"Teacher, I, Maka McClain, as the student who accepts your magic inheritance, leave it to me to deal with Mr. Riddle!"
To be honest, not many people heard this sentence clearly that night, but this kind of thing is particularly convincing when it is spread by word of mouth.
In short, it was Maka and his teacher Gilderoy Lockhart who drove away Voldemort. This is the reality in front of everyone and there is no doubt about it.
That night, the most impressive thing was Maka's sudden appearance. Almost everyone's memory was fixed on the icy blue light pillar that broke through the sky.
As for what happened next, it is secondary.
People only need to understand one thing, and that is - after Dumbledore, everyone has a new person to rely on, and his name is Gilderoy Lockhart!
What is his strength, you ask? joke! The students he taught are so strong, and he himself must be even stronger!
Public opinion is always blind, but it is also full of power.
This time, "The Quibbler" edited by Mr. Lovegood published the incident earlier than the "Daily Prophet". In conjunction with Maka's promotional efforts for the audio-visual conference, Mr. Lovegood was really good this time. Made a lot of money.
Although this was inseparable from Maka's prior reminder, Mr. Lovegood's trust also brought him a lot of "encouragement".
Voldemort made a strategic retreat this time, but when he will come back next time is still an unknown question.
However, although Voldemort seems to have calmed down a lot after being frustrated twice in a row, big troubles have not occurred, but small troubles still continue. Recently, the Order of the Phoenix has taken more actions than before.
The overall situation will not actually get better because of this morale boost. After all, the root cause has not been eliminated. Even if it seems to be temporarily stable, what should be faced will eventually have to be faced.
Fortunately, due to Maka's audio-visual conference plan, a large number of dark wizards and Death Eaters were re-captured, and the negative impact of the previous prisoners' escape was suddenly reduced a lot.
"The weather is really getting hotter and hotter!"
Maka put down her quill and sighed, then picked up the white potion bottle on the table and poured two drops under her feet. Immediately, a faint chill rose up, and a chill spread throughout his body.
"Oh—comfortable!"
…
Today is probably the hottest day of the summer.
After that night, Harry returned to the Dursleys and continued to live his usual boring Muggle life. The scope of his activities has not changed much. Apart from his own room, the only thing left is behind the hydrangeas outside the window.
What he saw and heard that night had a great impact on Harry. No, it can be said that it had a great impact on everyone, and Hermione and Ron were also shocked.
But at least they won't worry about their foreheads, right
"Thank God, that bastard is no longer hanging around in front of me...um...where did he go?"
In the room, his uncle Vernon Dursley suddenly started talking, and Harry lay lazily under the flowers, listening boredly.
"God knows," said Aunt Petunia, who seemed unconcerned about the matter, "but not in the house."
This caused Uncle Vernon to mutter impatiently.
"That kid actually likes to watch the news!" he said harshly, "I would like to know what he plans to do! Who would be interested in the news as a normal kid? Dada will change the channel as soon as he sees the news. I doubt him I have no idea who the Prime Minister is!
"...I said, it's impossible to have anything related to people like them in our news—"
"Hush Vernon," said Aunt Petunia, "the window isn't closed!"
"Oh! Yes... I'm sorry, honey."
The Dursleys finally shut up!
Harry was listening to a certain advertising jingle related to a vegetable and wheat bran healthy breakfast, while looking at the roadside - Mrs. Figg was slowly passing by there, her brows furrowed and her mouth mumbling.
She was an old lady with a weird temper and a lot of cats who lived on Wisteria Road. Her home was not far from here.
"Oh! Fortunately I was hiding behind the flowers. If Mrs. Figg had seen me, I would probably have been invited over for tea again - she has been doing this all the time lately."
Harry was thinking to himself when he saw Mrs. Figg turned the corner and disappeared.
At this time, Uncle Vernon's voice came from the window again: "Where's little Dudley? Have you gone out for tea?"
"Yes, the Porches," said Aunt Petunia lovingly, "Look at our little darling, he has so many friends, and everyone loves him!"
Harry tried hard to keep from snorting.
The couple were incredibly stupid when it came to their precious son. Dudley spent every night during the summer vacation telling stupid lies about going to one of his best friends' houses for tea, but they actually believed him!
Of course Harry knew very well, how could Dudley be interested in drinking tea
He would only go to the playground with those "good brothers" every night to destroy public property, gather on the curb to smoke, or use stones to hit passing cars and children with a wicked smile.
When Harry walked around the community in the evening, he saw their bad behavior more than once.
During this summer vacation, he spent most of his time wandering the streets, digging through trash cans and finding newspapers to read - to be honest, this was much more comfortable than staying at the Dursley's all the time.
At this moment, the opening tune of the seven o'clock news started playing. Harry concentrated his attention and listened with a little nervousness.
“… Spanish baggage handlers’ strike enters second week, holidaymakers stranded at airport in large numbers… “
"If it were me, I might as well let them enjoy a lifelong nap." Before the news anchor finished speaking, Uncle Vernon yelled viciously.
But it doesn't matter, the hanging stone in Harry's heart quietly fell to the ground in the flower bed outside.
If something had happened, it wouldn't have been in the headlines - disaster and death would have been far more important than vacationers stranded at the airport.
He slowly took a breath and raised his head to look at the blue and clear sky.
Almost every day of this summer vacation is like this: tense, waiting, temporarily relieved, and then the string in my mind continues to tighten a little bit.
Because of this, one question is becoming ever more pressing: Why hasn't anything happened yet
Harry regained his composure and continued listening. He was afraid that there might be some inconspicuous clues mixed in that Muggles might miss - someone was missing, or some strange accident happened.
But after the news of the porters' strike, there was the drought in the southeast of the country, then there was a helicopter that almost crashed in Noda, Surrey, and then there was a popular actress who was just like her. The famous husband is getting divorced.
The Dursleys' complaints were as fierce and stupid as ever. In contrast, the straightforward news broadcast made Harry feel more at ease.
He narrowed his eyes slightly because the sunset in the sky became a bit dazzling.
"Finally, Bungie the budgie has found a new way to cool off this summer! Bungie, who lives in Five Feathers Street, Barnsley, has mastered the art of water skiing! Mary Dorkin details it for you Report.”
Voldemort has indeed returned, he even saw it with his own eyes at the audio-visual conference! However, nothing bad seems to have happened in the Muggle world.
Is it true that nothing happened? Or... was there actually an accident that happened, but it was just covered up by the British Ministry of Magic
Now that we're talking about budgie water skis, there probably won't be any news worth hearing. Harry gently stood up and prepared to use his hands and feet to leave the flowers where he was hiding.
Yet, he dared to say, he had only climbed two inches!
But just two inches away, a lot of things happened in succession.
Just a loud, echoing crack, like a gunshot, broke the drowsy silence; a cat jumped out from under a car parked on the roadside, and disappeared after a few moments; the living room There was a curse and a scream, and the sound of something breaking.
Harry, who was always on edge, seemed to have been waiting for this moment.
He stood up abruptly and took out his wand from his jeans pocket - but before he could stand upright, his head hit the open window.
There was a "bang" and Aunt Petunia was frightened and screamed again.
Harry felt like his head had been split in half, and the pain made his eyes blurry with tears.
He swayed and stared at the street, trying to clear his blurred vision again so he could figure out where the sound came from.
But just as he barely stood still, two big hands stretched out from the window and grabbed his neck tightly.
"Put away that stick!" Uncle Vernon said, shaking Harry's neck hard. "Quick! Don't let anyone else see it!"
"Let... let go... me!" Harry's voice was forced out of his oppressed throat.
Harry struggled, using his left hand to pry off Vernon's hot dog-like fingers, while his right hand still held the wand tightly.
Immediately, Harry's head, which was already in unbearable pain, suddenly felt a sharp pain.
Uncle Vernon howled and let go of his hand as if he had been struck by lightning. It was as if an inexplicable energy surged out of his nephew's body and flicked his fingers away.
At this moment, faces popped out of several nearby windows. Harry quickly stuffed his wand back into his jeans pocket and pretended to be fine.
"What a charming evening!" Uncle Vernon waved to the wife across the street, "Did you hear the sound of the car backfiring just now? Petunia and I were both frightened!"
He had an ugly smile on his face until the curious neighbors disappeared one by one from the window.
Then, his smile immediately turned ferocious again.
"What the hell are you doing, you bastard?" Uncle Vernon asked in a low voice.
"Uh... excuse me, please... do you know how to get to Hogwarts?" Suddenly, a soft, timid voice sounded from behind Harry, "... I seem... lost. "