Hogwarts, a Scholar Becomes a God

Latest website: "Thankfully the ground is so soft."

"I thought he was dead!"

"But he didn't even break his glasses."

Tiny whispers sounded in Harry's ears, and he felt like he was in a dream, a dream that he didn't want to wake up from.

Everything around him was so blurry and out of reach. He didn't know where he was, how he got here, or what he was doing before he came.

He only knew that there was no pain on his body, and his whole body was sore and weak, as if he had been beaten severely and then dragged for several kilometers.

"Good thing we finally won, right?"

"Thanks to Harry, those guys are simply the scariest things I've ever seen in my life..."

The scariest thing... the scariest thing... the black shadow with the hood... the cold... the scream...

"No!"

Harry suddenly opened his eyes and sat up from the bed.

He saw the snow-white beds and curtains around him. This was the Hogwarts hospital.

The members of the Gryffindor House Quidditch team, splashed from head to toe with mud, were surrounding his bed. Clark, Hermione and Ron were also there. They looked as if they had just returned from the wet Climb up in the swimming pool.

"Harry!" Fred shouted in surprise. He looked particularly white against the mud. "What do you think?"

Harry's memories seemed to come back quickly: the lightning, the storm... the biting cold and the heat flowing in the blood... the golden snitch... and the dementors...

"What happened?"

Harry said, his sore body could no longer hold up, and he suddenly lay down again, which shocked them all.

"You fell," said Fred. "It must have been—then—fifty feet?"

"We thought you were dead," Alia said, shaking.

Ron made a short, harsh sound in a low voice,

His eyes were terribly bloodshot.

"But what happened in that game," Harry said, "and can we play it again?"

"Don't you remember?" Wood's face was full of surprise, but the joy under the mud could not be concealed. "You are born to be a seeker."

"We won, you caught the Golden Snitch," George said with a smile on his face. "You jumped, it was so dangerous. Even Hufflepuff's Diggory was stunned by your move."

"But it's worth it. It's more than two hundred points," Fred added. "We won fair and aboveboard... Even Digory admits this."

Harry finally felt better, "I don't know... I don't remember... I just saw the dementors, and then there was a white mist around..."

His brain was running rapidly, and he finally remembered something, "During the halftime timeout, Clark came to see me... was it you, Clark?"

He looked at Clark, who smiled and nodded, "It's just a little trick that makes people forget their fear instantly and make them fearless."

That's right, during the game, he locked onto Harry through telepathy and gave him a shot of [Fanatical Mind], turning this guy into a berserker instantly.

"That's great!" Wood patted Clark's shoulder hard, and the ward was filled with a cheerful atmosphere.

"But Headmaster Dumbledore is not very happy." Neville suddenly interrupted.

"Yes, yes, Dumbledore is really angry," Hermione said with a trembling voice. "I've never seen him so angry."

Ron also said: "You caught the Golden Snitch, and when you fell, he ran to the court and caught you with magic. Then he waved his wand at the dementors and shot out silver things, shooting out those terrible things. The guy was driven out of the stadium. Seeing his nervous look, everyone thought you..."

"Isn't this good for me?" Harry couldn't stand the downturn in the atmosphere, so he made a joke and raised his arm at the same time. However, this action affected the injured part and made him grinning strangely. expression.

Everyone laughed kindly.

At this time, Madam Pomfrey from the school hospital heard laughter and came over, telling the team members that Harry needed to rest.

"We'll see you again later." Fred and the others smiled and waved to Harry.

At this moment, Harry suddenly asked, "Has anyone gotten my Nimbus 2000?"

He looked around and didn't find his broom, so he thought it had been put away by them.

However, the laughter in the ward stopped abruptly after Harry asked the question, and everyone quickly looked at each other.

"Oh...Harry..."

"What's wrong?" Harry said, looking at them one by one. Some of them carefully avoided his gaze.

"Well... when you fell, it was blown away by the wind." Clark stood up and said hesitantly, "You know, the wind was so strong at that time."

"Then what?" Harry's Adam's apple rolled and he swallowed, having a bad guess in his mind.

"Then it hit - hit - oh, Harry - it hit the whomping willow."

Harry's heart twisted. The Whomping Willow was a very violent tree. It grew on the edge of the Forbidden Forest. He and Ron had only experienced its power last year.

"Then what?" Harry asked, dreading the answer.

"Well, you know that whomping willow tree," said Ron, "it - it doesn't like people bumping into it."

"Professor Flitwick had just brought it back before you woke up," Hermione said in a low voice.

She slowly reached for the school bag at her feet, turned the bag upside down, and more than a dozen pieces of wood and broom tail fragments fell on the bed. These were the remains of Harry's most faithful broomstick.

Harry stretched out his hand to touch the fragments, but retracted his hand with heartache. He remembered that when he jumped out, he borrowed strength from the broomstick, but he didn't think of this at the time, nor did he. Considered the possible consequences of flying broomsticks.

It’s all your own fault!

Grain collar

The Gryffindors around him lowered their heads, and it didn't feel that good that Harry had sacrificed his broomstick to win for them.

"Harry..." Fred opened his mouth, but he didn't know how to persuade him. In the end, he had to be driven away by Madam Pomfrey in embarrassment, leaving behind a trail of mud.

Clark also knew that in this situation, Harry needed time to be alone to accept all this, so he also called Hermione and Ron to go out together.

Harry lay in the hospital hospital for the next few days, and Madam Pomfrey suggested that he stay there until the weekend.

Harry neither argued with her nor complained, he just refused to let her throw away the fragments of Nimbus 2000.

He knew that this was stupid, and that Nimbus 2000 was beyond repair, but he couldn't help but do it. He felt as if he had lost a best friend, and this friend was pushed away by him at the time, which made him feel uncomfortable. He fell into deep self-blame.

During this period, many people came to visit him, all trying to cheer him up.

Hagrid gave him a bouquet of centipede flowers, but they looked more like yellow cabbage; Ginny Weasley came with a red face and gave him a homemade get well card. If you close the card and press it under a dish or piece of fruit, it will scream and sing.

The members of the Gryffindor team came to see Harry again on Sunday morning, and Wood even suggested that he buy another broomstick, and the team could help apply to Professor McGonagall to sponsor some activity funds.

"You have to cheer up quickly. Of course I know how sad it would be for a Quidditch player to lose his first broomstick, but that's what we have to go through. The top Quidditch players will be scrapped just by training every year. A dozen brooms." Although Wood's words were unkind, they were extremely reasonable.

However, no matter what others said or did, nothing could make Harry feel better, because people only knew half of his troubles.

There were some things that he didn't tell anyone. During that Quidditch match, he saw the "unknown" thing, which was the big black dog in the stands of the Quidditch field.

He said nothing to anyone because Harry knew that if he did, Ron would panic and Hermione would laugh at him.

However, the fact is that it has appeared twice, and both times there have been almost fatal incidents: the first time, he was almost run over by a Knight bus; the second time, he fell from the ground fifty feet fell off the broomstick.

Is the ominousness going to haunt him until he really dies? Will he have to be wary of this beast for the rest of his life?

And then there were the dementors, which made Harry feel sick and humiliated every time he thought about them.

Everyone said they were scary, but no one else was like him. They fainted when they came near... and no one else heard the voices of their dying parents repeatedly in their heads.

Yes, now Harry knew whose voice he heard in his coma belonged to him.

At night, he lay on the hospital bed, staring at the streaks of moonlight on the ceiling.

At this time, he heard her words and heard those words repeated over and over in his mind.

Those were his mother's last words on her deathbed. She worked so hard to protect him from Voldemort.

He also heard Voldemort's laughter before he killed his mother - and whenever he fell asleep, he would have dreams in his sleep, filled with wet, slimy, rotten hands and creepy sharp edges. laughter.

This terrible situation has been haunting him, and he often wakes up in the middle of the night just because he hears his mother's voice again.

Harry even thought that if this situation continued, he would go crazy.

So when he came out of the school hospital, he couldn't wait to find the person in his image who could definitely help him.

"Clark, I have something I want to talk to you about."

Yes, Ron and Hermione may not be very reliable, but the smart and knowledgeable Clark can definitely help him. He is so reliable and so understanding, Harry has always believed in this.

And things developed just as Harry thought.

"Is there a problem?"

On a weekend afternoon, Clark was sitting at the table, discussing the Defense Against the Dark Arts essay assignment with Hermione and Neville.

Harry looked at Hermione and Neville beside him, but said nothing.

Clark understood what he meant, stood up, motioned to Hermione and Neville to continue, and then took Harry back to the dormitory.

"We are the only ones here now. What do you want from me, Harry?" Clark sat beside the bed, his tone was very gentle, his attitude was very sincere, and he seemed very trustworthy.

Under his gaze that seemed to penetrate people's hearts, Harry only hesitated for a moment before blurting out the question he had to ask. When he wanted to stop, it was already too late.

"Why, why do those dementors affect me like that? Am I-"

Harry couldn't speak any more. Clark crossed his fingers, tilted his whole body forward slightly, rested his elbows on his thighs, and put all the weight of his upper body on it, which made him look shrunk and reduced a lot. Sense of presence.

"Say, if you want to overcome fear, the first thing you have to do is face it. There are only two of us here, so you can speak out boldly!"

Clark persuaded Harry very calmly, and looking at his calm face, Harry relaxed.

"Ever since I met those dementors during the last Quidditch match, I've been having nightmares all night long."

"What are you dreaming about?" Clark's posture remained unchanged. A ray of winter sunlight shined through the window into the dormitory, falling on his black hair and young face, giving him a bright golden light. .

Harry suppressed the discomfort in his heart and recounted his dream, "There were screams, a green light, and a woman's cry... That was my mother. She was praying to Voldemort at the time, and Voldemort wanted to kill me. my mother……"

"Mother's love is great," Clark sighed. "She did not forget to protect you at the last moment of her life. I think she must have only had you in her eyes at that time."

Harry was affected by his words, and there were tears in his eyes. At this time, Clark asked again, "So, Harry, why are you running away again?"

"I wasn't trying to escape..." Harry denied.

However, Clark immediately pointed out his problem, "Since you came to me, it means that you are troubled by this dream, you want to get rid of what you saw, and you regard your mother's love for you as a nightmare, Isn’t this an escape?”

Clark's words were like a sharp knife, cutting open Harry's chest forcefully, letting him see his internal organs.

Harry's face was very ugly, and his voice raised a few points unconsciously, "I don't want to escape anything, I just don't want to know over and over again in my sleep how my mother was killed by Voldemort!"

After saying this, Harry couldn't hold back any longer. He buried his head, and his crystal tears fell to the ground one by one.

Clark stood up, walked over to him, and put his hand on Harry's shoulder.

"You must miss her, Harry?"

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