Chapter 140

Harry lay straight on the bed, his eyes wide open, and he was breathing heavily, as if he had run a full marathon.

Just now, he woke up from a very realistic dream and pressed his hands tightly on his face. Under his fingers, the lightning scar was burning, as if someone had pressed a red soldering iron on his forehead.

He sat up, one hand covering the scar, the other hand groping in the dark to get the glasses on the bedside table. He put on his glasses, the scene in the bedroom slowly became clear, and the light of the street lamp outside the window covered the bedroom with a hazy orange red soft light through the curtains.

Harry stroked the scar with his fingers again. It still hurt badly.

He turned on the lamp beside him, got out of bed, crossed the room, opened the wardrobe and looked at the mirror inside the cabinet door.

In the mirror, a thin 14-year-old boy was also looking at him. Under his messy black hair were a pair of green and confused eyes. Harry looked more closely at the scar on his forehead in the mirror. He couldn't see anything unusual, but it still hurt deeply.

Harry tried to recall the scene in his dream.

On weekdays, he often dreams, but none of them is as realistic as tonight... He frowns, focuses on his thoughts and desperately recalls

A dim room appeared before his eyes... The fire in the fireplace was not very bright... A man wrapped in black fog... And a young, gentle and calm voice... He always felt that he had heard it somewhere.

"... Tom Riddle?"

Harry suddenly thought of his thrilling experience in Slytherin's secret room in second grade.

"Can't you say... It's Voldemort!"

At the thought of this guy, I felt as if a piece of ice had slipped into my stomach

He closed his eyes tightly and tried to remember Voldemort, but he couldn't do it... Harry saw only a figure sitting on the sofa, and he was emitting an indescribable strange smell.

In his dream, he only felt a burst of inexplicable fear, and then suddenly woke up... Maybe it was because his scar suddenly hurt?

Also, who is the old man at the door?

At that time, the black guy went to open the door - there must be an old man there. Harry saw him fall to the ground

Alas, it's getting more and more chaotic.

Harry buried his face in his hand, prevented himself from seeing the scene of the bedroom, and tried to immerse himself in the dimly lit room.

However, it was like trying to hold the water with both hands. The more he tried to grasp the details, the faster they slipped through his fingers... Voldemort and the strange man just talked about Wormtail, as if they also talked about... Marca!

"Marca?" Harry was surprised by what he remembered. "What happened to Marca? Why did you mention him... And where is Voldemort?"

He jerked his face up from his hands, opened his eyes and stared around the bedroom as if he thought he would see something unusual.

The room always looked a little messy.

At the foot of his bed was a large wooden box, open, revealing the crucible, broom, black robe and all kinds of spell books that Harry read before going to bed last night. The pictures in this book are constantly moving. Young men in bright orange red robes ride on broomsticks, whizzing around, throwing a red ball at each other.

Instead of looking at what was familiar to him, he went to the window, opened the curtains and looked down at the street.

"Is there that... Shabby old house on this street?"

It seems that Privet Drive is exactly what a respectable suburban street should look like on Sunday morning. The curtains on both sides of the street were tightly drawn. Harry looked in the dark and could not see a living creature, not even a kitten.

However... However

Harry went back to the bed uneasily, sat down, and put out another finger to touch his scar. What bothered him was not the pain of the scar. Harry was used to pain and injury.

He was just worried, what kind of relationship did this pain have with Voldemort?

"... scar... Voldemort... Marca..." Harry suddenly widened his eyes and looked at the bottom of the wooden box. "Marca?"

He suddenly remembered what Marca had said to him, and then he remembered Professor Trelawney's prophecy about Voldemort's return.

He remembered that Maka repeatedly asked him to go as soon as possible

Thinking of this, Harry immediately jumped up from the edge of the bed, walked quickly to the big wooden box for things, and searched quickly

"Notes... Notes... Yes!"

Looking at the thick notebook, Harry couldn't help recalling the Christmas of the year when he first entered Hogwarts. At that Christmas dinner, Maka sent a large number of owls to bring all kinds of Christmas gifts to many people.

What Harry got was the book in his hand, on which was written the notes of "brain closure".

"But most of the books here are talking about all kinds of magic spell principles..." Harry said bitterly, "it's like taking a magic history class of magic spell Learning version..."

He looked helplessly at his bedroom again and his eyes fell on three birthday cards sent to him by his three best friends last year.

Speaking of, this year's birthday is coming again.

"What would they say if I wrote to them and told them that the scar hurt?"

His mind was immediately filled with Hermione's voice

"Your scar hurts? Harry, that's not normal... Write to Dumbledore! I'll check the common magic diseases... Well, maybe we should ask Marca..."

Yes, Hermione would certainly suggest: go to Hogwarts's headmaster and find the answer in a book. If not, she will consider whether to add some trouble to Maka.

Harry sighed and stared out the window at the heavy dark blue sky.

Maka is a very predictable person and has always been very reliable. Although he always looks very busy, as Hagrid said, he always brings warmth to everyone in many details.

In fact, they are always taken care of by Maka. For example, now, he seems to have thought of something he didn't even think of.

Harry thought about it and finally opened his notebook and read it hard.

……

While Harry was forcing himself to study, Hogwarts looked cold. During the holidays, the school suddenly became empty. And at dawn, it was dead.

Suddenly, a small figure came out of the castle and walked slowly towards the greenhouse.

With a "click", the door of the seventh greenhouse was opened. The figure walked into the greenhouse without hesitation and came to an area covered by black cloth.

Black cloth was quietly opened a corner, and the figure calmly walked in.

It seemed that the extra wide pointed hat on his head was in the way. It was gently taken off by its owner and put on a small shelf on one side.

Suddenly, a dazzling long white hair suddenly fell down. The hair was very long and spread to the bend of the legs.

She shook her head casually, then reached out and stroked the ends of her hair behind her ears. Immediately, a delicate and lovely face not often seen was quietly revealed.

This is Willy brova, a special secret existence in the French brova family.

Willie calmly looked directly at the bud in front of her. Surprisingly, she seemed not to be affected by this special magical plant called "enigmatic crystal".

She stretched out a delicate little hand and stroked the bud; Then she took out a thick notebook from the bag she was carrying behind her.

This is the herbal notes given by Maka to her. It records many research records and conjectures about "Enigma crystal" written by Maka before she was taken away.

Willie drew out her wand, cast a wand glow spell, and read it carefully.

As time passed, the darkness before dawn soon faded, and the sun peeped out from the east mountain. But because it was surrounded by black cloth, the light did not penetrate much.

But just then, Willie suddenly raised her head and stared at the buds, as if waiting for something.

Slowly, those flower buds gradually twinkled with bits of crystal, and became brighter with the rising sun outside.

After a while, the bud opened slowly.

With the petals of one of the "enigmatic crystals" unfolding, all the flower buds stretch out, and those crystal colors like stars make the whole surrounding space as beautiful as a fairyland.

The impact of this flower on organisms has reached a real peak with the flowering.

But somehow, Willie was still not affected. She just looked at the beautiful and dangerous flowers quietly, and sometimes carefully recorded what with a pen.

At this time, the flowers began to crystallize from the stamens, and in a moment, they spread to the whole plant.

It can be said that until now, they have really become rare "enigmatic crystal flowers" in ancient times. Willie gently took off one of them and made a brittle sound like a broken glass.

"... what are you thinking when others are intoxicated with you?" Willie said the most complete sentence so far intermittently.

Her eyes looked confused, but in a moment they gradually returned to the calm of the past.

"Marca said, you are very dangerous..." Willie looked down at the notes Marca gave her and asked herself, "what about me?"

She put the crystal flower on the page as usual.