The weather in this part of London can really change your mood at any time.
I don't know if it was a warning for the coming fog. The originally clear sky gradually darkened, and soon there were even misty raindrops.
The ground under my feet was wet from the rain and gradually became a little muddy.
However, this slight change did not affect Harry's fighting spirit, which was aroused by the sacrifice of the Aurors just now.
After passing through the battlefield from the rear to the front line where the fighting was fiercest, he held the shining silver Gryffindor sword and rushed into the group of living corpses on the opposite side without hesitation.
Due to the large number of wizards trying their best to block the advancement of the living zombies, the density of enemies in the front line was surprisingly high. He didn't even need to control the accuracy of his sword swing. He just flicked it casually and the sharp blade was able to pass through the bodies of several dead people without any hindrance.
Suddenly, Harry, who was holding a sharp blade, was like a hungry wolf breaking into a herd of sheep. He tore a gap in the front line just by constantly waving his sword, and broke in quite forcefully.
"Harry? Don't rush too far—"
Sirius, who was leading the team to attack the zombies, accidentally caught a glimpse of Harry's back. It's just that the opponent rushed too fast, and he only had time to shout, before he saw that the figure had disappeared into the enemy group and disappeared.
And even Sirius, who had strong eyesight, only saw Harry slightly. On the front line of this chaotic battlefield, there were obviously very few people who could see Harry's appearance.
It's just... Of course, even if everyone sees it, it probably won't help. Just like Sirius at this moment, although he was extremely worried about Harry's safety, he couldn't do anything about it.
He is not Harry, and he does not have a melee weapon like Gryffindor's sword!
For a modern wizard, abandoning long-distance combat and choosing to get closer to the enemy is equivalent to a cowboy abandoning his revolver and choosing hand-to-hand combat. Not to mention whether the cowboy who did that was an idiot, at least he didn't feel regretful when someone else's bullet flew towards his head.
Having said that, Harry wielding the Sword of Gryffindor is surprisingly powerful.
Especially when there are no other creatures around except enemies, you only need to wave the sharp blade as much as you want, and those living corpses will fall down one after another like wheat being harvested in the field.
In just a moment, Harry almost sprinted into the middle of the group of living corpses.
However, even though he had inexplicably acquired extraordinary physical abilities from the Sword of Gryffindor, he was still a human being and did not turn into some strange non-human species like Herbo. After waving his sword with all his strength and knocking down many living corpses, his body was covered in dark red blood and he gradually showed signs of fatigue.
But compared with him, the sword of Gryffindor, which is still as bright as a mirror, seems to be always "energetic". This makes people realize that Harry, who is holding a sharp blade now and majesticly, is actually far from getting it. The sword's approval.
okay! Harry himself is probably the only one who realizes this right now.
"courage!"
Suddenly, his movements were slightly slower, and he suddenly shouted loudly, and then the speed of swinging his sword increased instead of decreasing. The extremely sharp blade followed his dancing arm, cutting off the raindrops, and went straight to the chest of the next enemy.
But at that moment, he suddenly stopped.
"Petunia... Aunt?"
Yes, Little Whinging is right next to London, and is only more than ten miles away from central London. It is quite possible that the Dursleys happened to be there when the Fog Disaster occurred in London.
But these days, Harry has worried almost everyone, but he has never thought about the situation of his uncle, aunt and family.
There was no way, why had the Dursleys never left the slightest good impression on him
However, Harry thought that he would never care about the bad relatives and family who had allowed him to live in the cupboard for ten years. But now when he saw his aunt with dull eyes and messy hair coming towards him with her teeth and claws bared, the sword in his hand stopped in mid-air involuntarily.
At this moment, for the first time, Harry felt a little confused about his own thoughts!
That's right, the hatred for the Dursleys and his aunt must exist somewhere deep in his heart.
But whether he hates the opponent so much that he wants to strike at him with a sword...
"No, it's not right... It shouldn't be like this..."
A lot of thoughts flew through his mind like lightning when he saw the face across from him clearly. Then, while muttering to himself, he subconsciously took a step back.
In fact, Harry may also understand that regardless of what his Uncle Vernon is like, at least his aunt Petunia Dursley is still kind to him.
Whether it was because of fear of Dumbledore or a little sadness over his sister's death, at least Harry had never been hungry since he was a child. Even though he didn't get to celebrate his own birthday, he still got some cakes and the like when Dudley celebrated various festivals.
As for those things, it was naturally impossible for Uncle Vernon to give them to him on his own initiative. After all, it was Aunt Petunia who threw them in front of him while scolding them for no reason.
Ever since he was a child, no matter how dull Harry was, he could still sense that his aunt had some rather complicated and unspeakable feelings towards him.
Unfortunately, it seemed that Harry would never know what the other party thought of his nephew.
Just as Harry took a step back and was stunned for a moment, several zombies stretched out their arms towards him and climbed onto him while he was not swinging his sword.
Then, one of the zombies opened his mouth and bit his arm.
"hiss-"
Harry was in pain and finally came back to his senses from the chaotic thoughts at that moment. In desperation, he followed his instinct and handed the Sword of Gryffindor to his unbitten left hand, and then lifted it behind him with his backhand.
"Chi—"
With a slight cutting sound, several living corpses crawling on him immediately fell to the ground, but they still clung to his robe.
"Let me go!"
Harry is obviously not someone who can remain calm in a melee. Rather, he is the type who gets more and more emotional as he fights.
The situation of being entangled by living corpses and restricting his movements made him immediately irritated. The sword in his left hand kept dancing, and the blood of the living corpses around him that he stabbed and chopped spattered several feet high. .
Immediately, the already chaotic scene became several times more chaotic.
"ah!"
During the random chops, Harry suddenly seemed to have seen something bad happen, and couldn't help but let out a low cry among the living corpses.