HP Magic Biography

Harry froze, his feet were on the stairs, his face tight.

"Boy! Come here!" With a mixture of fear and anger, Harry slowly moved his feet from the stairs and turned to follow the Dursleys. After the darkness outside, the carefully cleaned kitchen emits a strange, unreal flash.

Aunt Petunia placed Dudley on a chair, but Dudley was still blue, looking wet and cold.

Uncle Vernon stood in front of the drain cover and stared at Harry through his small, slit-like eyes.

"What did you do to my son?" he growled in a threatening tone.

"Nothing," Harry replied, knowing that Uncle Vernon would not believe him.

"What did he do to you, Dudley?" Aunt Petunia asked in a trembling voice. She was now sponge cleaning the vomit in front of Dudley's leather jacket. "Does it—does it—you know what I mean, dear? Does he—does he use that thing?"

Dudley nodded slowly and tremblingly. "I didn't!" Harry cried out when Aunt Petunia wailed and Uncle Vernon raised his fist, "I didn't do anything to him! That's not me! That's—"

But at this moment, a long-eared owl suddenly swooped in through the kitchen window. Almost hitting the top of Uncle Vernon’s head, it glided through the kitchen, dropping the large parchment letter that it held in its mouth at Harry’s feet, then turned gracefully, and the end of its wings crossed the refrigerator. Then he flew outside again and rose rapidly, and disappeared through the garden.

"Owl!" Uncle Vernon roared, the violent blood vessels throbbing angrily on his face, and he slammed the kitchen window shut. "Another owl! I will never let another owl into my house!"

But Harry had torn open the envelope and pulled out the letter inside, and he was hit hard somewhere in the heart.

Dear Mr. Potter:

We have received information that you cast the patron saint spell in the Muggle residential area at 9:23 tonight, in front of a Muggle. This behavior has violated Article 70 of the Regulations Restricting the Use of Witchcraft by Minors, which will result in your expulsion from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. A representative of the Ministry of Magic will arrive at your residence in a short time and destroy your wand. Since you violated Article 3 of the "International Union of Magicians on Confidentiality" last time, you have received an official warning. We regret to inform you that you must attend the Ministry of Magic at 9 AM on August 2 A disciplinary hearing.

I hope you are all well, and sincerely, Mafalda Hopkeck, the Ministry of Magic uses the Magic Office inappropriately.

Harry read the letter twice. He could only vaguely realize the conversation between Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia. Everything was cold and numb in his mind. This fact penetrated his consciousness like a paralyzing dart.

He was expelled from Hogwarts.

It's all over. He can never go back.

He looked up at the Dursleys. Uncle Vernon's face was purple, and he was roaring loudly, his fists still held high.

Aunt Petunia had Dudley's arms around him, who vomited again. Harry's briefly numb brain looked sober again.

A representative of the Ministry of Magic will arrive at your residence soon and destroy your wand. This can only mean one thing. That is he must run right now.

Harry didn't know where he was going, but he was sure of one thing. He needed his wand whether it was at Hogwarts or outside.

In a dreamlike state, he pulled out his wand and turned and left the kitchen.

"Where do you think you are going?" Uncle Vernon called. When Harry refused to answer, he walked through the kitchen and heavily locked the door to the living room.

"We're not done yet, kid!"

"Get out of the way," Harry said calmly.

"You will stay here and explain what happened to my son."

"I will curse you if you don't let go," Harry said, while raising his wand.

"You can't pull that thing out in front of me!" Uncle Vernon shouted. "I know that you are not allowed to use magic outside that crazy building that you call a school!"

"This crazy building has expelled me," Harry said. "So I can do whatever I like. You have three seconds left. One...two..."

A loud crackling of glass filled the bedroom. Aunt Petunia screamed again. Deliberately ignoring Uncle Vernon's screams and squatting down quickly, so for the third time this evening, Harry searched for the source of the commotion, which was not caused by him.

He immediately spotted it, a dizzy, pleated barn owl (this is a typical feature of the poor Weasley owl, it is a real miracle that it did not die on the way to deliver the letter... Giant...) was squatting on the window sill outside the kitchen, just when it hit the closed window.

Pretend not to hear Uncle Vernon crying "Owl!"

Harry walked through the room and opened the window.

The owl's legs were joined together, with a small roll of parchment in its mouth, shaking its feathers, and ran away as soon as Harry got the letter.

Harry opened the second letter with a trembling hand, which was rather scribbled and used cheap black ink.

Harry:

Dumbledore had just arrived at the Ministry of Magic, and he was trying to settle the matter. Don't leave your uncle and aunt's home. Don't cast any magic again. Don't hand over your magic wand.

Arthur Weasley.

Dumbledore is trying his best to settle this matter. What does this mean? How much power did Dumbledore have to ignore the instructions of the Ministry of Magic? So, does he have a chance to return to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry?

A little hope sprouted in Harry's heart, but was quickly strangled by fear; what could he do to refuse to hand over his wand without using magic?

He will have to fight a representative of the Ministry of Magic, and if he does, he will be thrown into the Azkaban Wizarding Prison, not just expelled.

His mind is running fast, he can run away at the risk of being wanted by the Ministry of Magic, or stay here waiting for the Ministry of Magic to find him. He felt that the former option was very tempting, but he knew that Mr. Weasley was sincere, and in any case, it would be better not to make the incident worse before Dumbledore tried to resolve the incident.

"Correct," Harry said. "I have changed my mind. I want to stay here."

He rushed to the kitchen table to face Dudley and Aunt Petunia.

The Dursleys seemed puzzled by the drastic change in Harry's thinking. Aunt Petunia stared at Uncle Vernon in despair. The blood vessels on the purple face of the latter were more prominent than the ones just now.

"Where did all these **** owls come from?" he complained.

"The first is the owl directly under the Ministry of Magic, it came to fire me," Harry said calmly. He was pricking his ears to catch any movement outside, and if a representative of the Ministry of Magic was approaching here, it would be better to answer Uncle Vernon's question more concisely and quietly than to make him angry and roar.

"The second one comes from the father of my friend Ron, who works at the Ministry of Magic."

"Ministry of Magic?" Uncle Vernon cried, "A guy like you is in the government! Oh, this can explain everything, all things, there is no doubt that our country is dying."

When Harry didn't respond, Uncle Vernon stared at him, then slapped him, "Then why did they fire you?"

"Because I use magic."

"Aha!" Uncle Vernon called, and at the same time he punched his fist **** the top of the refrigerator, some low-calorie snacks belonging to Dudley poured out and spilled on the floor.

"So you used magic! What did you do to Dudley?"

"I didn't do anything," Harry said, his voice a little lacking in calmness, "That's not me—"

"It's you." Dudley murmured without warning. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia immediately signaled Harry to be quiet, and at the same time bent their waists above the force.

"Go on, son," said Uncle Vernon. "What did he do?"

"Tell us, dear," Aunt Petunia also whispered.

"He pointed his wand at me." Dudley murmured. "Yes, I did this, but I didn't use it—" Harry became angry. "But..."

Harry didn't seem to know how to explain it. It was obvious that he saved the pig, and the dementor almost sucked out Dudley's soul, but the Muggles couldn't see it...the dementors , Only those who can capture the magic can discover...

"Shut up!" Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia called together. "Go on, son," Uncle Vernon repeated, his moustache curled up in rage.

"Everything has turned black," Dudley screamed hoarsely, shaking all over. "Everything went dark. Then I heard—I heard a voice in my head."

Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia exchanged an absolutely terrifying look. If they hate magic the most in this world-this one is to their neighbors who lie more than do things, then the ban on hoses is followed closely (due to the drought, the prohibition of tap water for gardening Water Act)...People always love and hate things like this. The Dursleys obviously thought Dudley had lost his mind.

"What did you hear?" Aunt Petunia said pale, her eyes filled with tears.

But Dudley seemed unable to speak any more.

He trembled again and shook his fat blond head vigorously, even though the numbness of fear had been entrenched in Harry since the arrival of the first owl, he still felt a certain degree of curiosity. .

The Dementor allows a person to relive the worst moment of his life. What would it be that Dudley was forced to hear that he was spoiled, overeated, and bullied the weak since he was a child?

Bullied by him?

I remember that when Fred and George came, Dudley was most afraid of him, not to...

Harry couldn't think of it, after all, the difference between Dudley and him was too big, an ordinary pig... the difference between a wizard...

"So how did you fall upside down next, son?" Uncle Vernon asked in an unusually calm tone that he would only use around dying patients.

"I tripped on my feet," Dudley said weakly. "And later—" He pointed his finger at the fat chest.

Harry understood. Dudley was recalling the clammy cold that filled his lungs, and all the happiness was sucked from him. "It's horrible," Dudley called hoarsely. "Cold. Really cold."

"Okay," Uncle Vernon said in a tone that forced herself to be calm, while Aunt Petunia anxiously put a hand on Dudley's forehead to feel his body temperature.

"Then what happened, Dudley?"

"Feel--feel--feel as if--like hell..."

"As if you will never be happy again." Harry added dullly. +

"Yes," Dudley said quietly, his body still trembling.

"So!" Uncle Vernon's voice returned to that high-pitched tone, as if he was clarifying the facts. "You used some crazy spells on my son, so he heard a certain voice, and thought he was-doomed to a miserable fate, or something else, right?"

"How many times do you want me to tell you?" Harry said, his temper and voice improved. "That's not me! Those are two dementors!"

"Two-what are you talking nonsense?"

"Photo-soul-strange," Harry said clearly and slowly. "Two."

"Then what do these creatures in **** do?"

"They guard the wizard prison, Azkaban," Aunt Petunia said. After saying these words and after two seconds of silence, Aunt Petunia covered her mouth as if she let a disgusting curse slip from her mouth.

Uncle Vernon stared at her with wide eyes.

Harry's brain was dizzy. Mrs. Feige has done it once—isn’t Aunt Petunia too?

"How did you know about this?" Uncle Vernon asked Aunt Petunia in surprise. Aunt Petunia also looked at herself in amazement. She stared at Uncle Vernon with a scared apology, then gently lowered her hand and showed her horse-like teeth.

"I heard—that terrible kid—tell her about the Dementors many years ago," she said hesitantly.

"If you are talking about my parents, why don't you use their names?" Harry said loudly, but Aunt Petunia ignored him. She looked scared and flustered.

Harry fainted.

Except for the outbreak a year ago, Harry had never heard Aunt Petunia mention his mother, and the only time his aunt screamed that Harry's mother was a grotesque person.

Weird thinking?

For Muggles ~www.wuxiaspot.com~ Wizards are indeed a type of problematic thinking, and in the eyes of wizards, Muggles are the kind of people with incomplete spiritual development...

However, Harry was very surprised that when Aunt Petunia did her best to pretend that the magical world was completely non-existent, she could still remember the information about the scaly feathers of the magical world that she had heard years ago.

You know, from the time when my mother went to Hogwarts, to their death—to when I went to Hogwarts, the years...

Uncle Vernon opened his mouth, closed it again, opened his mouth again, and closed it again. Obviously he didn't know what to say. When he opened his mouth for the third time, he finally said hoarsely: "So-therefore-they-they Are they-they really exist, and they are-real?"

Aunt Petunia nodded.

Uncle Vernon saw Dudley and Harry from Aunt Petunia, as if he wanted someone to tell him that it was "April Fools' Day." When he saw that no one was doing this, he spoke again, but the poor proverb he had finally found was interrupted by the visit of the third owl tonight.