Compared to the gender of the professor and the charismatic fortune teller.

Or the content of the letter attracted Harry more.

Unlike Trelawney's half-vague prophecy, this unknown old lover of Dumbledore was written with such certainty that Harry was hesitant to believe it. It was quite different from anything he had ever seen.

He folded the letter and put it in his pocket.

A faint magical power slowly emerged from the letter.

Like completing some ritual.

The aura wrapped around his wrist and traveled with the watch, without giving Harry any sense of danger.

This person...

His magic level was very high, far better than that of Snape, Professor Flitwick and others. It was a pity that the magical fluctuation was fleeting, and he was unable to study it carefully, so he was unable to estimate how he compared with Professor Dumbledore.

But this also made Harry extremely unhappy.

The contents of the letter sounded nice and would not cause any harm to him, but silently, it cast a spell that he could not even detect.

Few wizards can hide from their own perception.

Judging from the aura of this spell, it seems to be related to confidentiality.

It was only then that Hermione suddenly noticed Harry. She frowned and sat down next to Harry: "I feel a little uncomfortable. I suddenly ignored you just now."

Ron was grinning foolishly as he, his father and two brothers fiddled with the motorcycle with a lion paint job in the living room.

This seems to appeal to the wizards' aesthetic tastes.

They couldn't get enough of this paint job.

Lupin was communicating with Mrs. Weasley about food magic. Harry's cooking skills were pretty good, but he couldn't always let his nephews and nieces cook for the two adults. Sirius could be heartless, but he really felt bad about it.

No one noticed what happened except Hermione.

"I received a gift." Harry spoke carefully, one sentence at a time, slowly testing the bottom line of the spell. "It is cast with a spell. Only I can see it, and it can also block your perception."

"It's a prophecy."

"It predicts the location of Avalon and the fate of Dumbledore and the fortune teller himself."

"He asked me to help. At Christmas, he persuaded Professor Dumbledore not to wear a ring. He also told me to be careful with the Resurrection Stone."

"The writer of the letter is Professor Dumbledore's old lover, a very good fortune teller. If the prophecy comes true, he will be even more powerful than Professor Trelawney. I mean Professor Trelawney in the state of prophecy."

Hermione frowned. "Him?"

"Yes, it's him." Harry nodded and looked down at the spell on his wrist, thoughtfully.

This is of no use?

Say everything yourself.

It seemed to be a gentleman's agreement. Did he want to use this to remind himself not to tell Dumbledore the contents of the letter?

"What's a ring?" Hermione asked.

Harry shook his head, "I haven't heard of it. Maybe it's his and Professor Dumbledore's wedding ring?"

"I haven't heard that Dumbledore was married before." Hermione shook her head. "He also told you to be careful with the Resurrection Stone."

"Does that thing really exist?"

Harry hesitated and shook his head.

He seldom read books about myths, legends, unofficial histories, or miscellaneous gossip, but he knew a little about the Resurrection Stone, one of the three holy artifacts in wizard legend, which was said to have the powerful power to bring the dead back to life.

"Perhaps there is a heavy price to pay for using it?" Hermione carefully put forward her guess, "But since he said that, it's better to be on guard. There's no harm in that."

"And the most crucial question is, who is he?" Harry clapped his hands, took out the letter and tried to hand it to Hermione.

It went very smoothly without any obstacles.

But after Hermione finished reading it, she felt the same magical aura on her wrist.

Harry waved his wand lightly and destroyed the tiny breath of magic.

It is indeed a kind reminder.

Fortune tellers are extremely rare among wizards, and every fortune teller has a great reputation. However, those fortune tellers in the books do not look like Professor Dumbledore's old lover. They are either too young or too gender-inappropriate.

After asking Arthur and Molly, they found out that they knew very little about Dumbledore's past. Their knowledge of fortune tellers was not even as good as Arthur's knowledge of car and motorcycle models.

Unable to figure it out, Harry was not in a hurry to achieve success.

Enjoy the party on your birthday with peace of mind.

It was late at night when the Weasleys had to leave and go back.

Arthur secretly pulled Harry aside and handed him a notebook: "I heard from Sirius that you are planning to get a motorcycle as a mount?"

"This is a great idea. It's a pity that I only found out about your idea today. This is what I just sorted out. It contains some basic knowledge that you will need. There are also some other things that I will sort out for you after I get home."

Harry took the notebook and looked at Arthur: "Mr. Arthur, you..."

"Hush." ​​Arthur waved his hand and lowered his voice. "In fact, I am also studying these things myself. Of course, I am studying them legally and secretly under the laws of the Ministry of Magic. I believe that I have made more achievements in this area than Sirius."

"Thank you, Mr. Arthur." Harry took the note solemnly.

Arthur patted his shoulder: "If there weren't so many children in the family and you already have a godfather."

He really liked Harry.

Much better than George and Fred.

"But that doesn't affect the fact that you are my Uncle Arthur." Harry immediately changed his words.

Arthur smiled like Hedwig, and with a little drunkenness, he walked through the fireplace with his family and returned to the Burrow.

Hermione is staying tonight.

She comes from an ordinary family and did not apply in advance. She had already taken the Knight Bus once when she came here, and she didn't want to experience it again. Yes, she definitely didn't want to experience the Knight Bus again.

Wait until the next day.

After Harry got up, exercised, and made breakfast, he used a spell to bring out Lupin and Sirius, and asked the Patronus to wake Hermione up.

After lunch, Harry took Hermione back from the fireplace to the Leaky Cauldron, and then rode his motorcycle to take her home.

When Mr. Granger saw the motorcycle and the helmet, he almost fainted.

This is not a good look.

At least that's the view of a middle-class family like Mr. Granger's.

Until Harry took off his helmet and revealed his face.

Mr. Granger was immediately relieved. He had heard his daughter say many times that Harry was an excellent little wizard, top of the grade, with a good family background. He had no parents, but was very wealthy, and was of an orthodox wizarding family.

To be able to ride a motorcycle instead of some weird creature like a unicorn or a hippogriff.

It made him very happy.

At least it was a motorcycle and it didn't look out of place on the street.

Mr. Granger invited him to have lunch, and then Harry went home.

He still has a lot of things to do this summer vacation.

Researching potions, spells, and tinkering with his motorcycle.

Mr. Arthur's abilities were much greater than he appeared, and Harry finally understood where Fred and George's amazing talent for alchemy came from.

His achievements in alchemy were enough to earn him the title of "master" - although wizards were not very receptive to his achievements in improving the mechanical tools of ordinary people.

Arthur offered many useful suggestions on how to convert a mechanically driven motorcycle into one that was more like a living thing.

This even made Harry doubt whether the Weasley family really had a motorcycle or other type of car that could be used by humans. Harry had thought about ships and airplanes, but given the financial resources of the Weasley family, he quickly rejected this ridiculous idea.

All kinds of strange and bizarre spells always have magical effects in Mr. Arthur's hands.

During this period, he spent even more time on his motorcycle than on studying potions.

Until August 21st.

It was a full moon.

Lupin had escaped early, and although he was no longer in Hogwarts, Harry could still provide him with wolfsbane potion, just for safety. Even though Sirius had told him many times, Lupin was still stubborn, so Sirius had no choice but to turn into a big dog and stay with Lupin.

It is a clear evening.

Harry took out a fresh mandrake leaf, bathed in the full moon, put it in his mouth and pressed it under his tongue. This did not affect his speech too much, but he had to speak slower and be careful to protect the leaf.

A strange magic lingered about him.

Passing through the vast space, connected with the phases of the moon.

He is like an anchor for the moon phases, holding it in place on earth.

Lupin didn't look very well these days. When he finally got through this dangerous period, the Quidditch World Cup was finally coming.

Sirius had already prepared four tickets. Even though he was not willing to admit it, he had never inherited the Black family's property. So far, he had been using the legacy of his uncle. However, his identity as the only descendant of the Black family still brought him many conveniences.

The four tickets for the best seats were easily obtained by Sirius.

Two days before the match, Harry picked up Hermione.

The Weasley family did not miss this event either. Arthur got tickets with the best seats from the Department of Magical Games and Sports. This was the benefit of being an official of the Ministry of Magic. No matter how miserable the Weasley family was, Mr. Arthur was always the director of an office.

"How do we get there?" Harry looked at the map of Great Britain. "It's quite far."

"Generally speaking, the Ministry of Magic will choose to use portkeys." Sirius explained, "Godric's Hollow is allocated three portkey quotas."

Harry's face changed slightly.

He hated this type of teleportation spell.

"Some people also choose to travel by Knight Bus," Lupin continued.

Harry's face changed again.

This is worse than a portkey.

"But we can use a better method." Sirius looked at Harry, "Haven't you already started to cast a spell on the motorcycle?"

Harry nodded.

"Tonight is the time to verify the results!" Sirius waved his fist, "How about we have a competition to see which motorcycle is faster, yours or mine."

Hermione's face turned pale and she grabbed her sleeves: "How about we take the train? It's a pretty good means of transportation for ordinary people."

She had ridden Harry's motorcycle, weaving through traffic, pedaling the accelerator to the floor, speeding at lightning speed, and no one could catch up with him.

"It must be mine!" Harry deadpanned, "Godfather, yours is an old model."

"Technology, technology is the most important." Sirius refused to give in. "Mr. Potter, who was left far behind by me?"

"I was taking care of Dudley." Harry emphasized, "This time I'll let you see my ability."

As he said that, he turned his head and looked at Hermione, whose face turned even paler: "Don't worry, we are wizards, nothing will happen."

Hermione felt a little more relieved.

"Even if something unexpected happens, I still know the Patronus Charm and can contact people in time." Harry comforted her and added.

Hermione's eyes widened and she sighed.

At night, while the night was still dark, Sirius took Lupin and Harry took Hermione, and they flew to the Scottish Highlands.