A Certain Hogwarts Magician Professor

Harry was still full of doubts. But two weeks of boring life left him desperate to get back into the wizarding world, especially since Hermione had given him a very tempting reason - to cast spells without hesitation - and he couldn't ask for more.

"I'll pack up right now!" Harry dropped hastily.

The Dursleys were leaning against the window looking out, cautious and sensitive, with the same suspicion in their eyes.

"Who is she?" Uncle Fenon was the first to ask when Harry entered the hall. He looked carefully at Hermione, who was standing alone near the flower bed. Even with his critical eyes, he couldn't see the flaw. "She too—also went to school with you?"

"Yeah, that's right." Harry walked right past them, turning upstairs.

"Make it clear! What did she come to do—you gave our address to someone else?" Uncle Fenon chased after him aggressively, finally rushing in front of Harry to block the stairs, lighting Harry's chest and spattering : "I don't know if it's the illusion we gave you, but - this home - I will never allow - to be - a concentration camp for freaks!"

"She has a name!" said Harry angrily. "Her name is Hermione, and she's not here to borrow it."

He lowered his head and slipped through the huge gap under Uncle Fernon's arm. "She's here to tell me to get out of here, I'm leaving soon," Harry said in a tone of uncontrollable joy.

"Boy, don't talk to me in that tone—we adopted you! You have to learn to be grateful—"

The bedroom door shut out Uncle Fernon's gruff voice. Harry didn't care at all, he was going to another place soon, and a voice inside was humming with joy.

He looked around and suddenly saw that his room was in disarray - on the floor were sheets of parchment, an inkwell and quills, his unfinished astronomy homework; on the crumbling bedside table was a pile of small A pile of candy, the snack bag brought back from the train was torn in half, and half of the head of a chocolate frog was bitten off; and the books he had been throwing around for the past two weeks, Hedwig's owl cage...

Fortunately, Hermione didn't follow. Harry couldn't help thinking.

He sat down on the bed, bent over and pulled out the box from the bottom of the bed. Several Muggle clothes and wizard robes were piled up in a mess, and the socks Dobby gave him turned over to the top at some point, which looked particularly conspicuous. For the next few minutes, Harry filled the room with the stray books one by one in his suitcase. He thought happily about where he was going next, while recalling where he had put his things.

Locked in the cupboard were snacks, comic books, and unused textbooks, the former being the full set of Mickey Mouse's Adventures comics, the latter the Gilderoy Lockhart book series - Harry had been looking for it opportunity to throw away. Lockhart's true identity is actually a liar. He made a name for himself by putting other people's stories on himself. He also served as a professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts in Harry's second year, but Lockhart's bad behavior was discovered halfway through the school year. He was locked up in Azkaban Prison by the Ministry of Magic.

Harry grinned, and he and Ron and Hermione also contributed.

He opened the wardrobe, rolled the dirty clothes into a ball, stuffed them into the space of the box, and then picked up the purple booklet beside the pillow and placed it on top of the clothes. For a moment, Harry stared at the booklet, stunned. He stared at the writing on the cover—

The Wartime Survival Manual - Licensed by the Ministry of Magic: Protecting Your Home and Family from the Dark Arts.

Holding his breath, Harry cautiously turned to the first page, and read the fourth item over and over again - negotiating a security code with friends and relatives to see that the Death Eaters were using the Potion Potion to impersonate others (see page 2).

His breathing was suddenly rapid and his mouth was dry.

Harry slowed his pace and tiptoed to the window, as if he was doing something bad, and glanced outside quickly—Hermione was gone.

Harry's mind went blank.

How is this going? Is Hermione fake? He swallowed and forced himself to calm down.

Hermione suddenly came to the door and wanted to take him to a place. It was nothing. She gave her the address... But someone should have informed him. Could it be that Sirius was so busy that he forgot about this? But Professor Hepp should not forget.

Harry felt like he was worrying too much. If Hermione was pretending to be a Death Eater, she should have cursed her the first time she saw her, instead of letting him go upstairs to pack up... but he couldn't help it. Doubt, what if the Death Eaters wanted him to leave willingly?

Pretending to be an accident would make it more difficult for subsequent investigators, and the suspicion would only fall on the real Hermione.

Negotiating security codes with friends and family...he didn't even ask where Hermione was going, he was overwhelmed by the sudden joy...

Compound Decoction... He had seen it before, but how to identify it? He was not impressed at all.

Harry glanced out the window again, and Hermione had come back, and—she had clearly spotted Harry on the second floor, smiling at him.

Where did she just go? Who do you talk to?

Harry's heart was pounding.

Crookshanks, this is strong evidence... Death Eaters can't give animals a potion, Hermione had been taught a lesson before, but Harry wasn't sure if it was Transfiguration, he hadn't noticed.

Harry hurriedly carried the box and the cage downstairs, the cage kept hitting the handrail of the stairs, Hedwig let out a dissatisfied cry, yes... Harry suddenly thought when he was standing downstairs, he could find someone to ask if he had any this thing.

But it seems too late. If Hermione was really pretending to be a Death Eater, she wouldn't give him too much time, and even if she delayed a little, the Death Eaters and her companions might rush in the next second.

Harry froze in place, his head numb.

"Boy, what are you waiting for! No one wants to keep you!" Uncle Fenon yelled in the living room, his voice overshadowing the sound of the TV show - "Goal scored! 1-0 lead."

Harry turned his head stiffly, looking at Uncle Fenon, Aunt Petunia, and Dudley, each doing their own thing, as usual. Harry's heart was agitated strangely, and he could Apparate early if he was in danger, but that meant the Dursleys would face unknown risks.

For example, to withstand the wrath of the emptied Death Eaters.

But who made them treat themselves badly, Harry thought, his eyes slowly gliding over the people in the living room, as if re-examining them, judging from a different angle...

"I'm out of ice cream." Dudley's fat arms slapped the table.

"There's something in the fridge, baby," said Aunt Petunia, stacking the plates.

"I want chocolate! Chocolate! Grams! Power!" Dudley exclaimed.

"Okay, Dada." Aunt Petunia said dotingly, she put down the half-packed table and wiped her hands, "Mom will buy it for you, hurry up and come back, you can eat another piece of fried rice during this time. Meat—" She walked towards the door.

Harry stared at her, her hand on the doorknob, his heart lifted.

"Don't go out," he said hoarsely.

Aunt Petunia turned her head in surprise, her eyebrows twisted oddly, her thin lips pursed into a line, and the doting in her eyes quickly cooled.

"You haven't left yet," she said, turning back and putting one hand on the doorknob and twisting it hard.

"Don't go out!" said Harry, who seemed to regain his mobility, stepped forward and pulled Aunt Petunia away from the door, then pulled out his wand.

The Dursleys jumped up screaming. "Put the—that thing—away!" cried Aunt Petunia.

"How dare you!" This was Uncle Fernon.

Harry ignored them. He carefully hid his wand in his sleeve and looked out the window. The Dursleys froze in place, startled by his attitude. Harry pushed open the door, and the noise was clearly coming outside, as Hermione was peeking out into the yard.

Harry walked out slowly.

"What's the matter, haven't you finished packing yet?" Hermione asked.

"I, uh..." Harry said, searching his stomach, "I suddenly have a question, where are we going? Are we going back?" He shrugged his shoulders with a pretentious ease. "You know, I have too many things to pack. It's slow to get up."

"Oh," Hermione didn't doubt, "I don't know either. The professor asked me to come over at seven o'clock. He said that if I come early, I can wait with you at Sirius' rental house first."

Harry was slightly relieved that she at least knew that Sirius had a rental nearby.

He couldn't help complaining and said, "It's only after five o'clock in the afternoon, you came too early."

Hermione snorted, "I have to give you time to clean up, and I haven't been here before. Mom and Dad were worried that they wouldn't be able to find the way, but I didn't expect it to go smoothly-"

"Mum and Dad?" Harry cried.

"Yeah." Hermione looked towards the corner, and Harry followed her gaze to a car parked on the road. He recognized two familiar silhouettes, Mr. and Mrs. Granger, if his memory was correct.

"You told me how unfriendly the Dursleys were," Hermione pursed her lips. "I think—if there are too many people blocking the door, it might get you in trouble."

"Well thought out," Harry stammered, all doubts cleared. But now he didn't know how to go back and explain to the Dursleys. He suddenly turned back nervously, and through the large window of the living room, he could vaguely see two round creatures huddled together, who were also leaning against each other. Aunt Petunia was small and pitiful, like a dress on Dudley.

Harry froze for a moment, his open mouth closed, and he waved his hand in a dejected look.

"I'm going to get my luggage," he said sullenly.

Harry returned to the living room, the trunk and birdcage lying untouched on the floor, the Dursleys huddled in a corner of the living room, as he had seen from the outside. Harry silently lifted the cage, grabbed the handle of the box with his other hand, prayed to himself... and pretended that nothing had happened.

"Boy! Explain what you're up to!" yelled Uncle Fenon, blowing his beard and staring at Harry as he tried to keep Aunt Petunia and Dudley behind. But his plan was obviously in vain, and anyone could look past him and see Dudley, who was as fat as a baby whale behind him.

It was Aunt Petunia, who blushed and seemed to be out of breath.

"I-I misunderstood," Harry said dryly. "The wizarding world has not been peaceful lately. I have to be careful. That person is back."

"Who are you talking about?" asked Uncle Fenon.

"Voldemort," Harry said in a dry voice. Let him go...don't ask questions...you don't know...

"V-what?" Uncle Fenon shook his head, trying to put on a thoughtful expression.

"Back?" Aunt Petunia asked softly from behind. "The... murderer... is he back?"

Uncle Fenon looked at his wife, and then at Harry, with a wiser expression on his face. "I've heard of this name, and he's the one—"

The man who killed Harry's parents.

But no one answered him.

Harry stared at Aunt Petunia, and at first he only found it strange, and there was a grotesque delusion - Voldemort, who was so terrifying in the wizarding world that the wizards were afraid to call him by his first name, was turned down by the Muggle he most despised, Especially a housewife, simply called a murderer, but from Aunt Petunia's pale eyes widened with fear, Harry vaguely realized that he wasn't alone in this room. Know what Voldemort's comeback means.

Aunt Petunia looked at him with a strange look she had never given him before. This made Harry very uncomfortable. The air in the room seemed to make him breathe. He picked up the cage and suitcase with Hedwig and quickly walked out of 4 Privet Drive.

"Let's go," Harry said to Hermione breathlessly.

"What's the matter with you?" Hermione asked as he took Harry's cage, where Hedwig had just been brutally treated, and her amber eyes that were dazed and dazed had become absent-minded. It barked angrily.

"Nothing," said Harry.

"You look like you just got into a fight with someone."

"I-- on the way," said Harry.

Mr. Granger got out of the car and helped Harry put the luggage in the trunk. "Thanks - I'll just carry the cage." Harry said in a panic, sitting in the back seat with Hermione, almost crushing him. Crookshanks, Crookshanks jumped on Hermione's lap and whined at him.

Harry didn't notice that the Grangers were just as silent, just as worried as he was.

"Where are we going next?" asked Mr. Granger in a hoarse voice.

"Cut the intersection and go a little further, it's close," Harry said, and then he heard a low sob.

Harry looked up and saw in the rearview mirror Mrs Granger in the front row wiping the corners of her eyes. The atmosphere in the car seemed to be even more depressing than No. 4, Privet Drive. He couldn't figure out what was going on for a while, so he could only look at Hermione, who shook her head slightly, and her eyes were red.

The car stopped in front of a small red house.

Harry got out of the car with Hedwig's cage, took out his luggage along with Hermione's luggage from the trunk, and walked towards the door. But there was no footsteps behind him, and he turned to see the Grangers hugging their daughter tightly.

Harry suddenly understood the weird atmosphere in the car before - Hermione's parents had long known the news of Voldemort's resurrection, and they even nearly witnessed the incident. She had spent two boring weeks on Privet Drive, but at the same time, the Grangers had a huge psychological burden and were terrified for their daughter.

Finally, Hermione was separated from her parents. She watched them get into the car, the car started, and disappeared around the corner.

Hermione stared motionless at the place where the car had disappeared, and after a long while, she wiped her eyes, and dragged her suitcase towards Harry.

"This is the house Sirius rented?" Hermione asked dully.

"Yes—Hermione, you can stay at home for two months," Harry said, plucking up his courage. "You're not like me—"

"Stop joking, Harry! Do nothing when you know the war is coming?" Hermione interrupted him, saying fiercely, "I don't want to die in the war."

These two chapters are mainly from Harry's perspective, not the author's water plot. The first is to exaggerate the impact of the war, the second is to portray the Dursley family, and the third is to arrange Dudley. There is a foreshadowing about Dudley's future. You can guess if you are interested.