Old Blood at Hogwarts

Now Aaron knew the reason for Hermione and Ron's panic.

Harry's scar hurt when Voldemort was near him, and now his scar hurt again - meaning, had Voldemort shown up again?

"But he wasn't there, was he? That mysterious man?" Ron said doubtfully, "I mean, the last time your scar hurt, he was at Hogwarts, right? ?”

"I know he's definitely not at Privet Drive," Harry said, "but I saw him in my dream...him and Peter...you know, Wormtail. I can't remember the whole situation in the dream. I just remember that they were plotting to kill...a person."

"It was just a dream." Ron encouraged him to cheer up. "It was just a nightmare."

"Yeah, it's just a dream." Harry turned to look out the window at the gradually brightening sky and said, "It's weird, isn't it?... My scar hurts. Three days later, the Death Eaters marched, and Voldemort The symbol appeared in the sky again."

"Don't... say... his... name!" Ron hissed through clenched teeth.

"Remember what Professor Trelawney said?" Harry ignored Ron and continued, "At the end of last term?"

Hermione let out a short scoff: "Oh, Harry, you don't take what that old liar said to heart, do you?"

"You weren't there, you didn't hear what she said." Harry said, "This time is different. Let me tell you, she went into a trance, a real trance. She said that the Dark Lord would come back, than before. More powerful and more terrifying than before. He could do this because his servants would return to him. That night, Wormtail escaped."

No one spoke for a moment, and Ron fiddled absentmindedly with a hole in his sheets.

"Why are you asking if Hedwig is back, Harry?" Aaron asked. "Whose letter are you waiting for?"

"I told Sirius about the pain in my scar." Harry shrugged, "I'm waiting for his reply."

"What a brilliant idea!" Ron's face suddenly turned cloudy and clear, "I dare say Sirius knows what to do!"

"I hope he gets in touch with me soon," Harry said.

"But we don't know where Sirius is... he might be as far away as Africa, right?" Hermione said wisely, "Hedwig can't reach that far in a few days."

"Yeah, I know," Harry said, looking out the window.

"Come on, Harry, let's have a game of Quidditch in the garden," said Ron. "Aaron can come too, and Bill, Charlie, Fred, George and Ginny can all join in. Ha." Leigh, you can try the Wronsky fake."

"Ron, Harry doesn't want to play Quidditch right now," Hermione said. "He's very upset and tired... We all need to go to bed."

"Okay, I'm willing to play a game of Quidditch." Harry said suddenly, "Wait a minute, I'm going to get my Firebolt."

Although Aaron wasn't a big fan of Quidditch, he didn't hate it either. He had nothing to do with it, so he didn't refuse.

Hermione left the room, muttering something to the effect of, "These boys!"

Afterwards, Aaron, Harry, and Ron called Bill, Charlie, Fred, George, and Ginny to play a four-on-four Quidditch match in the garden.Among them, Harry, Ron, Fred and George are one team, and Aaron, Bill, Charlie and Ginny are one team.Among the eight, Harry, Charlie and Ginny flew the best, followed by Fred and George, and Aaron, Bill and Ron flew the worst.

From an individual level, the two teams are about the same strength, but there is a big gap in the broomsticks they use.Aaron and the Weasleys both use older Sideswipe series (Aaron uses an old broomstick lent to him by Charlie), while Harry uses the latest Firebolt.There is an irreparable gap in performance between the two broomsticks, so the game ends with Harry catching the Golden Snitch.

For the next week, Aaron stayed at the Burrow.Life here is full of magic and surprise, and Aaron is startled by the mirror on the kitchen mantel.The first time he looked in the mirror, the mirror suddenly shouted: "Tuck your shirt into your pants, you are so sloppy!"

There lived a ghoul in the attic above Ron's room. Whenever he felt that the house was too quiet, he would howl loudly and bang on the pipes.

Neither Mr. Weasley nor Percy were home much.Every morning, before the rest of the family got up, the two of them left the house and didn't come back until long after dinner.

On the Sunday night before they were due to return to Hogwarts, Percy told them in a dignified manner: "It was a complete mess. It was like I was putting out fires all week. People kept sending howler letters. Of course, if you don't open the howler right away, it will explode. There are scorch marks all over my desk, and my best quill is reduced to a pile of cinders."

"Why do they have to send howler letters?" Ginny asked.She was sitting on the rug in front of the fire in the living room, patching up her copy of A Thousand Magic Herbs and Fungi with Clear Magic Tape.

"Complaining about safety issues at the World Cup," Percy said, "They want compensation for their damaged property. Mundungus Fletcher filed a claim for a [-]-bedroom apartment with accompanying Jacuzzi. tent, but I got to know him. I knew he actually spent the night under a cloak propped up on a stick."

Mrs. Weasley glanced at the grandfather clock in the corner.It was a magic clock with nine golden needles, each of which was engraved with the name of a Weasley family member.There are no numbers on the clock face, but the place where each family member might be is written.There are "home", "school" and "work", as well as "on the road", "missing", "hospital", "prison", and at twelve o'clock on an ordinary clock, it is marked "life danger".At this moment, all eight needles pointed to the position of "home", and Mr. Weasley's needle still pointed to "work".

Mrs. Weasley sighed and said, "Since the day You-Know-Who lost power, your dad hasn't had to work overtime on weekends. Now they're going to tire him out. If he doesn't come back soon, his dinner will be ruined."

"Hey, Dad feels like he has to make up for the mistakes he made on finals day, right?" Percy said. "To be honest, it was a little unwise for him to speak in front of everyone without asking his department heads."

"It's all written by that annoying woman Skeeter. How dare you blame your father for this!" Mrs. Weasley suddenly became angry.

"If dad doesn't say anything, that old fellow Rita will comment on the fact that people from the Ministry of Magic don't say a word and lose their status." Bill, who was playing chess with Ron, said, "Rita Skeeter never said anything." Write nice things about other people. Remember? She once interviewed all the curse breakers at Gringotts and then called me 'The Shaggy'!"

"I say, your hair is indeed a bit long, dear." Mrs. Weasley said softly, "Just let me..."

"No, Mom."

Raindrops pattered on the living room window.Hermione read "Standard Spells (Level [-])" intently.Charlie is darning a fireproof hood.Harry was wiping his Firebolt, a copy of the Broomstick Care Manual open at his feet.Fred and George sat in a corner over there, holding quills and leaning their heads on a piece of parchment, talking in low voices.

"What are you two doing?" Mrs. Weasley asked sternly, staring at the twins.

"Doing homework," Fred replied vaguely.

"Don't be embarrassed, it's the holidays now," Mrs. Weasley said.

"Yeah, we're kind of dragging our feet," George said.

"Are you writing an order form again?" Mrs. Weasley pointedly pointed out, "Are you thinking about doing another Weasley magic trick?"

"Oh, Mom." Fred looked up at her with a pained expression on his face, "If the Hogwarts Express train is crashed tomorrow and George and I are both dead, how do you think we'll die from you?" The last words you heard here were baseless accusations, how must you feel in your heart?"

Everyone laughed, including Mrs. Weasley.She looked up at the clock again and said, "Oh, your father is back!"

Mr. Weasley's needle suddenly jumped from "work" to "on the road". A second later, it tremblingly stopped at the "home" position along with the other needles.At this time, everyone heard Mr. Weasley's shout from the kitchen.

"Coming, Arthur!" Mrs. Weasley shouted, hurrying out of the room.

A moment later, Mr. Weasley walked into the warm living room carrying his dinner on a tray.He looked exhausted.

"Well, things are getting out of hand," he said, sitting in an armchair by the fire, toying listlessly with a plate of shriveled cauliflower. "Rita Skeeter has been camping around all week, searching. Is there any more chaos in the Ministry of Magic to report? Now that she has found out about poor old Berts' disappearance, it looks like that will be the headline in the Daily Prophet tomorrow. I told Bartiman that he had already Someone should be sent to find her.”

"Mr. Crouch has been saying that for weeks," Percy said quickly.

"Crouch is lucky that Rita didn't find out about Winky." Mr. Weasley said irritably. "His house elf was caught with the wand that conjured the Dark Mark. This incident It could be a front-page headline for an entire week.”

"I think we all agree that the elf, despite his lack of responsibility, did not conjure the Dark Mark, right?" Percy argued vehemently.

"If you ask me, I think Mr. Crouch is very lucky that the people at the Daily Prophet don't know how he tortured the elves!" Hermione said angrily.

"Hermione, think about it!" said Percy, "a senior official of the Ministry of Magic like Mr. Crouch deserves the absolute obedience of his servants."

"You mean his slave!" said Hermione, her voice rising excitedly. "Because he doesn't pay Winky, right?"

"I think you should all go upstairs and see if your luggage is packed!" Mrs. Weasley interrupted their argument, "Go quickly, you all go..."