See you tomorrow
It felt like being back in the Gryffindor common room, which the twins called the DA Advanced Class. Sirius's teaching style was much rougher than Harry's.
They need to get to practicing, no, practicing in real combat.
The six Gryffindors are randomly divided into two teams to battle, and whichever side Sirius is on will cheer. There are no rules in the battle; Harry can use the Invisibility Cloak, and the Twins can use their pranks and inventions as they please. On the battlefield, you have to use any means necessary.
The Armor Spell became the most frequently used spell, which Sirius found excellent. When one's strength is insufficient, the primary task is to protect oneself before seizing an opportunity. Moreover, the Armor Spell can sometimes have surprising effects.
Time seemed to pass particularly slowly in the old house. Harry would always think of Queenie while resting, panting, only to realize that the last time he thought of her was just twenty minutes ago.
Aside from the actual combat, Harry's attention was focused on the Queen in the bottle. With only a few days left until his birthday, he still hadn't been able to completely fix the shipwreck's minor problems.
The twins, intrigued, came over and solved the problem that had been troubling Harry for so long in less than ten minutes. Ron, looking at Hermione's frustrated face, said dryly that professionals should do professional things. Of course, she was an all-rounder, but the twins' skill points were too unbalanced.
It wasn't easy for any of them. Harry had to keep it from Queenie, while the other four had to keep it from the Weasleys. The atmosphere within the Order of the Phoenix had become increasingly tense these past few days, with meetings almost daily in the dining room. Often, the Weasleys would barely leave the Burrow before the twins, Ron, and Hermione would arrive at Black's Old House, leaving Ginny alone at home. Fortunately, Ginny knew the twins were busy at their shop, and Ron and Hermione were visiting Harry every day, so she hadn't noticed the changes in her family.
"Merlin's beard! What are you doing here?! Get out of here, this is no place for you!" Mrs. Weasley's scream echoed through the dining room.
Lupin was also quite surprised, but when he saw Sirius standing to the side, he immediately understood what was going on.
This is the last meeting of the Order of the Phoenix before the final battle. Snape has already sent definite news that Voldemort will be heading to Hogwarts tonight.
"Don't stand by the door. Find somewhere you like." Dumbledore showed no surprise, calmly instructing on the next steps. "Well then, in two hours, I'll be 'taken away' by the Ministry of Magic, and then—"
“Dumbledore!” Mrs. Weasley trembled with rage, but soon, the anger she felt at seeing the children there was overwhelmed by an even stronger fear.
“Molly,” Dumbledore said seriously, “Harry must participate in tonight’s operation; he has things he must do.”
"He's still a child!"
"He is the savior."
Mrs. Weasley trembled and could not say more. Mr. Weasley held her, his expression grave. "Then you—" he was referring to Hermione and the three Weasley children.
Hermione and Ron each took Harry's hand, saying, "We won't let Harry face this alone!"
Harry didn't say anything; his expression said it all.
"We're going to fight the Death Eaters!" the twins behind them shouted, looking at the two people standing next to the Weasleys. "Bill and Mrs. Fleur are here, why can't we? We're adults too!"
Bill touched his nose, while Fleur squeezed his hand happily.
Moody's magical eyes darted around, then he slammed his cane down on the ground and said gruffly, "Alright, Molly, trust Dumbledore. Let's continue, time is running out."
Taking advantage of the large crowd and the fact that their mother wouldn't lay a hand on them, the twins happily ran to her side, while Ron avoided eye contact with her the entire time, standing close to Hermione.
Dumbledore looked around at the people in the room, some young, some old, some excited, some uneasy. His calm voice rang out again like a reassuring balm, and he began to arrange the next steps.
After the meeting, Harry was kept behind by Dumbledore, while the members of the Order of the Phoenix headed to Hogwarts according to their plans.
Ron reluctantly followed Mrs. Weasley out under her glare, muttering, "The twins are here too, why are they only glaring at me?" Hermione gently comforted him.
Harry received a gesture from Dumbledore to sit down, and the latter looked at him gently. "You... are very brave, braver than I imagined. I once thought I shouldn't have placed the burden of defeating Voldemort on your shoulders, but—"
"Because of Horcruxes, right, Professor?"
Dumbledore didn't answer; he just looked at Harry's scar. "Magic is so wondrous, and the soul is far more complex than any spell."
Harry didn't quite understand, but he thought Dumbledore meant that the fact that Voldemort's Killing Curse was reflected by Lily's magic and tore apart his own soul, unintentionally turning him into a Horcrux, was very... complicated and strange.
This is truly amazing; even the author of The Tales of Beedle the Bard wouldn't dare write something like this!
“‘The Dark Lord marked him as his nemesis’—Tom chose you, Harry.” Dumbledore stared into his green eyes. “Fifteen years ago, he chose you as the prophesied child, and since then, he has chosen you again as the blood of the enemy necessary for his resurrection.”
Dumbledore tapped the table, and a small cup of golden liquid appeared out of thin air.
“I think Lily’s magic flowed into Tom’s body through your blood, making the connection between you stronger than ever before—as long as Tom doesn’t die, you won’t die, and as long as you don’t die, Tom’s soul will live on forever.”
Harry couldn't help but grimace as he recalled the talk about bloodlines.
"Unfortunately, Tom didn't know that he had accidentally created a living Horcrux. Perhaps this is fate." Dumbledore's voice sounded particularly distant when he said this. "Harry, you must be 'killed' by Voldemort himself. Only in this way can the fragment of your soul be destroyed without harming yourself."
He paused for a moment and then added, "Perhaps." This was the first time he had shown any uncertainty.
Harry's expression remained resolute. "I believe you, Professor Dumbledore."
“Good boy.” Dumbledore never doubted his courage. “But that doesn’t mean you should choose to die, but rather to face it calmly when it comes.”
"Like the third of three brothers?"
“Like the third of the three brothers.” Dumbledore pushed the glass of golden liquid on the table toward him. “Your birthday is less than three hours away. This is your birthday present this year. Please forgive me for giving it to you early.”
Harry smelled the scent he liked, but the color wasn't quite right. He asked in confusion, "Wild strawberry gin? Uh, Professor, I'm sixteen, not seventeen yet."
“This is Felix Felicis, which I obtained from Horace. I think you know its effects.” A smile flashed in Dumbledore’s eyes.
Harry picked up the cup, hesitated, and asked a question, "By the way, Professor, may I borrow Dobby from you? I have something extremely important to ask you... and there's really no one else suitable."
Dumbledore seemed to know what he wanted to do, but he refused. "I'm afraid I can't. Dobby is the leader of the Hogwarts house-elves' task force and has a big responsibility tonight. Perhaps you could try to entrust it to another house-elves?"
Harry frowned, looking troubled. "Uh, I don't know who else... Should I ask Kreacher? It would be a miracle if Merlin didn't curse me."
"It's never a bad thing to try." Dumbledore blinked.
Harry drank Felix Felicis while deep in thought.
Queenie felt that Harry was hiding something.
During the day, when the two talked on the phone, he always sounded like he was breathing heavily, as if he had just finished a strenuous workout, but he would either say he was cleaning or mowing the lawn.
But one time she clearly heard Hermione and Ron arguing, and when she asked, Harry hurriedly explained that it was just a couple of neighbors passing by. But after that, she never heard anything else from the phone—not even birdsong.
Harry couldn't leave his aunt's house, but Sirius went back to Godric's Hollow every day. However, he was too easy to understand; even in the form of a black dog, his emotions were still easily read.
Excitement and anxiety intertwined, anger and resistance mingled; based on Queenie's limited understanding of him, only Harry could elicit such an outward display of Sirius's emotions.
As for Hermione, they still kept in touch, chatting about gossip and such between sisters. Although Hermione's replies didn't reveal anything unusual, her tone was off, and her wording was noticeably more cautious, like she was writing a short essay.
Queenie knew something was wrong, but she couldn't find out, because it was clearly a matter for the magical world, and as a Muggle, she had no way of getting involved unless they told her.
The only time she can participate is in Harry's upcoming birthday celebration.
Since she was all alone at home, Queenie decided to try making a cake herself, following instructions she found online. She planned to make one for Harry herself.
The incident occurred the night before Harry's birthday.
Queenie made a few small cakes before bed and was about to go upstairs when she suddenly received a call from Harry.
His voice was muffled, "Queenie! Someone—uh, a house-elf—will be picking you up to go to Black's old house soon. Just stay there and relax, I—"
He paused, suddenly forgetting what he was going to say next.
Queenie stopped halfway down the stairs. "House-elves? To Black's old house? Where are you?"
“You know, it’s Kreacher. It looks very distinctive—quite distinctive. You’ll recognize it when you see it. Don’t mind its attitude.” A hoarse, cold snort came from the other end. Queenie heard Harry say something like “I’m sorry” as if turning his head to the side. “Darling, come with it to the old house, okay? Stay in my room. I need you to be safe. Tomorrow, when we meet tomorrow, I’ll tell you everything.”
Queenie took a breath. "Are we sure we'll see each other tomorrow?"
Harry paused for two seconds, then said, "Of course."
“Where should I wait for it? By the stone monument in the center of the square?” She remembered that the house was protected by the Mantra of Loyalty.
“Okay, you get five points—uh, right now, it’s gone.” Another explosion came from the other end, and Harry whispered, “Queenie, I love you, goodbye.”
Queenie gripped her phone tightly. "I love you too, Harry. See you tomorrow."
"Um... See you tomorrow."
After hanging up the phone, Queenie quickly packed her belongings and prepared to leave, but then ran back upstairs to get some more things.
Harry was right; anyone could recognize Kreacher at a glance.
It looks somewhat like a goblin from a video game, with a bald head, bat-like ears, tennis ball-sized eyes, a fleshy nose, and a disgusted and impatient expression on its face that makes it even uglier. Compared to it, Buckbeak could easily rank first on the list of the most handsome creatures in the wizarding world.
Queenie slowed her hurried movements slightly as she cautiously approached. "Mr. Kreacher?"
Kreacher let out a loud snort.
Queenie, "..." She felt like she was being racially discriminated against.
Kreacher was incredibly annoyed. That little brat Potter was too despicable! He actually dared to ask it such a troublesome favor right outside Master Regulus's room! It hadn't responded to Miss Bella's summons earlier, only out of respect for Master Regulus! But it was standing right there at Master Regulus's door, thinking of the kind and brave Master Regulus while listening to the foolish, noisy Gryffindor savior's rambling. By the time it realized what was happening, it had already agreed to Potter's unreasonable request. Kreacher immediately unleashed a torrent of insults, earning the savior's fawning smile in return.
“Well, Mr. Kreacher, could I ask you for a favor?” Queenie said eagerly. “I have some things here, Harry’s birthday cake—oh, sorry, that’s not the point, he can eat it tomorrow—these are magical defense items. Could you please take them to Harry? You must know where he is.”
Tsk, Potter's Muggle girlfriend is just as troublesome as he is.
But she's quite pretty.
The young lady whom Master Regulus once liked also had blonde hair.
With a sour face, Kreacher clutched the locket in one hand and Queenie's hem with the other, then disappeared into the night.
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