Harry Potter’s Book of Sin Chapter 274: Unidentified woman
"Teacher, I am Maca McLean as a student who accepts your magic inheritance. Let me deal with this Mr. Riddle!"
To be honest, not many people heard this sentence that night, but this kind of thing will be extraordinarily convincing if it is passed on by word of mouth.
In short, it was Maca who drove Voldemort away with his teacher Guidro Lockhart. This is the reality under the eyes of everyone, and it is also an undoubted fact.
The most impressive thing that night was the sudden appearance of Maca. Almost everyone fixed the picture of memory on the icy blue beam of light that broke through the sky.
As for what happened afterwards, it is of secondary importance.
People only need to understand one thing, and that is-after Dumbledore, everyone has a new dependence, and his name is Guidro Lockhart!
You asked him how strong he is? joke! The students he taught are so strong, and he himself is definitely stronger!
Public opinion is always blind, but it is also full of power.
This time, Mr. Lovegood’s "Singing a Singing Tune" published the incident earlier than the "Prophet Daily". In line with Maca’s publicity for the audiovisual conference, Mr. Lovegood this time It really made a lot of money.
Although this is inseparable from Maca’s prior reminder, Mr. Lovegood’s trust also brought him a lot of "encouragement."
Voldemort has made a strategic retreat this time, but when he will return next time is still an unknown question.
However, Voldemort, who was frustrated twice in a row, seemed to be quieter, but the big things did not happen, but the small things continued. Recently, the Order of the Phoenix has acted more frequently than before.
The overall situation, in fact, will not get better because of the morale boost this time. After all, the root cause has not been removed, even if it is temporarily stabilized on the surface, the one that should be faced is still to be faced in the end.
Fortunately, because of Maca’s audiovisual program, a large number of dark wizards and Death Eaters have been arrested again, and the bad effects of the previous prisoner’s escape have been reduced a lot.
"This weather is really getting hotter and hotter!"
Maca put down the quill and sighed, then picked up the white medicine bottle on the table and poured two drops under her feet. Immediately there was a faint chill rising up, and a chill spread all over the body.
"Oh-comfortable!"
……
The hottest day since summer is finally coming to an end.
After that night, Harry went back to Dursley's house and lived the usual boring Muggle life. The scope of his activities remained the same, except for his own room, in fact, only the back of the hydrangea outside the window was left.
What you saw and heard that night had a great impact on Harry. No, it can be said that it affected everyone a lot, and Hermione and Ron were also surprised.
At least, they don’t worry about their foreheads, do they?
"Thank God, that kid finally can't probe his head...well, where did he go?"
In the room, Uncle Vernon Dursley spoke suddenly, and Harry lay lazily under the flowers, listening boredly.
"I don't know," Aunt Petunia said nonchalantly, "I'm not at home anyway."
This caused Uncle Vernon to grumble again.
"That kid actually likes to watch the news!" He said harshly, "I would like to know what his plans are. A normal kid, who cares about the news! Dudley knows nothing about current affairs, I I suspect that he doesn’t even know who the Prime Minister is! Hell, there can be no news about them in the news—"
"Vernon, shhh!" said Aunt Petunia, "the windows are open!"
"Oh! Yes... I'm sorry, my dear."
The Dursleys finally stopped talking.
While listening to a short song about a nutritious breakfast with fruit and bran, Harry looked at Mrs. Feige, an old lady with a strange temper and many cats who lived on Wisteria Road not far from here.
She is walking slowly over, frowning, muttering words in her mouth.
Harry thought that it was fortunate that he was hiding behind the bushes, because Mrs. Figg recently met Harry on the street and she wanted to invite him over for tea.
It didn't take long before she turned the corner and disappeared.
At this time, Uncle Vernon's voice floated out of the window again: "Little Dudley went out for tea?"
"I went to Bokis's house." Aunt Petunia said lovingly, "He has made so many children, everyone likes him so much!"
Harry tried desperately to control himself, so he didn't hum from his nose.
The Deenli couple are surprisingly stupid when it comes to treating their baby son Dudley. Dudley made up stupid lies every night during the summer vacation, saying that he went to some of his gang of friends and friends to drink tea, and they actually believed it!
Harry knew very well that Dudley didn’t go anywhere to drink tea at all. He and his buddies used to destroy public property in the playground every night, smoke on street corners, and throw stones at passing cars and children. .
Harry saw these actions when he was walking in the Little Huijin district at night.
He spent most of this summer wandering the streets, picking up newspapers from the trash can along the way and looking through it—to be honest, this is much more comfortable than staying at Dursley’s all the time.
The opening tune of the seven o'clock news reached Harry's ears, and he quickly pricked up his ears, leaning over to sound with a little nervousness.
"...The strike of Spanish baggage porters entered the second week, and a large number of holidaymakers were stranded at the airport..."
"If it were me, let them enjoy their nap for life." As soon as the newscaster's voice fell, Uncle Vernon yelled viciously, but it didn't matter, a stone in Harry's heart in the flowerbed outside had fallen to the ground.
If something really happens, it must be headline news. Death and disaster are far more important than vacationers stranded in the airport.
He let out a long sigh of relief slowly, looking up at the clear blue sky.
Almost every day of this summer is like this: nervousness, anticipation, temporary relief, and then the string tightens a little bit.
And a question is becoming more and more urgent: Why hasn't things happened yet?
He continued to listen, fearing that in case there were some humble clues, the Muggles had not yet figured out what was going on-such as someone missing for unknown reasons, or a strange accident.
But after the news of the baggage porter’s strike, there was a drought in the southeast, then a helicopter almost crashed in a field in Surrey, and then a famous actress and her famous one The husband is divorced.
The Dursleys' complaints were as fierce and stupid as ever. In contrast, the straightforward news broadcast made Harry feel more at ease.
He narrowed his eyes slightly because the sunset glow in the sky became a bit dazzling.
"Finally, Bunge the budgerigar found a new way to stay cool this summer! He lives in Bunge on Five Feathers Street in Barnsley and has learned to water skiing! Mary Dorkin You report in detail."
Voldemort has indeed returned, and he even saw it with his own eyes at the audio-visual conference! However, nothing bad seems to have happened in the Muggle world.
Is it true that nothing happened? Or...what accident happened, but it was just covered up by the British Ministry of Magic?
Now that we have talked about budgerigar water skiing, there seems to be no more news worth listening to. He turned over cautiously, got up on his knees and elbows, prepared to climb away from the window with his hands and feet.
However, he dare to say that he has just climbed two inches!
But at such a distance of two inches, several things happened one after another.
Only a loud, echoing popping sound, like a gunshot, cut through the sleepy silence; a cat jumped out from under a parked car and disappeared; There was a scream, a curse, and the sound of broken porcelain in the Dursley’s living room.
Harry seemed to have been waiting for this signal. He stood up abruptly, and at the same time pulled out a thin wooden wand from his jeans pocket like a sword—but before he could stand up completely, his head It hit the open window of Dursley's house. With a bang, Aunt Petunia screamed louder in fright.
Harry was so painful that his head was split in half, tears in his eyes.
He shook his body and looked at the street, trying to make his blurred vision clear so that he could figure out where the sound was coming from.
But when he barely stood up straight, two big fuchsia hands came out from the open window and pinched his throat tightly.
"Put it-put away-that stick!" Uncle Vernon yelled, grabbing Harry by the ear~IndoMTL.com~ Hurry up! Don't let-people-see it! "
"Let...Let...me!" Harry panted.
They fought for a few seconds, and Ha used his left hand to break off his uncle's sausage-like fingers, and his right hand was still firmly holding the raised wand.
Next, there was a sharp pain on Harry's already unbearable head.
Uncle Vernon yelled, as if being shocked, let go of Harry. It seemed that an invisible force surged inside his nephew, making it impossible for him to catch him.
Harry fell into the hydrangea, panting, then straightened up and looked around.
He couldn't see where the explosion was coming from, but there were a few people's faces protruding from the various windows around him. Harry hurriedly stuffed his wand into his jeans, pretending that there was nothing wrong.
"What a fascinating night!" Uncle Vernon waved to the lady who lived on the opposite side and stared out from behind the mesh curtain, and said loudly, "Did you hear the sound of the car's tempering? Ni was shocked!"
The ugly, crazy smile on his face continued until the curious neighbors disappeared from their various windows.
At this moment, his smile suddenly changed to a hideous anger, and he motioned for Harry to return to him.
Harry moved a few steps forward, carefully stopping in time to prevent Uncle Vernon's outstretched hands from pinching his throat again.
"What the **** are you doing, boy?" Uncle Vernon asked in a low, trembling voice.
"Uh... Excuse me, excuse me... Do you know how to get to Hogwarts?" Suddenly, a soft, cowering voice rang from behind Harry, "... I seem to be... lost."
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