HP Magic Biography

I have just been attacked by a dementor and may be expelled from Hogwarts.

I want to know what will happen next and when I will be kicked out of here.

Harry copied these words into three different parchments as soon as he returned to his desk in the dark bedroom.

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

Harry's owl, Hedwig, is now looking for food outside. The cage on his table is empty.

Harry was pacing around in the bedroom waiting for Hedwig to return. His head seemed to be hit hard. Although his eyes were prickling and itchy from fatigue, his brain was insomnia from excessive excitement.

His back has been aching since he went home with Dudley on his back. The blow from the window and the punch from Dudley left two lumps on Harry's head, and it was also a pain now.

Harry paced up and down, killing time with anger and frustration. He grinds his teeth and clenches his fists firmly.

Every time he walked to the window, he looked at the empty night sky dotted with stars with an angry gaze.

The Dementor was sent to him, Mrs. Feige and Mondungus Fletcher secretly followed him, then he was postponed to be expelled from Hogwarts and told to attend the Ministry of Magic hearing-the worst is until No one now tells him what else will happen.

There is also a question about the wizard's yelling letter.

Whose voice seemed so terrible and so vicious when it echoed in the kitchen? Why does he still stay here and get no news? Why does everyone treat him like a naughty child? He was only required to stay in this house and no more magic.

He kicked the school suitcase when Harry passed by, but this did not vent his anger, but only made him feel worse, as it is now, except for the pain in other parts of his body. The toes also ache sharply. Just when Harry limped past the window again, Hedwig flew in through the window with soft rustling wings like a little ghost.

"When is it time!" Harry said angrily when Hedwig was standing on top of the cage, "Put that thing down, I have work for you to do!" Hedwig had a dead frog in his mouth. , Staring at Harry with its huge round, amber eyes, full of blame.

"Come here," Harry said, and he took the three small parchments and a leather belt and wrapped the letter around Hedwig's feet. "Send these directly to Sirius, Ron, Fanlin, and Hermione, and don't come back if you don't get a long enough reply. If you get there, keep pecking at them until they write a long response. Do you understand? ?"

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

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

The moment Hedwig flew away, Harry collapsed on the bed, staring straight at the dark ceiling. In addition to other painful feelings, he now feels guilty for treating Hedwig so rudely.

Hedwig is his only friend in No. 4 Privetta Road.

Harry decided to make up for Hedwig when he returned with Sirius, Ron, Van Lin and Hermione's letters.

They will reply soon: they can never ignore the attack of the dementor. Because of his quick response to the Ministry of Magic, perhaps when he wakes up tomorrow, three bulging envelopes filled with various sympathies and plans will be handed over to him.

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

But Hedwig did not return the next morning. Harry stayed in the bedroom all day, leaving only to go to the bathroom.

Three times this day, Aunt Petunia delivered food through the cat hole that Uncle Vernon installed three years ago.

Every time Harry heard his aunt approaching, he tried to inquire about the wizard yelling letter, but every time it seemed to be consulting the doorknob.

In addition, the Dursleys let him stay in the bedroom. Harry couldn't see the power that would bring him to being with them, and could not get anything other than that it might make him more angry and use more illegal magic.

This situation lasted for three days. Harry was full of excess energy, which made him unable to solve anything. Every time he was pacing in the bedroom, he was extremely angry for those who threw him in this dirty, sultry and hot ghost place. At the same time, he would lie in bed for an hour every once in a while, staring at the air numbly, thinking of the Ministry of Magic hearing with a kind of horrified pain.

What if their ruling goes against him? What if he is fired and the wand is broken into two pieces? What can he do? Where can he go? He couldn't go back to the days when he lived with the Dursleys every day. Now he is not like the past, he knows another world where he truly belongs.

Maybe he could move into Sirius’s house, as Sirius suggested a year ago when he cleared his grievances in Dumbledore’s office?

But Harry is a minor, can he be allowed to live alone with his godfather? Or will he decide where he is going next?

Or maybe his violation of the international witchcraft secrecy regulations is serious enough to make him eligible to get a room in Azkaban?

Whenever these thoughts appeared, Harry always slipped off the bed and paced in the bedroom again.

On the fourth night of Hedwig's departure, when Uncle Vernon entered the bedroom, Harry was at a certain stage of his most indifferent, eyes staring at the ceiling, his extremely tired brain blank.

Harry looked at him slowly. Uncle Vernon was wearing his best clothes, with an extremely pretentious expression on his face.

"Are we going out?"

"Sorry?"

"Let's-put it this way, your aunt, Dudley, and I are about to go out."

"Very good," Harry said dullly, his eyes returning to the ceiling.

"You are not allowed to leave the bedroom when we are out."

"no problem."

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

"can."

"You are not allowed to steal food from the refrigerator."

"Row."

"I will lock your door."

"Just do that."

Uncle Vernon stared at Harry, obviously suspicious of this lack of argument, then he walked out of the room heavily and closed the door behind him. Harry heard the sound of the key turning in the keyhole and the heavy footsteps of Uncle Vernon coming downstairs.

A few minutes later, he heard the sound of the garage door opening, the roar of the engine, and finally the sound of a real car driving onto the road. There is no special feeling about the Dursleys leaving Harry.

It makes no difference to him whether they are at home or not. He didn't even get up and turn on the bedroom light.

When Harry was lying in bed listening to the sound of the night through the window that was never closed, the rooms around him became darker, and he was just waiting for Hedwig to return at a blessed moment.

The empty house creaked beside Harry. The pipe made a gurgling sound.

Harry lay on the bed in a semi-comatose, not thinking about anything, temporarily forgetting the painful mental state. Then, clearly, he heard a crashing sound from the kitchen below. He sat up straight and listened carefully.

The Dursleys could not be back, the time was too short, and he would hear the sound of their cars anyway.

There was silence below for a few seconds, and then there was a voice.

His thought was that there was a burglar and his feet slipped off the bed-but in the second moment he realized that the burglar would lower their voices, and whoever moved in the kitchen would definitely not do so. Get into trouble yourself.

Harry grabbed his wand from the table next to the bed and stood facing the bedroom door, listening as best he could to the movement outside.

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

Harry stood still, staring at the dark upstairs landing through the open door, cocked his ears to hear more sounds, but no one came up. He hesitated, then moved quickly and quietly walked out of the room, to the top of the stairs.

His heart suddenly came to his throat.

There were people standing in the shadows of the living room downstairs. The light from the street lamps through the frosted glass showed their profile. As far as he could see, about eight to nine people were looking up at him.

"Before you blow someone's eyes, lower your wand," a low voice growled. 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 any professor," the voice replied, "I never taught you anything, did I? Come down, come here, we want to see you."

Harry lowered the wand slightly, but grasped it without relaxing, and did not move his feet. He has every reason to doubt. The guy he believed to be Mad-Eye Moody in the last nine months was found to be not Moody at all, but an impostor, to be precise, twice. Two imposters, and to make matters worse, he tried to kill Harry before he was exposed.

But before Harry decided to take the next step, another slightly hoarse voice came upstairs.

"It's okay, Harry. Let's take you away."

Harry's heart beat quickly. He recognized this voice as well, even though he hadn't heard it for more than a year.

"Professor Lupin?" He asked incredulously, "Is that you?"

"Why are we standing in the dark?" said the third voice. This voice is completely strange and a woman. "Lumos (fluorescent blinking)!"

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

Harry blinked. The people below were huddled at the foot of the stairs, staring at Harry intently. Some even looked up like a Scottish herring to see better.

Remus Lupin is the closest to Harry.

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

"Fanlin, is that you?" Harry said loudly.

"Oh, if nothing else, Harry, I think you should pack your luggage and give it to me, we should go." Fanlin said with a smile, and then squeezed up from the corridor.

"Oh, he looks like what I imagined," the speaking witch held her wand that glowed high up.

Tonks?

She has a pale face, her eyes are black and shiny, and her short, pointed hair is purple, showing a violent shadow.

"Merlin's beard..."

"Yes, I know what you mean, Remus," the speaker was a bald black wizard who was standing at the farthest point behind--he had a deep, slow voice, and he had a small one in his ear. Golden Ring——

"He looks like James."

"Except for the eyes," said a panting, white-haired old wizard standing behind, "that's Lily's eyes."

Crazy Eye Moody, the old man with long gray hair and a big missing nose, was looking at Harry suspiciously through his unmatched eyes.

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

"Are you pretty sure it is him, Lupin?" he growled. "It would be nice if we brought back some **** imitator. We should ask him questions that only the real Potter knows. Otherwise, unless someone brings Veritasram's potion."

"Harry, what is the shape of your patron saint spell?" Lupin asked, "a stag." Harry said nervously.

"It's him, Moody." Lupin replied.

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

"You can't let your guard down, kid, although you have good abilities, you still lack exercise, otherwise Dumbledore will not get you here..."

"Your trip is over?" Harry leaned over and asked in a low voice.

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

"Okay." Harry nodded quickly. "It's nice to meet you, Fanlin."

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

Harry swallowed.

Everyone was still staring at him curiously~www.readwn.com~ Harry walked down the stairs, and when he stepped forward, he put his wand into the back pocket of his jeans.

"Don't put the wand there, boy!" Moody yelled, "What if it ignites? Wizards better than you burn to the hips, you know!"

"Do you know anyone who burned his hips?" the purple-haired witch asked Mad-Eye Moody with great interest.

"It's none of your business, you just have to take your wand out of your **** pocket!" Moody yelled, "This is a basic wand safety measure. No one will think it is troublesome."

"But he tripped on the way to the kitchen, I saw it!"

When Moody saw the witch roll his eyes to the ceiling, he added angrily.

Lupin stretched out his hand and shook Harry's. "How are you?" He looked at Harry from close and asked.

"I'm fine." Harry said. "It's just a little..."