The days of hanging out at Hogwarts

"[Fluorescence Flashing]"

Under the weak white light of the illumination spell, Harry looked straight at the two black figures in front of him. The huge hooded figure was suspended high on the ground. No feet or face could be seen under the robe, and there was no sound. It floated over without rest, seeming to swallow the darkness bit by bit as it moved.

A pair of sticky, scabbed gray hands stretched out from the Dementor's robes, and an increasingly biting coldness hit his face. A putrid and ominous breath filled his lungs, making Harry breathless and he stumbled. He took two steps back.

Dudley quickly backed away when he saw this. He couldn't see the dementors, but he could hear a whisper in his ear, as if a corpse was breathing next to his ear. It was blurry, but the chill was infiltrating.

"Calling the gods to protect..."

Harry instinctively recited this spell, probably because he hadn't practiced the Patronus Charm for a long time, and he paused for a moment, feeling that this spell was a bit awkward to pronounce.

Biting his tongue, Harry reorganized the key points of casting the spell and read word by word: "[Calling God's Guard]"

Wisps of silver smoke emerged from the tip of the staff and formed into a tall silver stag. The stag, covered in silver light, kicked its front hooves, lowered its head, pointed its two antlers in front, and stabbed straight at the camera. Where the soul monster's heart is.

The silver antlers stabbed two Dementors respectively, picked them up and threw them into the air. The Dementors let out a hoarse exhalation and fled into the air, disappearing into the boundless darkness.

The stag looked back and turned into a silver light to break through the blockade.

In an instant, the stars, moon and street lamps illuminated the alley again, a warm and gentle breeze blew by, the sound of rustling leaves came from the neighbor's garden, and the sound of cars on the street outside filled my ears.

Harry stood motionless, his chest heaving violently. He didn't feel tired. In addition to the panic that had not dissipated, there was also a little secret excitement.

Dementors are here, in Little Whinging...

Was it an accident?

Or has Voldemort discovered him?

Dudley was dripping with cold sweat, his face turned blue, and his body could not help but tremble slightly. The touch of decay and death was so real. Harry's performance proved that there must be something terrifying ahead, but he could not see anything, and he was filled with unspeakable fear. It was like the muddy water mixed with humus in a swamp penetrated deep into the bone marrow.

"Are you okay, Dudley?"

The questioning voice awakened Dudley from his dazed state. The residual heat of the summer night gradually brought him back to consciousness. Two dry and cracked lips trembled a few times. Dudley pushed Harry away roughly, his eyebrows raised angrily: " What the hell are you doing!"

Catching a glimpse of the wooden stick, Dudley took a few steps back as if he was electrocuted. Without waiting for Harry to explain, he fled towards the Dursleys in panic, without looking back, wishing that his legs would fly off.

"Eh……"

Harry watched him turn into Crescent Street, and just as he was about to catch up, he suddenly heard heavy running footsteps behind him. He quickly turned his wand over and pointed at the person.

The eccentric old neighbor ran over panting, her gray and white hair spilled out from the hairnet, a jingling mesh bag hung on her wrist, and her feet were almost out of the pair of plaid boots. The thick slippers slipped out.

"Mrs. Figg?" Harry was about to hide his wand quickly.

"Stop hiding, silly boy! What if there are still their people around?"

Mrs. Figg's voice was shrill, she clutched the handkerchief tightly in both hands, and said anxiously: "Oh, I must kill Mundungus Fletcher! I told him long ago that if he dares to leave without permission, When he went to sell those crucibles from unknown sources, I skinned him alive, and look at the result now! Fortunately, I asked Kick to tip me off..."

Suddenly hearing the wizarding words "dementor" and "crucible" from the mouth of this old neighbor who likes to raise cats, Harry couldn't help but be a little stunned: "You... you are a wizard?"

"I'm a squib, let's go. We said on the road that it's not safe here." Mrs. Figg looked around warily, pulling Harry's clothes and walking towards Privet Drive: "Mundungs ​​is the wizard. Today He was responsible for your safety and should have been on duty until midnight, but he ran away!"

"This Mundungus has been following me... wait!" Harry's eyes widened in surprise, "It turns out to be him! He Apparated at the door of my house!"

"Yeah, yeah, luckily I arranged for Tick to hide under a car just in case..." Mrs. Figg kept looking around, like her cat, and saw Harry inserting his wand back into his jeans. He screamed, "Don't put your wand down. I can't help you. I don't have much ability. I can't even transform a tea bag."

"Don't worry about the Statute of Secrecy now. You will inevitably be punished anyway. You will die for a fire dragon, and you will die for a dragon egg. Speaking of the Act for the Reasonable Restraint of Minor Wizards..." Mrs. Figg and Harry were at the same time. I noticed the figure at the corner of the alley and couldn't help but feel my heart in my throat.

It wasn't until she got closer and saw the person's face clearly that she relaxed. Mrs. Figg whispered: "Oh, it's Mr. Prentiss... Don't put the wand away, kid, haven't I told you all the time? , it doesn’t work for me.”

"Why didn't you tell me you were a squib before, Mrs. Figg? I've been to your house so many times..."

Harry recalled the days when he lived in a cramped stairwell. When the Dursleys and the three of them went out for business, they would always entrust him to the care of Mrs. Figg. Her attitude was not very good.

"Dumbledore asked me to keep an eye on you, but not to say anything. You were too young at the time. I'm sorry I made you unhappy, Harry, but if the Dursleys feel If you like coming to my house, they will never let you come again.”

"So, Dumbledore has been sending people to follow me?"

"Yes, of course. After what happened in June, do you still expect him to let you wander around alone? Boy, they told me you were very smart..."

Mrs. Figg's voice was a little sad, and she wrung her handkerchief tightly with her hands: "Now is not the time to talk about this. Alas... How could Mundungus leave? He should be on duty until midnight. Where should I find him? I How do I report this to Dumbledore? I can't apparate..."

"I have an owl I can lend you."

"Harry, you don't understand! Dumbledore needs to take action as soon as possible. Maybe you don't believe it, but I must remind you that the Ministry of Magic knows now because they have a way to detect the use of magic by minors-"

"Zongsi, right?"

Harry interrupted her murmuring, and the face with black hair and black eyes appeared in front of his eyes, and a smile appeared at the corners of his mouth unconsciously, "The Ministry of Magic will not know, because my friends have already removed the traces for me."

Mrs. Figg opened her mouth, with an incredible expression on her face, and unconsciously murmured: "Oh, my dear..."

At this moment, there was a sudden sharp explosion in the air in front of them, and then a strong smell of tobacco and alcohol arose. A short, fat man with an unshaven beard and wearing a tattered coat suddenly appeared in front of them.

Two short bow legs, long and messy ginger hair, and a pair of swollen and bloodshot eyes made his face look as sad as a short-legged hunting dog.

Mrs. Figg glared at the man: "Mundungus Fletcher, I'm going to kill you!"

Mundungus was holding the invisibility cloak produced by Borgin Blog Shop in his hand. He was so frightened that he shrank his neck. He looked at Mrs. Figg and then at Harry: "What happened, Figg? Didn't you say that?" Not revealing your identity?"

"Fuck you for not revealing your identity! The dementors are here, you useless liar who is evading responsibility!"

"Dementors?" Mundungus repeated with a horrified expression, "Dementors, here?"

"Yes, it's right here, you worthless piece of stinking shit, right here! The dementors attacked the children you were in charge of! And you just know how to sell those stolen cauldrons! I told you not to go there. !" Mrs. Figg picked up her handbag and hit Mundungus on the face and neck with great force.

"I...well, I...this, this business is a rare opportunity. Look -"

"Bang bang..."

"Ouch! That's enough...that's enough, you crazy old tanuki! You have to send someone to tell Dumbledore!"

"Yes! You'd better tell him yourself! Why are you! Not here! Help!"

"I'm going right now, I'm going right now!"

Mundungus put down the arm that protected his head. His face was already bruised and swollen. With another ear-piercing explosion, he disappeared from the spot.

…

Hampstead Gardens, 9pm.

Loren was sitting next to the sofa, waiting for Professor Granger to review his Charms homework - "Analysis of the Basic Principles of Teleportation Magic with Similar Effects but Completely Different Implementation Paths".

The thesis assigned by Professor Flitwick required spells with similar effects and did not specify teleportation magic. If possible, Loren would prefer to analyze the basic principles of the Levitation Spell and the Summoning Spell.

There is no need to look up information. Just lay out the origins and improvement processes of the two magics, then excerpt a few paragraphs of analysis of the magic principles from Hermione's notebook, and finally make up a conclusion, and a standard paper is completed.

"Unfortunately, Professor Granger has other requests..." Loren muttered, glancing to the side.

Hermione was wearing a summer silk nightgown with a stern face. She was sitting on the sofa, flipping through a paper in her hand. The desk lamp on the small wooden cabinet cast a soft light, illuminating the slightly yellowed parchment in her hand and the paper on it. Scrawled densely packed letters:

"Before the Hogwarts Express, portkeys were a way to get students to wizarding schools without attracting Muggle attention... Every year one in three students failed to find their portkeys, or missed them. In addition, many students will be late due to the transmission time, and the main symptoms are nausea and hysteria..."

"Compared with the mainstream teleportation method, Floo Network is not without its shortcomings. Due to the ashes, heat and tension, clearly speaking the destination in the fire often goes wrong. Although more serious cases rarely occur Accidents, but that doesn’t mean there were none… One day in 1855, the witch Violet Diliman jumped into the fireplace after quarreling with her husband, choked and burped the address of her mother’s home, and disappeared. In the fire, I searched to no avail, and did not reappear until twenty years later..."

Hermione flipped through the pages, and there was no detailed introduction about the witch Violet Diliman. She couldn't help but raise her head and asked in confusion: "What happened next, where has she been for the past twenty years?"

Loren glanced at her nightgown and felt her throat was a little tight: "She said the wrong place and showed up at the home of a handsome and wealthy wizard in Bury St. Edmunds. The two fell in love at first sight and lived together. She gave birth to seven children and was very happy.”

“…”

Hermione’s pretty eyebrows slightly wrinkled, revealing a little disdain: “I haven’t appeared for 20 years, I haven’t come back to separate from my ex-husband, I haven’t told my worried mother, this…”

“So I didn’t write it down…”

“Ding-ling-ling! Ding-ling-ling!”

Loren’s voice was interrupted by the sudden ring of the phone. Hermione glanced at the vibrating old-fashioned phone not far away. The receiver was lifted up by an invisible hand and fell into the hands of the person next to him:

“Hello? This is Loren Morgan…”

Hermione lowered her eyes and continued to read the second half of the paper: “The comparison between the apparition of human wizards and the teleportation magic of house elves. As a common teleportation travel method for wizards, it usually requires the use of a wand to cast spells. Only a very small number of more skilled wizards can get rid of the restrictions of the wand. In addition, the teleportation process will put a certain amount of pressure on the wizard’s body…”

“Harry, what’s the matter so late?”

Hermione’s eyes paused, and her ears slowly stood up.

"Well, you talk, I'm listening..."

"What happened next..."

"Huh? Ah!?"

Hermione: ...

This guy definitely did it on purpose.

Hermione rolled her eyes silently, put the paper in her hand aside, stood up and sat next to him, and put her ear close to him.

Loren lazily listened to Harry's story about encountering Dementors. When he heard that Mrs. Figg and Mundungus were arranged by Dumbledore to protect him at Privet Drive, he suddenly felt the scent of shower gel approaching, followed by a warm and soft cheek against the back of his hand holding the microphone, tender and smooth.

Harry's voice went into his right ear and went out from the left.

"Fortunately you cleared my trail in advance, otherwise we would be in trouble now! Mundungus looks unreliable. He looks like a dark wizard from Knockturn Alley, and he's even reselling stolen cauldrons. He's not really a criminal, is he? How could Dumbledore arrange for such a person?"

"Mrs. Figg doesn't want to reveal anything, just like Ron and the others..."

"You would never have thought that Aunt Petunia knew about Dementors, and she even communicated with Dumbledore through letters... They have always known about Voldemort, and now they know that Voldemort is back."

In the receiver, Harry's voice paused: "Uncle Vernon wanted to drive me away, but Aunt Petunia received a Howler letter, and heard the voice in the letter saying something incoherent, so she let me stay..."