Magical Studies at Hogwarts...

Chapter 266 No. 4, Privet Road

Late at night, Harry sat by his bedroom window, staring blankly at the dim lights outside.

He had been in this position for a long time, and the arm supporting his head was getting a little numb, but he ignored it. His excitement made him disregard this minor discomfort. Besides, for someone who had already learned a lot of magic, this discomfort was nothing.

Behind him, several large suitcases were neatly arranged, and on top of them was a cage in which Hedwell was very quiet.

The rest of the room was a bit messy; owl feathers, apple cores, and candy wrappers were scattered on the floor, and several newspapers were mixed in with the coat on the bed, one of which had a particularly eye-catching headline:

Harry Potter: The Savior?

One of his photos was enlarged, and the figures of Dumbledore and Sirius could be faintly seen in the background.

This issue of the Daily Prophet is quite old, published shortly after the Battle of the Department of Mysteries. The front page content had appeared before and was largely the same, mainly about the return of the person whose name couldn't even be mentioned. The truly "new" content in this issue comes on the second page: the news of Scrimgeour becoming the new Minister for Magic.

Other than that, there's nothing new.

The other newspaper's front-page photo was different; it showed a huge square and a chaotic crowd. Dumbledore's figure was still in it, with an unfamiliar person standing next to him. But the article mentioned that it was the Minister of Magic of Italy.

The infamous and extremely dangerous Death Eaters storm the Vatican.

This episode is from a few days ago, about the horrifying things that his once trusted classmate did during this period.

Harry read it carefully but wasn't too concerned; he was just worried about Hermione's condition. He knew very well that Hermione must have read the article as well.

Harry simply didn't say many things, not because he was unaware, unlike Ron. So, even though Hermione acted normally after the battle with the Department of Mysteries, Harry knew that Hermione's inner world wasn't as calm as she appeared.

He had known for a long time that the person's departure had left an unhealable wound in Hermione's heart. And that wound was torn open again that night at the Ministry of Magic.

There was a thick stack of letters on the table in front of him, most of which were Hermione's replies to him during the summer vacation. The last letter had been sent two days ago, and its contents were no different from the previous ones.

Harry was still worried, but at this moment, something else occupied his mind: Dumbledore would be taking him to the Burrow today!

Dear Harry:

If it's convenient for you, I will pick you up at 4 Privet Road at 11 p.m. this Friday night to take you to the Burrow, where they have invited you to spend the rest of the summer holidays.

Also, I have something to do on my way to the humble abode, and I would be very happy to have your help.

We'll discuss the details when we meet.

Please entrust this owl to deliver your reply. See you on Friday.

Your faithful

Albus Dumbledore

Three days ago, the letter was delivered to Harry, and since then he has often taken it out to read it, having memorized its contents perfectly. From the moment he received the news, he began packing his luggage, but it wasn't until recently that he had almost finished.

After that, I just waited quietly by the window.

Night deepened, and the clock slowly struck eleven. Suddenly, the streetlights outside the window went out, plunging the entire neighborhood into darkness.

Harry quickly adjusted his glasses and pressed himself against the window to look out. He saw a tall figure in a long cloak walking along the garden path. Upon seeing this, he jumped up, stuffed the letters on the table and the newspapers on the bed into the outer compartment of his suitcase, grabbed his coat, grabbed Hedwell's cage with one hand, and pushed the suitcase out with the other.

As soon as I opened the door, I heard Uncle Vernon's voice coming from the living room downstairs: "What the hell! Who's knocking at the door so late?"

The lights downstairs came on, but Harry stopped at the bottom of the stairs. Just then, Dumbledore's voice came from downstairs, deep and resonant, yet it made Harry feel incredibly safe.

"Good evening. You must be Mr. Dursley. I'm sure Harry told you I was coming to pick him up, didn't he?"

Hearing this, Harry realized that he had been so excited about the news that he had completely forgotten to tell Uncle Vernon. He quickly put his suitcase down the stairs and hurried down the stairs.

The footsteps were hurried, attracting the attention of the two people in the living room. They both looked towards the stairs; Uncle Vernon's face was full of anger, while Dumbledore secretly winked.

"It seems Harry didn't tell you I was coming," Dumbledore said softly, in a very friendly manner. "However, let's assume you've already warmly invited me in. In these turbulent times, it would be unwise to linger at the door for too long."

Dumbledore walked in, closing the door behind him. He looked around the living room as if he were curious about everything.

"I didn't come in last time, and that was a long time ago." Dumbledore pushed up his glasses and waved to Harry on the stairs. "Good evening, Harry."

Vernon was furious; the veins in his neck bulged so high one feared they might explode at any moment, splattering blood everywhere. His face twitched slightly, and the sound of his teeth grinding could be heard.

Before he could say anything, the kitchen door opened, and Aunt Petunia and Dudley appeared in the doorway. Petunia was still wearing an apron and gloves, while Dudley held a small piece of cake, crumbs still clinging to his lips. They both stared at Dumbledore in disbelief, as if they were frozen in shock.

"Albus Dumbledore," Dumbledore said with a smile, "we correspond."

"This must be your son, Dali."

He waited a moment, seemingly waiting for the Dursleys to have something to say, and when he saw their silence, he couldn't help but smile.

"Can we assume that you have already invited me into your living room?"

Dumbledore entered the living room, while Uncle Vernon and the others remained standing there, dumbfounded. Harry, however, couldn't wait any longer. He leaped down the stairs in a few bounds and anxiously asked, "Shall we go? Now?"

"Come, of course, but there are a few things we need to discuss first," Dumbledore said. "For some well-known reasons, we're afraid we'll have to bother your aunt and uncle for a while."

"What?"

Uncle Vernon stormed in, demanding an explanation. Petunia and Dudley quickly followed behind, bypassing Dumbledore. Dudley's body was even trembling.

"You want to discuss something in my house?"

"That's right, that's how it is." Dumbledore nodded, then suddenly drew his wand and waved it. The sofa slammed into the three of them, knocking them off balance and causing them to stumble and fall onto it. Then, with another wave, the sofa returned to its original position.

"That way, we'll all be more comfortable."

Dumbledore put away his wand, smiled, and casually sat down on the sofa opposite them, beckoning Harry over.

At that moment, Harry saw that Dumbledore's hand was charred black, as if it had been burned.

"Professor, this..."

Dumbledore didn't seem to care. "Sit down, we have a lot to discuss."

"We'll talk about it later, Harry."

(End of this chapter)