No matter what the answer was, it was not a good thing. It meant that the Lord Voldemort had made a move on him!
Harry had no other choice but to stay with the Dursleys and pray that the Ministry of Magic would not fire him.
This feeling of powerlessness annoyed him. The only person who was more annoyed than him was Uncle Vernon.
Unsurprisingly, when Uncle Vernon finally figured out that the man who killed Harry's parents had returned and that the Dementors who had just attacked his precious son were after Harry, he immediately decided to kick Harry out of the house.
Uncle Vernon's reaction was within Harry's expectations, but what really surprised him was that they soon received another letter from an owl. It was a howling letter, and this letter was addressed to Aunt Petunia.
After delaying for a long time without opening it, the red envelope burst into flames. A terrifying voice came from the burning letter on the table, filling the entire kitchen and echoing in the limited space. There was only one sentence.
"Remember my last words, Petunia!"
Harry didn't understand what it meant. Remember what at the end?
And why was Aunt Petunia in contact with a wizard that he did not know about?
When Harry mentioned the Lord Voldemort, she also immediately understood the meaning of the name. She also knew about Azkaban and the Dementors.
For the first time in his life, Harry fully realized that Aunt Petunia was his mother's sister.
He could not say why he felt this so strongly at this moment. He only knew that he was not the only one in this house who vaguely realized what the return of the Lord Voldemort meant …
What also surprised Harry was Aunt Petunia's reaction. After hearing the words, she quickly returned to her usual stern and arrogant self and persuaded the somewhat hysterical Uncle Vernon to agree to let Harry stay.
She ordered Harry to go back to bed. Harry had been lying down since last night.
Three times a day, Aunt Petunia stuffed food into his room through the small trapdoor that Uncle Vernon had installed three years ago.
Every time Harry heard Aunt Petunia's footsteps approaching, he wanted to ask her about the howling letter.
But instead of asking her, it was better to ask the doorknob.
Except for delivering food, the Dursleys never went near his bedroom.
Harry also felt that there was no point in forcing himself to stay with them. There was no point in making a scene. It would probably only make him angry and make him break the law and use magic.
Harry wrote letters to Sirius, Elwyn, Ron, and Hermione. He wanted to know what was going on and when he could leave. He had sent Hedwig out, but until now, there had been no reply.
Sighing again, Harry fell back heavily on his bed, ready to sleep off the numbness.
This went on for three days. There were times when Harry was so restless that he could not settle down to do anything.
He just paced up and down in his bedroom, angry at them all for making him suffer here.
Sometimes he was completely listless, lying in bed or sitting in a chair for hours on end, staring blankly into space, terrified at the thought of being sent to the Ministry of Magic for trial.
What if their verdict was against him?
What if he was fired and his wand was broken in two?
What would he do? Where would he go?
He could not live with the Dursleys as he had before, because now he knew that there was another world, a world that was truly his. So could he move in with Sirius?
Move in with his godfather, Sirius had suggested more than once.
But he always had a lot to do during the summer holidays, accompanying Elwyn on adventures all over the world.
Harry wanted to go with them, but they did not take him.
This made Harry very unhappy with Elwyn and Sirius, even angry, but there was nothing he could do.
Elwyn had explained to him before that when his mother died, she had left him with a spell. As long as he stayed with the Dursleys for a while every year, the spell would continue to work, protecting him from the Lord Voldemort until he came of age.
This was the main reason why Harry could resist the urge to tie his suitcase to his broom and fly to Sirius.
At the same time, Harry was angry with Dumbledore.
Dumbledore would not tell him anything, and his attitude was clearly cold. In the last few days of the last semester, he had tried to talk to Dumbledore, but he had been refused. Dumbledore had clearly done a lot to prove that he was trustworthy. Even if he was not as strong as Elwyn, he was still much better than Ron, Hermione, and the others.
On the fourth night after Hedwig's departure, Harry was in a state of listlessness.
He lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, his tired mind almost blank.
Uncle Vernon walked into his bedroom.
Harry slowly turned to look at him. Uncle Vernon was wearing his best suit, looking very pleased with himself.
"We're going out, boy!" he said.
"I beg your pardon?"
"We, that is, your aunt, Dudley, and I are going out."
"All right," said Harry dryly, staring at the ceiling again.
"You're not going out of your room while we're away."
"All right."
"You're not going to touch the TV, the stereo, or anything we have."
"All right."
"And you're not going to eat anything in the fridge."
"No problem," said Harry listlessly. Uncle Vernon looked at him suspiciously.
"I'm going to lock your door."
"All right, you lock it."
Uncle Vernon glared at Harry, apparently suspicious of Harry's obedience.
Then he stomped out of the room, closing the door behind him.
Harry heard the key turn in the lock, and Uncle Vernon's footsteps thudding downstairs. A few minutes later he heard the door slam, the engine rumble, and the unmistakable sound of a car pulling out of the driveway.
Harry had no particular feeling about the Dursleys' departure. He was the only one left in the house.
It made little difference to him whether they were there or not. He couldn't even muster the energy to get out of bed and turn on the bedroom light.
It grew dark in the room. He lay there, listening to the sounds around him.
The empty house creaked and groaned, and water flowed from the pipes.
Harry lay in bed, in a state of numbness, his mind blank, his heart restless.
He forced himself to sleep, as he had been doing for the past few days.
Then he heard footsteps in the hallway outside. Someone was coming in.
The Dursleys couldn't have been back so soon, and he hadn't heard their car drive back.
Harry sat up and grabbed the wand from the bedside table. Thieves or Lord Voldemort's minions?!
The next second the lock clicked, and the bedroom door flew open. Harry jumped up.
You've already exceeded your reading limit for today. If you want to read more, please log in.
Login
Select text and click 'Report' to let us know about any bad translation.
