Harry found himself falling.
Just as he felt that the earth was rotating and following the sun, he found that he was falling down in the vast universe.
I am forgetting …
I am forgetting …
Harry Potter was dying.
He couldn't tell if he had lost his flesh and blood as a living person.
Or if he had lost his senses as a living person.
He was blind, deaf, and numb. But at the same time, his other senses extended endlessly like a neural network.
It led deeper and farther, to the sweet dreamlike realm of oblivion. He had lost his sense of pain. What came back from the sensitive network was not the pain of adaptation, but the despair of something that would eventually decay and disintegrate.
So he had to keep falling …
Keep falling …
Until his flesh disintegrated in space and time, his skin cracked and peeled off, his eyeballs fell out of their sockets, and all his nerves were burned and broken …
Then he landed on a wasteland.
He lay there for a long time, until the weeds around him were almost above his head. Then he moved his fingers.
He felt that he could still move, so he sat up.
He found himself sitting on a platform.
A platform that stood in the wasteland.
Harry stood up.
He looked at the world with new eyes.
Everything in his eyes — the reddish-brown earth, the shiny weeds, the dark dead branches, and the shiny platform.
They all seemed to contain some kind of stunning beauty.
The sign next to the platform said the name of the station: Freshwater Colored Fish Station. The silver words flowed with colors under the sunlight.
This was not the world after death.
Harry took a deep breath of the air of the wasteland. He did not continue to stand there waiting for the bus.
Instead, he turned around and walked toward the vast expanse of wasteland behind him.
The edges of the weeds were as sharp as blades.
There were cockles that cut through his socks. The strong wind that rushed through the wasteland bent the grass from time to time.
Amidst the subtle changes in the waves, many similar human faces were pieced together.
And the voice in the wind.
Forgetting is like the horror of no love, like the darkness of blind eyes.
The rose of time cries out in the conspiracy.
Except for death, there is no one to tell.
…
These low voices followed him like a shadow.
Just like the voices of the faces that followed Harry's footsteps, his new senses could even distinguish between the layers of voices. There were fragments of conversations and broken names. Then he knew that there were thousands of stories floating in the wind and growing in the wilderness.
This was Ginevra's world.
The reader's world.
He remembered, red-haired Weisles, dear Ginevra, the Rose of Time.
He died in a world where existence and nothingness argued endlessly, and then woke up in the truth of time.
Too many voices were humming together, forming a force that crushed the wind. Harry was forced forward by this force. He leaned his ear to listen to the names in the wind. 'Is that you? Are you guys here?
Hermione … Ron … Luna … Mother?! '
Like a bubble bursting, the vibrating nerve broke into a flash of white light. Harry could no longer hold on and fell into a cocklebur bush. The new skin that was cut was sensitive to the pain. He groaned and then realized where he was in pain.
In front of the wilderness formed by the cocklebur and purple grass, a dark tower stood tall.
It was the end of the world.
Harry didn't know where Ginevra was now, but she would come here one day. She would come to the bottom of the dark tower. She might go in and eventually leave.
(As long as time still exists, we can dissolve all meaning … Our search for the meaning of life has come to an end, but we still run into a wall in front of time …)
So Harry wanted to pass the key to Ginevra.
He pushed aside the lush cocklebur bush with his hand and found the only rose in the annoying weeds.
The rose opened its petals the moment Harry approached it. It bloomed like a warm miracle. With a beautiful howl, the crimson stamen seemed to wrap around the burning sun.
"Ginny … Help me … Help me send a message to the world …"
— —
The evening of December 25, 1993, Manchester.
Peggy was surprised to find that her two eccentric sons suddenly had a house full of friends. Although everyone seemed uneasy, it was rare that this group of people looked well-behaved. In other words, they didn't look like the same kind of people as Liam and Noel. Paul gritted his teeth with a piece of gingerbread in his hand. He felt like he was sitting on pins and needles as he watched Peggy enthusiastically ask the strangers about her sons. Peggy became even more enthusiastic when she noticed that there were a few good-looking young ladies in the group. She had three sons, after all, so she had to worry about them a lot.
Paul wasn't the only one who was restless. Noel was listening to the gossip. Although his eyes fell on the boring TV program, his heart was full of anxiety and anger. He was anxious because of the strange unconscious girl on the second floor and the ominous prophecy of this group of strangers. He was angry because the brainless Liam was still happily listening to these people flatter his mother. The best way to flatter a mother was to praise her son.
So Christmas Eve slowly approached in a seemingly peaceful atmosphere. Even Peggy gradually realized that the atmosphere was stiff. She stopped talking and began to drink tea. Liam sat next to her and handed her a slice of apple. Peggy looked at her youngest son, who was already taller than her, and sincerely hoped that he could fly as high as he wanted.
Liam smiled at his mother and secretly glared at the potato who ruined the atmosphere.
Noel coughed.
Rolf, who was closest to him, looked around and picked up a pear from the fruit plate. "Moisten your throat?"
Noel took the pear and looked at it without saying a word.
Peggy smiled as she looked at the group of young people chatting in twos and threes. Seeing that it was getting late, she asked, "Are you all staying here tonight? Do you want me to go and tidy up the two beds in the basement? "
"No need." "Don't bother."
Both sides spoke at the same time.
Then Dick spoke as a representative. "We're just here to talk to Noel about the new song, and also to see Auntie."
It would be more believable if they had brought gifts with them. Unfortunately, their backpacks were either equipment or weapons. Only Ron's bag was stuffed with some food, and it was two packs of hardtack …
Peggy was happy to see her bad-tempered second son making friends. She smiled and said, "I heard from Paul that his band is going to write a few new songs and make an album. You're busy with that, right?"
Everyone murmured in agreement.
Paul received the signal and smiled at Noel. He asked, "I've heard your previous songs. To be honest, there are probably only one or two songs that are qualified to be included in your first super cool album. So, you're starting to write new songs now?"
Noel was indeed preparing a new song, the one that he had been urging Liam to practice recently. However, it was only the chorus for the time being.
Still, he nodded and said, "That's right."
Thus, the topic could be smoothly changed. Paul breathed a sigh of relief and asked with a smile, "Have you thought of a title for the new song? If you want me to say, 'Long live the Mountain.
Although it's easy to remember, it's always a little violent … '"
"Not yet …"
"Hogwarts!"
Noel had just opened his mouth when he was interrupted by a new voice.
But more surprised than Noel was Hermione and the others who had been watching the staircase for five minutes. The twins rushed over to support their little sister. "Ginny!"
Ginny woke up from an unbelievably long dream. But like most dreams, it was fading quickly like the tide, leaving only wet white sand … No. Ginny's sweaty red hair stuck to her forehead. She still remembered that she had received a key and had to give it to the right person.
"It's the Hogwarts … That song …"
Hermione stepped forward to hold Ginny's cold hand and asked hurriedly, "What's wrong with the Hogwarts?"
The last rose petal faded. Ginny looked at Hermione as if she had just recognized her. She smiled intimately and said softly, "… A song …"
"Ginny!" The boys from the Weisles family gathered around Ginny who had fainted again. But just as Ron reached out his hand, he found that his hand had shrunk. He clenched his fist and it was still the same — the hand of the fourteen-year-old Ron Weisles.
He turned around in shock — everyone had returned to their original appearance, including Drac's shiny hair.
Dick watched as the second hand on the clock ticked past zero. Christmas of 1993 was over, and Halloween had yet to arrive.
The members of the Gallagher Family were caught off guard by what was happening one after another. At the same time, they heard a terrifying commotion on the street. Hermione and the others were the first to react. They rushed out of the door and looked up at the sky.
An eyeball-like black hole was hanging high in the night sky.
Some drunkards were pointing at it and cursing. Some believers were kneeling on the ground and praying.
Liam came out behind his brother. He held his brother's shoulder and looked at the strange night sky in surprise. There was even a hint of laughter in his voice. "Do you believe it now?"
Noel swallowed a habitual curse and asked his brother, "Don't you remember Hogwarts?"
"What's that?"
"I just remembered it." Noel recalled bits and pieces of his distant memory. "At that time, Paul and I were just starting school. You were always behind us with your nose running. Mom had to work three jobs every day. That man …" It was better not to mention the man who should be called father. "Later, mom took us and moved away from him. Our first house, the red brick house, do you remember? "From then on, Noel and Liam were forced to live in the same house.
Liam nodded, but he still did not understand what "Hogwarts" were.
"It's lilies." It was the lilies that grew in the open space where mom dried clothes every day.
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