at the foot of the stairs, staring intently at Harry, some even tilting their heads like Scottish herrings to get a better look.

Remus Lupine stood closest to Harry.

"I don't need it, Tonks, you know, I can see." A very familiar voice sounded, which made Harry a little excited.

"Fan Lin, is that you?" Harry suddenly said loudly.

"Oh, if nothing else, Harry, I think you should pack your luggage and give it to me. It's time for us to leave." Fan Lin said with a smile, and then squeezed up from the corridor.

"Oh, he looks just like I imagined he would," said the witch, holding up her wand that glowed aloft.

Tonks?

She had a pale face, sparkling black eyes, and short, spiky hair that was purple, giving it a violent shade.

"Merlin's beard..."

"Yes, I know what you mean, Remus," said the bald black wizard who stood farthest back - he had a deep, slow voice and wore a golden ring——

"He looks a lot like James."

"Except for the eyes," the speaker was a panting old wizard with white hair standing behind, "those are Lily's eyes."

Mad-Eye Moody, the old man with long, gray hair and a chunk of his nose missing, was looking at Harry suspiciously through his mismatched eyes.

One of his eyes is small, black, and bead-like, while the other eye is huge, round, and electric blue—the magic eye that can see through walls, doors, and the back of Moody's own head.

"Are you absolutely sure it's him, Lupin?" he growled. "It would be nice if we brought back some damn imitator. We should ask him questions that only the real Potter would know. Otherwise, unless someone brings the Veritaslam potion.”

"Harry, what is the shape of your Patronus Charm?" Lupine asked. "A stag." Harry said nervously.

"That's him, Moody," Lupine replied.

"You should believe me, Professor Moody. I have lived with him for four years in the same dormitory." Fan Lin said helplessly, "Besides, at the Dursley's..."

"Don't let your guard down, kid. Although you have good abilities, you still lack training, otherwise Dumbledore wouldn't have brought you here..."

"Is your trip over?" Harry leaned over and asked quietly.

"I'll explain to you later. After your accident, Dumbledore called everyone back." Fan Lin said helplessly, "Get ready to go, we are going to a place, Hermione and Ron are both there. "

"Okay." Harry nodded quickly, "I'm so happy to see you, Fan Lin."

"Me too, go down first, Hedwig is already waiting for you."

Harry gulped.

With everyone still staring at him curiously, Harry walked down the stairs, putting his wand away in the back pocket of his jeans as he stepped forward.

"Don't leave your wand there, kid!" shouted Moody. "What if it lights up? Better wizards than you would burn their buttocks, you know!"

"Do you know anyone who burned off their buttocks?" The purple-haired witch asked Mad-Eye Moody with great interest.

"It's none of your business, just take your wand out of your hip pocket!" shouted Moody. "This is basic wand safety and no one will find it troublesome."

"But he tripped on the way to the kitchen and I saw him!"

Moody added angrily when he saw the witch roll her eyes to the ceiling.

Lupine held out his hand and shook Harry's hand. "How are you?" he asked, looking at Harry from a very close distance.

"I'm fine," Harry said. "It's just that there are some..." (To be continued)