Snape saw Harry jump off Scott's motorcycle from the window,
The two of them stood on the lawn and talked and laughed for a while. Scott even patted Harry's back,
Then he didn't come in. He turned around and left. Harry still stood there in silence for a while, with a slight smile on his face,
But his standing posture was much more dignified. Snape glanced in the direction of his gaze,
He found that it was just an empty road,
Connected to the somewhat gray sky.
As if sensing Snape's observation, Harry suddenly turned his head,
And smiled at the window where Snape was. Three seconds later, the man heard Lupin's barking at the entrance,
But three minutes later,
Harry walked in front of Snape,
He approached the Potions Professor's arm,
He looked at the notes in his hand.
Snape smelled the strong smell of medicine on Harry's body,
He saw the black dog hair on his sleeve, and the latter was still saying leisurely, "Improved compound decoction? Cool ~ But seriously, Professor,
You can communicate more with Dr. Banner or Hank, or Dr. Zhao? Forget about Mr. Stark,
I think you'll quarrel... "
Snape suddenly reached out and pinched Harry's chin,
Then he saw the child's eyes widen,
He couldn't help but chuckle in his heart, but his hand still rubbed gently, half-forcing Harry to face him.
He still remembered how Harry looked when he was in first grade. He looked like James Potter, and he looked like James Potter everywhere. But later, there was a scar on his forehead, and his eyes turned green, and he looked a little more like Lily. Later, the boy's cunning and eccentricity seeped out of his docile skin, and it was difficult to treat him as a simple Gryffindor. The Sorting Hat was obviously wise, this child did not belong to any academy.
His face was similar to James', but the outline of his face was more delicate. His eyes were exactly the same as Lily's, but the corners of his eyes were secretly raised. His chin, which was thin due to illness, was somewhat similar to his godfather, who had disappeared without a trace. As for the corner of his mouth, it was quite unique. Taking advantage of his youth, except for the lightning scar on his forehead, his whole face was white and clean, without even a single freckle or wrinkle. Snape also noticed that the shape of his cheekbones was soft, which was a characteristic of a young face. It seemed that the thirty-year-old Harry Potter would be more immature than his peers.
"Professor …" Harry said in a trembling voice, "You're probably not done yet. My neck can't take it anymore …"
He was originally half-lying on Snape's wheelchair, so he had to twist his neck to face Snape. Soon, his muscles began to ache.
Snape let go of his hand and let Harry rub the back of his neck. Then, he said lightly, "Go wash up. What's with the smell?"
Even if Snape did not say anything, Harry had already planned to wash up. The smell of the hospital always had an ominous meaning. So, he happily soaked in the bath for half an hour until his fingertips were wrinkled. He then got up and changed into his home raccoon pajamas. He ate a simple sandwich for lunch, drank two large glasses of water, and burped. Then, he lazily remembered that he still had homework to do.
"Holy barracuda above!
Holy barracuda! " Lupin, who was napping next to Harry, was instantly pushed away. He watched in confusion as Harry hurried into the study and came out with a stack of papers. He sat cross-legged between the sofa and the coffee table. Then, he suddenly stood up, rushed into the study, took a pen, and sat down again. He bit the end of the pen in a daze.
A six-thousand-word homework … Harry doubted that Charles could grade hundreds of homework. He counted the lines of each paper, tore off twelve pieces, and put them in front of him. He told himself that he had finished the homework by scribbling all the papers. But … what should he scribble? No matter which life it was, Harry was most comfortable with writing experimental reports and theses. What he learned in Kamia's class was not enough to support a six-thousand-word homework.
After scribbling and scribbling a few titles, Harry regretted that he did not borrow Hermione's homework on Friday for "reference." He regretted even more that he went out to eat barbecue and infusion. Now, he only had one afternoon and one night left to fight … Wait a minute? Fight to the death?
No, no, it's not the time to fight to the death yet …
Lupin saw that after Harry crushed several pieces of paper, he suddenly turned from worry to joy. He picked up another piece of paper and began to write. He curiously leaned over to see what Harry was going to write. He looked up and saw a line of proper title — X-Men: First Love.
Lupin: … Woof?
Harry was also stunned for a moment. Then, he reluctantly crossed out this line and took another piece of paper to rewrite — X-Men: The First Battle.
"Many years later, Magneto remembered Poland in 1944. He still remembered the iron-gray rainstorm that drenched every face with dim colors. It also drenched his impending fate …"
After he really started writing, Harry found that it was not as difficult as he thought. It was even easier than writing a report. Although his writing style was quite ordinary, the stories stored in his memory were so vivid. He not only remembered the story of the X-Men, the story of the Avengers, the story of Batman, the story of Superman … He even remembered the story of the distant Adams family. Because he was so familiar with them, these stories became natural memories stored in his considerable memory. It wasn't until he really started writing, took them out, and sorted them out that he marveled at their richness.
Harry didn't even know which characters he sent out in the first battle of the X-Men. He was shocked as he wrote: The library, the Babel Library! These were not his own memories, but the inventory of the library. What he did was just take down the books and retell them on paper. Perhaps this was what Michelangelo said: What he did was not to shape the statues, but to peel the statues out of each stone.
Since coming to this Otherworld, Harry had not been able to enter the "library" again. He didn't know how much it had collapsed.
In any case, Harry leaned over the coffee table and wrote for six or seven hours. Finally, he finished the long-delayed homework. During this time, he only got up to have a simple dinner. When the last punctuation fell, Harry only felt that his arms were broken, his legs were numb, his eyes were blurry, and his brain was not his own. Counting the papers, there were fourteen full sheets, which had exceeded his initial expectations. Harry tied them together with mixed feelings, put them in his schoolbag, and then spread out on the carpet.
Snape, who came out to drink water, passed by the living room and saw Harry lying on the ground. He picked up the feather duster beside him and poked the boy's back, making a vague moan. Looking at his half-closed eyes, he seemed to be drowsy.
"Lupin, get Potter up and let him sleep on the bed." The living room was not cold, but the child's bones could be used as a keyboard if he slept like this for four hours.
Lupin used his head to nudge Harry awake. The boy sat up and rubbed his eyes. After a while, he got up and walked into the bathroom. After washing his face and brushing his teeth with half-closed eyes, he closed his eyes again and walked into the bedroom. He fell asleep immediately. Lupin was frightened. It was not until Harry rolled under the quilt that he carefully closed the door with his paw.
He slept like a log, not knowing what time it was. When Harry opened his eyes again, the sky outside the window was already dark. Snape was lying on the other side of the window. Only his pounding heart reminded him that this was not a natural awakening.
Harry spent more than ten seconds trying to determine whether the ringtone that woke him up was a dream or reality. Snape said impatiently, "Potter, go and turn it off, unplug the cable, or pull the switch off."
So it was a real ringtone. Harry shook his head, got up, and walked to the living room. He did not take any of Snape's suggestions. Instead, he picked up the phone. "Hello?"
He thought it would be Hermione, but the voice on the other end was Neville. The little fatty seemed to be trembling as he spoke. "Is this Harry?"
"It's me, not the professor." Harry chuckled and was a little surprised. "Why are you calling so late?"
Neville breathed a sigh of relief. Then, his voice suddenly became sharp. "Harry! Come here! Warren and Côte are in trouble!!! "
Harry was stunned. At first, he did not understand what could have happened to Warren and Côte. Then, he did not understand why Neville would call him. But then, Neville explained the situation clearly. It turned out that when Hank assigned the task, he assigned Côte and Neville to the same team based on their addresses. But of course, the closest person to Côte was Warren. And the angel's character did not change. He called his friends to go to a bar and ended up getting into a fight. Neville's first choice was to report it to Hank or Percy. However, Percy was still on his way back to Green Town. Hank's phone could not be reached. After thinking about it, the little fatty felt that only Harry could help him, so he called him.
Harry did not think he could be of any help in the gang fight, nor could he bail Warren out of the police station. But from the other end of the phone, Neville seemed to be on the verge of tears. He could only comfort him. "Don't worry. None of us have superpowers. A gang fight won't kill anyone …"
"This won't do. Harry, you should come over. I think someone might die …"
But now that I'm rushing over, I'm sure I'll beat their brains out by now. Harry was helpless. Suddenly, he heard Neville mention an address that sounded familiar. He quickly asked, "Wait a minute, Neville. Which bar are they fighting at?"
"Ah … It's the Terminator Bar on East Street 4!"
F * ck! So it's a bar owned by Death Knell! Harry was suddenly wide awake. He comforted Neville and quickly went back to his room to change.
Snape, who was half lying on the bed, frowned and asked, "What happened?"
"Angel and Night Walker are fighting in front of Death Knell's house."
Snape was puzzled. "Then what are you going to do?" He scanned Harry's small body from head to toe and said, "Do you think that you can influence the outcome of the battle? Or do you have the ability to bail them out of the police station? "
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