Harry Potter's Bastard

"That wicked, hypocritical, perverted ugly bastard!" Hermione said angrily half an hour later, as they walked back to the castle along the path they had come, "do you see what she's trying to do? It's her trick of discriminating against half-human, half-beast again—she wants to call Hagrid a troll of low intelligence, just because his mother is a giant—"

"Hermione, I know you're angry right now, but I think we'd better not mess with that toad in Umbridge. Ron touched the back of his hand, "We've tried, but as you know, we can't do anything with her." "

"We can't, but someone can. Hermione squinted her eyes and said, "Wait, I'll give that toad a good look." "

"Hermione, can I ask. Harry said cautiously, "What are you going to do?"

"Well, you'll know next Hogsmeade Day. "

Although Hagrid's incident made the three of them not very happy, there was good news today.

Because of the rain, recess can be left indoors. They found a seat in a noisy classroom on the second floor, and Peeves floated dreamily up by the chandelier, occasionally blowing a drop of ink on someone's head. No sooner had they sat down than Angelina squeezed through the pile of chatting students.

"I've got the go-ahead!" she said, "Reassembling the Quidditch team!"

"Great!" Ron and Harry looked at each other, and the news was indeed good news.

"Yes," said Angelina, with a beaming face, "I went to Professor McGonagall, and I think she might have begged Dumbledore—anyway, Umbridge had to give in." So I'm asking you to come to the stadium at seven o'clock tonight, okay, we've got to make up the time. Do you realize that the first race is only three weeks away?"

She squeezed past them, barely dodging Peeves' blowing of ink, which landed on a nearby first-year freshman.

Harry suddenly felt that he was running out of time, he couldn't go to the small classroom tonight because he had to go to training, Hermione said that the students who wanted to listen to his class had also been organized, and it would officially start tomorrow, and he still had so much homework to write......

Looking at the pouring rain outside the window, Harry's face became more and more sad. It's true that he likes Quidditch, but that doesn't mean he likes to fly in any weather. Flying in the rain would have brought back some bad memories for Harry, but the training might not have been too bad, since he wouldn't encounter any more Dementors this time.

Angelina had them practice for nearly an hour before giving up. She brought the whining players back to the locker room, insisting that the training session was not a waste, even though there was little confidence in her tone. As a Seeker, Harry actually doesn't need to cooperate with other team members, although the rain is very heavy and the wind is very strong, but now Harry will not be affected by these things, he can see that many team members' minds are not on training at all, and even Harry finds that his mind is not on training, obviously he loves this sport so much.

In the end, Harry had to blame it all on the bad weather, which was very much in line with the usual way of the countrymen, who would curse the weather whenever something happened.

But Harry soon had no mind to think about anything else - his scar ached sharply without warning, causing a startled Harry to scream in the locker room.

"Ahh

He covered his face with a towel and closed his eyes in pain. The scar on his forehead burned again, not in months.

"What's wrong?" several voices asked at once.

Harry took the towel away, and the dressing room was a blur because he didn't have glasses, but he could feel everyone's faces facing him. "It's nothing," he muttered, "I- accidentally touched my eye, and it's fine." "

"What's going on?" Ron asked as soon as Arya disappeared from the doorway, "Is it your scar?"

Ron had experience with this kind of thing, and he had encountered it several times.

Harry nodded.

"But......" Ron walked to the window in disbelief and looked into the rain, "he—he can't be any near us now, can he?"

"Yes," Harry whispered, sitting down on a stool and rubbing his forehead, "he may be inside and out. I'm hurting because ...... He was angry. "

Harry hadn't even wanted to say that, it sounded like a stranger to him - but he immediately realized it was true. He didn't know where that consciousness came from, but he did know that Voldemort—wherever he was or what he was doing, the demon was throwing a tantrum.

"Do you see him?" Ron said in fear, "you...... Did you see a vision?"

Harry sat quietly, staring at his feet, letting his thoughts and memories relax in the aftermath...... Chaotic images, noisy voices, "He wants to do something, but he can't do it fast enough." "

He was once again amazed to hear himself say this.

"But how do you know?" asked Ron.

Harry shook his head, his hand pressed tightly to his eyes, and countless stars went in and out of his eyes. He felt Ron sit down next to him, knowing that Ron was staring at him.

There was a moment of silence, and the wind and rain whipped at the houses.

"You have to tell someone. Ron said.

"I told Sirius last time. "

"Okay, tell him this time!"

"No," Harry said heavily, "Umbridge is keeping an eye on the owl and the fire, have you forgotten?"

"Then Dumbledore—"

"I told you, he got it. Harry stood up, took his cloak off the hook and draped it over his body, "There's no point in telling him again." "

Harry thought about the last conversation with Dumbledore, and he was going to ask Snape to teach him Occlumency, and Harry was worried that if Dumbledore knew about his scars, he would immediately let Snape start teaching himself—for the ...... Whoever it was, Harry felt that his time was tight enough that he didn't need Snape to intervene again.

It's said that bad weather can make people feel bad, and Harry wasn't the only one who was in a bad mood today. At this time, Umbridge was also gloomy in her colorful office, and she had just confirmed a piece of news- The two people she had planted in Hogsmeade had been unknowingly dealt with, not killed, but almost, the two of them had been poisoned and were now lying in St. Mungo's treatment, and Umbridge had no way of intercepting Hogwarts letters until a replacement was found, and considering the outsider who had recently contacted someone inside Hogwarts through the fireplace, Umbridge felt that she needed to hurry up - she was going to fire a professor in the near future.