Hogwarts, a Scholar Becomes a God

To be honest, living in an old 13th century castle is not a pleasant experience.

Early in the morning, before dawn, in this room transformed from a towering tower of an ancient castle, Harry, who was not sleeping soundly, was called by ducks in the Rocky River outside the castle, and drifted in the dark black forest He was awakened by the barking of dogs coming in.

The nightmare last night and the pain from the lightning scar on his forehead kept him awake all night, so that when he woke up early in the morning, when he raised his head in a daze, he was struck by the giant horn hanging on the wall in the gloomy room. The reindeer head was taken aback.

This is a real thing, and it is said that Clark's grandfather harvested it when he was hunting in Russia.

But when he woke up early in the morning and saw this, it really scared the sleepy Harry.

"Is there anything I can do for you, Master Harry?"

Perhaps because he heard the movement coming from Harry's room, with a crisp whistle, a house elf appeared in front of Harry out of thin air.

This little thing is wearing a decent small suit and a red bow tie around his neck. Although he doesn't look very good, his well-dressed appearance is a heaven compared to the Dobby Harry met in the second grade. an underground.

Only a kind master like Clark would dress his house-elf servant in such a suit.

"This morning's breakfast includes bacon omelette, buttered toast, fried sausage, cherry tomatoes, and milk. If you need anything else, you can also tell me, and I will arrange the kitchen to do it.

In addition, the water temperature in the bathroom is now 47 degrees, you can also choose to take a shower first..."

"Enough, enough. I don't need anything, you can step back first." Harry waved his hands again and again, rejecting the house elf's service.

This little thing could only leave with a disappointed face.

Harry sighed, so it's not suitable for him to live here, he can't even stand being served, maybe he wasn't born to enjoy life.

However, the Chinese silk quilt from Clark's family is really comfortable, and I don't know if it will be the same at the godfather's house. If not, maybe Clark can give him a set for Christmas as a gift.

Harry slipped out of the silk quilt naked, thinking wildly.

In early August, the western highlands of Scotland have already entered autumn, so that as soon as they got out of the quilt, the cold wind blew, and it was a chill.

He quickly put on his clothes, crossed the room, went to the cloakroom next door, and looked into the full-length mirror that stood there.

In the mirror, a thin fourteen-year-old boy was looking at him too, with green, bewildered eyes beneath his tousled black hair.

Harry looked more closely at the scar on his forehead in the mirror. Although he couldn't see anything unusual, the tingling sensation that still remained told him that everything that happened last night was not just a dream.

He tried his best to recall the scenes in his dreams last night, but after a good night's sleep, those dreams were like vases behind frosted glass, which had become blurred.

It seemed to be a very gloomy place, a lot of people he didn't know... One person was resurrected... He frowned, closed his eyes tightly, concentrated his thoughts, and desperately remembered...

But it couldn't be done... All Harry knew was that there was a wave of red light rushing towards him, and he felt a great surge of fear, and then he woke up suddenly... Maybe, it was because of his scar Sudden severe pain?

Also, who is that old man?

Harry was sure there had been an old man, no, a wizard, but he didn't know what had become of that man?

Alas, it's getting more and more chaotic.

He buried his face in his hands, preventing himself from seeing the scene in the cloakroom, desperately immersed in that gloomy room.

However, it's like trying to hold the water in your hands,

The harder he tried to grasp those details, the faster they slipped through his fingers...

Forget it, don't think about it.

Harry lifted his face from his hands, opened his eyes, and stared around the bedroom as though expecting to see something out of the ordinary.

But it was empty here, except for a few pajamas for sleeping at night, a few suitcases and his own clothes.

Harry changed his clothes, walked into the bathroom next to the cloakroom, washed up in this luxuriously decorated room, and returned to the bedroom again.

Like the bathroom, the bedroom is luxuriously furnished.

Looking around, in the aristocratic room, there are palm wood bookcases full of yellowed old books, owl specimens that still look bright, stained glass windows depicting the coming of Christ and the last judgment, and intriguing Renaissance-style oil paintings. Set in the middle ages when the Plantagenet dynasty began.

But Harry's mind was not on this, after all he had been looking at these things for several days.

He walked to the window, opened the curtains, and looked at the natural scenery shrouded in the morning light outside.

Because the room is on the tower, looking out of the window, you can see the clear river at a glance, just under the cliff where the castle is located, flowing quietly.

Along the river, there are large expanses of green grass, endless dark green forests, and old-fashioned farms with red roofs occasionally dotted among them.

Because it was close to early morning, Harry even saw some shepherds driving a large flock of sheep out of the farm, which was a leisurely and harmonious pastoral scene.

And yet... and yet... Harry went back to the bed restlessly, sat down, and ran another finger over his scar.

It wasn't the pain in his scar that bothered him; Harry was used to pain and injury.

Although Hogwarts is a school of magic and magic, Harry encountered all kinds of weird things and various injuries every year in it.

For him, pain has become commonplace.

Since you went to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Witchcraft and Wizardry and are good at causing trouble, there is absolutely no way to avoid these accidents and injuries.

But the last time the scar on his forehead had flared up was because Voldemort was nearby, and that was what made Harry uneasy... Voldemort couldn't be here at this moment... Voldemort lurking next to Clark's house?

This kind of thinking is absurd and absolutely impossible... Clark told him that this castle, like Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, is also shrouded in magic, and not everyone can find it.

Thinking of Clark, Harry slowly mustered up his courage. At least in his opinion, you can always trust Clark.

Maybe he could tell Clark about his dream last night...

Harry thought to himself, it seemed that besides Clark, he had no one to talk to.

His godfather, Sirius Black, was his father's original guardian, but the two had only met each other not long ago, and Harry was not that familiar with him.

Headmaster Dumbledore, Harry is in awe of him, but he can't tell whether there is more "respect" or "awe" in it. Anyway, every time he is in front of him, Harry always feels Very stiff.

As for the others, Ron had a big mouth, and Hermione and Clark were so close that talking to her was no different than talking to Clark.

Oh, by the way, and his aunt and uncle, but Harry ruled that out first.

Harry never told them the details of his life in the wizarding world.

How absurd it would be, when they woke up, for him to tell them that his scar was aching, and that he feared Voldemort was lurking nearby!

Well, basically, it was because of Voldemort that Harry had to live with the Dursleys.

If it weren't for Voldemort, Harry wouldn't have the lightning-shaped scar on his forehead.

Without Voldemort, Harry's parents would still be alive...

Just as Harry was thinking, a knock on the door suddenly woke him up. It turned out that the house-elf had come again and asked him if he wanted breakfast.

And they informed him that Clark was already waiting in the restaurant.

Harry got up and opened the door, and followed the house-elf downstairs to the dining room.

Along the way he had to carefully dodge the taxidermy of a seven-colored peacock, two white lions, and a long golden python that Clark's grandfather had hunted.

When he came to the dining room, Harry found that Clark was already sitting at the table.

It's not next to the dining table more than ten meters away, but another smaller table next to it.

Harry remembered the first time he had breakfast at the Clarks', and made a joke.

He was sitting on the long dining table at the time, and after eating, Clark told him that the dining table was just an antique decoration, and no one had eaten on it for hundreds of years.

"Harry, did you sleep well last night?"

Clark was cutting sausages and simple with a knife. After seeing Harry, he greeted him.

"Okay..." Harry hesitated.

Clark looked up at him sensitively, "That's not good, why are you still in bed? Your dark circles are popping out."

"No," Harry sat down on the chair, and the food automatically appeared on his dinner plate, "I had a dream last night..."

Then, while eating breakfast, Harry told Clark all the dreams he had last night.

"Ghostly castles, old wizards, women, mysterious people in red robes, seas of blood and mummies, Harry, I told you a long time ago, don't watch movies like "Four Hundred Years of Surprise."

Clark said before swallowing the scrambled eggs in his mouth.

"You think I'm just a dream?!" Harry looked disappointed.

"How is it possible, I was just joking." Clark laughed when he saw his expression, "Do you still remember the divination class we took last semester?"

Clarke's words brought back Harry's bad memories, Professor Trelawney's strange voice, the stuffy attic, and the sweet and cloying incense...

"For occultism, dreams are sometimes more than just dreams."

He put down his knife and fork and wiped his mouth with a napkin.

"Wizards themselves have a strong spirituality, and sleeping is an act of releasing self-limitation and releasing the subconscious.

In this case, the wizard in his sleep often has the ability to perceive and receive information from the spirit world.

You said that you saw some information in your sleep, this is normal, and it is even a common skill of a fortuneteller..."

Harry opened his mouth to speak, but Clark shook his head first.

"Of course, I haven't heard that the Potter family has the talent of prophets, so the dream you had last night should not be a prophecy."

As he spoke, he took another deep look at the lightning scar on Harry's forehead.

"In addition to what you said about Voldemort, I have reason to believe that as Voldemort's power increases, there must be some kind of strange connection between you and him."

"I don't want to have any connection with that murderer!" Harry said dissatisfied.

"That's up to you. Unless you learn Occlumency, you can unilaterally block this connection."

Seeing that Harry wanted to ask another question about Occlumency, Clark stood up.

"Okay, don't panic about this, let's try the "Black Book of the Dead" again, and go through the procedures of resurrecting the dead.

In the afternoon we have to go to your godfather's house, this is the last experiment. "

As soon as Clark said this, he immediately diverted Harry's attention, and he hurriedly finished the last bite of the fried egg without even wiping his mouth, and followed Clark's pace.

The place where the resurrection experiment is carried out is in the basement of the Prewett family castle, and it takes several steps to get there.

And the further down, not only the light is getting darker and the temperature is getting lower and lower, even the atmosphere is a bit eerie.

Almost every half step, there is a pair of armor full of vicissitudes, creaking and twisting its head to look at them.

Speaking of it, this huge castle built in the 13th century has a history of more than 600 years.

It was originally built by the Comyn family and is located on the banks of the Loch River outside the center of Fort William. It is considered to be one of the best preserved castles in Scottish history.

The castle even played an important role during the Civil War between Scotland and England in the 17th century, where a fierce battle took place.

In that battle, a total of 1,500 people died here, and since then, strange things have always happened in this castle.

So in 1654, the owner of the castle built a new wooden castle not far away, which later became Fort William.

And this castle named Inveroch was abandoned until the Clark family discovered its special features and transformed it into their ancestral home.

Of course, the Prewett family can't do anything to seize people's property. They bought the land in the name of the company and built a five-star Inverroche Castle Hotel on the side.

As for this castle, in the eyes of Magu, it has long been turned into a relic known as Old Inverroch Castle, and many tourists come here every year.

Of course, for Clark, this kind of medieval castle is actually not suitable for living.

Occasionally staying here for 1 or 2 nights is okay, but it is really unbearable for a long time, especially those eerie feelings and huge building area, which always make people feel a little less homely.

Compared to here, Clark still prefers his big apartment in London, with convenient transportation and a modern environment, perhaps it is more suitable for a young man like him.

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