Vol 2 Chapter 1218:

"Oh, yes," Skeeter said, nodding enthusiastically. "I spent a whole chapter on the relationship between Dumbledore and Potter. The kind that is called unhealthy, even a little evil. Relationship. I think if I say one more sentence, your readers will have to buy my book if they want to understand the whole story. But the sentence I just said undoubtedly meant that Dumbledore had caused an abnormality to Potter Interest. Is that his biggest interest in the boy... Yes, you will learn about it in my book. There is no doubt that Harry has a troublesome adolescence."
(As we all know, Dumbledore may have some improper relationship with his friend Grindelwald, and now it is Harry...)
Of course, I asked her if she was still in contact with Harry Potter, and her interview with him last year made her famous: a breakthrough interview about Potter's certainty that the mysterious man is back.
"Oh, yes. We are more connected," Skeeter said. "Poor Potter has few real friends. We met on the day when he was facing the most critical challenge in his life...that was the Triwizard Conquest. Sai. I am probably the only one who really knows Harry Potter."
I subtly led the conversation to the many rumors surrounding Dumbledore's last moments. Does Skeeter believe that Potter was there when Dumbledore died?
"Oh, I don’t want to say too much, it’s all in my book. But many witnesses at Hogwarts Castle have seen Potter fall in Dumbledore...or jumped and pushed off. Then he ran out of the scene. Potter later also accused Severus Snape, a notorious man who was jealous of him. Is this really what they show? It needs Everyone decides... once they have read my book."
After finishing all the tempting records, I left. No one would doubt that Skeeter is an excellent salesman. At that time, many of Dumbledore's admirers will tremble at the deeds exposed in their heroes.
Harry endured his anger and read the whole article, but still stared at the newspaper blankly. The kind of intense disgust and anger ignited from him, as if he was about to vomit. He crumpled the newspaper into a ball and threw it out, slammed it into the corner of the wall, and accompanied the garbage that was already full of trash cans.
Harry started striding back and forth blindly in the room, pulling open the empty drawers, picking up the books and putting them back into the stack of books... Almost not knowing what he was doing, those in Rita's articles were made up. The sentence echoed in his mind: It took a whole chapter to talk about the relationship between Dumbledore and Potter... an unhealthy, even a bit evil relationship... He dabbled in black magic when he was young... I got one The source of information that most reporters will use their magic wand to exchange...
"Lie!" Harry roared, looking through the window, he saw the neighbor pause for a while, then restarted the lawnmower, looking up nervously.
Harry sat heavily on the bed. The broken mirror was shaking not far from him. He picked it up and played it over and over in his hand, thinking of Dumbledore and the lies that Rita slandered him... a bright blue light flashed. Then, Harry was stunned, and his fingers slid over the jagged edges again.
He saw...he must do something.
He looked behind him. The wall was the sickly pink color chosen by Aunt Petunia: there was nothing blue to reflect in the mirror. He stared at the mirror fragment again, but this time he saw nothing but his own shiny green eyes looking at him.
It was just an illusion and there was no other explanation; he saw it because he had been thinking about his late principal. If there is anything for sure, it is that Albus Dumbledore's blue eyes full of wisdom will never look at him deeply again.
For this, Harry was very clear.
Dumbledore was forever integrated with Hogwarts. He lay peacefully on the island of the Black Lake, guarded by a mermaid to sleep.
Whenever he thought of this, Harry couldn't help but cherish the memory of those days when Dumbledore was still alive.
The crash of the front door reached upstairs, and a voice roared: "Hey! Kid!"
However, Harry, who had been screamed for 16 years, did not immediately respond at this moment. His Uncle Dursley always did this. Since he knew he could not perform magic outside the school, his behavior began again. Be presumptuous gradually.
However, he did not dare to push Harry too much.
To persecute a wizard, something might happen.
Harry was still looking at the long and narrow broken lens. For a moment, he thought he saw Dumbledore's eyes, but in a daze, Harry didn't think so much, like Dumbledore, and like...
It wasn't until Uncle Vernon yelled "Boy!" that Harry slowly got up and got out of bed and walked to the bedroom door, halfway through putting the broken lens into the travel bag he was about to take.
"Don't dawdle!" Vernon Dursley shouted at Harry on the stairs. "Come down, I have something to say."
Harry put his indifferent hands in his pockets and walked slowly down the stairs. He looked around in the living room and found the Dursley family of three. They dressed as if they were about to go out: Uncle Vernon was wearing an old torn jacket, and Dudley... Harry's big, blond, muscular cousin was wearing a leather jacket.
"What's the matter?" Harry asked.
"Sit down!" Uncle Vernon said.
Harry raised his eyebrows. "Please!" Uncle Vernon added, wincing slightly, as if the word was difficult to utter.
Harry sat down, feeling he already knew what was going to happen next. His uncle began to pace back and forth, and Aunt Petunia and Dudley looked at him expectantly.
Finally, Uncle Vernon wrinkled his big purple face, stopped in front of Harry, and said, "I changed my mind."
"It's surprising," Harry said sarcastically.
"You used that tone..." Aunt Petunia said in that sharp voice, but Uncle Vernon waved her to stop her.
"It's all empty talk," said Uncle Vernon, staring at Harry with his little pig eyes. "I don't intend to believe a word. We just stay here, not going anywhere."
Harry looked at his uncle, feeling angry and funny. For the past four weeks, Uncle Vernon changed his mind every 24 hours, putting the luggage in the car, taking it out, and putting it in again, repeating every change of mind.
Harry’s favorite time was that Uncle Vernon didn’t know that Dudley had put dumbbells in the box the last time he was packing, so he lifted the box and prepared to put it in the trunk of the car. He screamed and cursed in pain He fell somersault.
"It's all because of you," Uncle Vernon said, and started pacing around in the living room again. "We... Petunia, Dudley, and I... are in danger because of those... those... …"
"'Our kind of people', isn't it?" Harry said.
"I don't believe it anyway," Uncle Vernon repeated, stopping in front of Harry again. "I thought about it most of the night last night, and I was sure it was a conspiracy, just to get the house."
"House?" Harry repeated, as if he had heard some funny joke. "What house?"
"This is the house!" Uncle Vernon screamed, the blue veins on his forehead throbbing, his face flushed, "Our house! Now the house price is soaring! You want to spread us all, and then use some tricks. Trick, the house becomes yours while we are still in the dark, and then..."
"What happened then?" Harry held back his anger.
"Then I can drive us out, and then I can inherit our..."
"Are you crazy?" Harry asked, "In order to get this house? Did you grow your head? Are you really as stupid as you look? Like a fat pig, filled with sweetness. ring?"
"How dare you...!" Aunt Petunia screamed, but Vernon stopped her again, his expression looked fearless.
"I think, I'm afraid you forgot," Harry said. "My parents have left me an entire vault, and my godfather has reserved a house for me. Why would I want you? Is it For good memories here?"
There was a moment of silence in the room. Harry felt that he had suppressed his uncle in this debate.
"You claim," said Uncle Vernon, and started pacing again, "what the is coming here?"
"Voldemort" Harry said impatiently, "We have discussed it a hundred times. It is not my claim, but the fact. Last year Dumbledore told you, Kingsley and Mr. Weasley also told you , He came here, in his eyes, you are the same as the stains on the shoes, you can wipe it off with your hands, but I think he might just rub it on the floor here and here."
Uncle Vernon shrugged his shoulders angrily. Harry guessed that his uncle must be trying to get rid of the memory of those uninvited guests. In the days when Harry had just had a summer vacation, two adult wizards-Kingsley Shaker The visit with Arthur Weasley was a very unpleasant accident for the Dursley family.
Harry had to admit that, anyway, Mr. Weasley had destroyed half of the Dursley's living room, and his visit again would never make Uncle Vernon happy.
"Kingsley and Mr. Weasley have explained very clearly," Harry pointed out coldly, "Once I turn seventeen, the magic that protects me will no longer work, which means you will be exposed just like me. Come out. The Order of the Phoenix is ​​sure that Voldemort will use you as targets, he will torture you to try to find me, or he thinks that as long as he takes you hostages, I will save you."
Uncle Vernon and Harry met, and Harry was sure they were thinking the same thing at that moment.
Uncle Vernon continued to pace, Harry then patiently said, "You must hide, and the Phoenix Society will help you and give you the best protection."
Uncle Vernon didn't say a word, just walking around. The sun had already set under the fence of Privet Road, and the lawn mower of the neighbor next door stopped again.
"Don't you have a Ministry of Magic?" Uncle Vernon said suddenly.
"Yes" Harry was a little surprised and Uncle Vernon's knowledge of the magical world.
"So, why don't they come to protect us? In my opinion, as innocent victims, we have no sins other than harboring a concerned guy. We have the right to be protected by the government!"
Harry couldn't help it, he laughed loudly. That is really a typical Uncle Vernon. Even if he despised and jealous of the world, he still hoped in a certain organization, just as Uncle Vernon believed that some disputes could be resolved by the police.
"Mr. Weasley and Kingsley have already told you," Harry repeated. "We think the Ministry of Magic has been corrupted by their people."
Uncle Vernon strode back to the fireplace and took a breath so hard that his beard rippled, and he still wrinkled the purple face.
"Well," he said, stopping in front of Harry again, "Well, just for this argument, we accept their protection, but I still don’t understand why we can’t let the Kingsley kid protect us. ."
Harry struggled to control the urge to roll his eyes, but it was very difficult, and this issue had also been discussed several times.
"I told you," he gritted his teeth, "Kingsley wants to protect Ma... I mean, your Prime Minister."
"Obviously, he is the best!" Uncle Vernon said, pointing to the blank TV screen. The Dursleys have seen in the news that Kingsley accompanied the Muggle Prime Minister to visit the hospital.
Kingsley mastered the knack of dressing up like a Muggle, combined with his reassuringly slow and low voice, all this made the Dursleys look at Kingsley differently, even though they had never seen Kings. The look of Lai wearing earrings.
"He already has a task," Harry said, "but Hestia Jones and Dedalo Dego are more suitable for this job."
"If we have read their resumes..." Uncle Vernon had just started, and Harry had lost his patience. He walked to the front of his uncle, stared at the TV alone and said: "Those seeming accidents are not accidents... All the crashes, explosions, train derailments, and everything that has happened since the last time we watched the news. The disappearances and deaths of people were manipulated behind the scenes...Voldemort. I told you time and time again, he Killing without blinking. Even the fog... it's all caused by dementors~EbookFREE.me~If you don't remember what they are, ask your son!"
Dali suddenly covered his mouth with his hands. Under the gaze of his parents and Harry, he slowly lowered his hands and asked, "They have...more?"
"More?" Harry smiled. "Just more than the two who attacked us, do you want to ask this? Of course! There are hundreds, maybe thousands, living on fear and despair..."
"Okay, okay, don't be scary," Uncle Vernon murmured, "You have made it clear."
"I hope so," said Harry, "because once I turn seventeen, all those things... Death Eaters, dementors, and maybe the corpses, the corpses controlled by the dark wizard, those things Both may find you and attack you. If you remember the last time you tried to get rid of the wizard, I think you will agree to accept help."
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