“…… I know you've been feeling aggrieved lately, but just keep to yourself, and everything will be fine. Be careful not to do anything rash. ”

At least, Sirius understood how Harry was feeling at the moment.

That's right, Harry sent a letter to Sirius as well.

Admittedly, Sirius's letter was the same as Ron and Hermione's, and he didn't reveal anything to Harry, but Sirius's letter contained words of comfort and admonition, rather than half-concealment like they did, which made him itch.

But then again, Harry did most of Sirius's bidding, at least he resisted the temptation to strap the box to a broomstick and fly straight to the Burrow to find out.

In fact, Harry felt that he had been doing very well all along.

He was so angry and frustrated that he had been trapped in the Dursleys for so long that he had to hide in a flower bed in order to hear the slightest revelation that might reveal what Voldemort had done!

However, Sirius told him not to act recklessly, which was really infuriating.

He has an inextricable connection with Voldemort, and he has experienced a lot of messy events from the beginning of his confusion to now trying to face it head-on.

Probably every wizard will call him "the boy who never dies" as soon as they see him! Now he also seems to have a sense of responsibility in his heart...... No, to be precise, the feeling of being a "major party".

He couldn't understand why it was as if everyone was avoiding him this time, was something going on?

Harry thought so as he walked through Magnolia Crescent Street, turned onto Magnolia Road, and habitually walked towards the playground, which was gradually getting a little darker.

But as soon as he took a step, he stopped again.

"Are you still going to follow me?"

Harry found that he couldn't say anything harsh about the woman who seemed to be shrinking, and he could only refuse to follow him in a relatively tactful tone.

Even if he had suspected from the beginning that this woman was actually a beast that had not yet shown its fangs.

"But I'm ...... There's nowhere else to go......"

The woman took a step back as if to confirm the distance, and she had always been sensitive to other people's emotions, and she had already vaguely sensed Harry's rejection of her.

"And ......," she muttered, "what you just said...... Wait until school starts ......"

"I didn't say I had to take you!" Harry snorted.

Maybe Harry was depressed recently, and the woman in front of him was very inexplicable, and when he said this, his voice unconsciously increased.

The woman was visibly stunned for a moment, and then there was a cowardice that did not match her age. Faced with Harry, a boy who was nearly ten years younger than her, she was the first to flinch.

"Ah...... Well...... Yes, I'm sorry......" The woman took a few steps back, looked at Harry in confusion, and then turned and ran away.

Harry looked in the direction she was leaving, and subconsciously reached out towards the back, but then frustrated himself with his half-stretched hand behind his back.

"What a thing! Who the hell is she? ”

Harry couldn't help but feel as if his irritability had risen by a whole level!

The playground still has a locked door, but it's no different from not locking it. Harry leaped over and walked on the dry and messy lawn, which was as empty as the surrounding streets.

Coming to a certain swing, Harry picked out a Dudley swing that they hadn't had time to tinker with and sat down, his arm curled around the chain, his melancholy gaze staring at the ground.

If the Dursleys find out today, he will no longer be able to hide in the flower beds, and tomorrow he will have to find another way to eavesdrop on the news.

And for the same reason, he couldn't count on anything today, and another terrible night was going to be in front of him.

By the way, the scar on his forehead has started to sting again in the past few days, which really makes him very uncomfortable.

Although he also discovered that the "brain occlusion" could stop the pain, it only relieved the pain, not prevented it, and he couldn't keep his brain closed all the time - he couldn't do it at all.

But he knew that Ron, Hermione, and Sirius probably wouldn't have any good ideas either. Maca might be able to tell him something, but he can't reach him unilaterally, so what's the use?

"No, you can't blame Maka ...... anyone's fault."

The book on Occlumency had been given to him early in the morning, and if he hadn't had it, he would have been more miserable now—he couldn't be so unconscionable.

But is he supposed to wait? It's also so depressing...... The resentment in his heart kept piling up, and he couldn't help but want to shout out loud.

He's the Triwizard Tournament champion! Although this championship seems to have moisture, he can understand this. After all, to say that he won over Maca is not even believed by himself.

Anyway, he's also a champion! He's working hard, too!

In order to pass the bizarre and thrilling levels, he not only spent twelve points of energy to prepare, but also in the underground tower.

And what about what he gets in return? He was trapped in Little Whinging for four weeks, almost completely losing contact with the wizarding world.

He had to squat every day among the dying hydrangeas, just to hear the news about budgies and water skis.

The only time I participated in the audio-visual meeting, it was a pair of strange violent sisters, who were taken directly to the scene after they tossed him and fainted!

These resentful thoughts were churning in Harry's mind, stirring up his mind.

By this time, night had fallen, and another drowsy, sultry night had arrived.

The air was filled with the smell of dead grass, and all you could hear was the sound of cars whizzing by on the road outside the playground.

Harry didn't know how long he had been sitting on the swing until the faint sound of voice interrupted his musings. He looked up and saw the street lamps casting hazy lights.

In the distance, several figures were walking through the playground, one of them humming a vulgar song while others laughed and cursed.

There was also a faint clicking sound, the sound of chains from several high-end road cars being pushed.

Harry knew who the group were—the one who was in the lead was undoubtedly his cousin Dudley Dursley, who was walking in the direction of home with his fox friends.

Dudley is still as tall as he used to be, but a year of strict diet and a newly developed talent have made a big difference in his fat belly.

Recently, Uncle Vernon would say that Dudley became the Southeastern junior heavyweight intercollegiate champion. Uncle Vernon's call for this "noble sport" had clearly made Dudley even more fearful.

Harry still remembers being Dudley's first free punching bag when he was in elementary school. At that time, he felt that Dudley's fist was powerful enough.

Although he didn't have the slightest fear of this cousin who was five big and three rough now, he felt that Dudley's punches were getting more and more accurate and ruthless, and there was not necessarily anything to congratulate.

The children in the neighborhood were scared of Dudley—even more than the "Potter Kid". Parents had warned them that "Potter" was a recalcitrant thug who was being educated at the St. Bruce Center Juvenile Delinquent School.

Of course, Harry guessed from a semicircular part that it must have been spread by his "good" uncle and "good" aunt.

Harry watched the dark figures walk across the meadow, wondering who they had beaten up again tonight.

"Hurry! Look back, my cousin! I'm sitting here alone! Come and clench your fists at me! He thought boredly.

If Dudley's violent accomplices were to see him sitting here and rush straight at him, how would his "good cousin" react?

He certainly didn't want to lose face in front of his "buddy", but he didn't dare to provoke Harry. It must be fun to watch him in a dilemma, to mock him, to admire his discomfort that he can't resist!

If anyone else dared to beat Harry, he would be prepared - he had a wand in his hand! Come and try it! He's itching to vent his frustration on the boys who have made his life like hell!

But it's all just a matter of thinking.

It was definitely unwise to fight with a Muggle, he was never allowed to use magic, and it would be really bad if he was expelled from school.

Dudley's group walked farther and farther along Magnolia Road until the sound disappeared from sight.

"You can rest assured, Sirius," Harry muttered gloomily, "don't act recklessly, and keep to yourself...... It's the opposite of what you did. ”

He jumped off the swing and stretched hard.

At the Dursleys, his aunt and uncle seemed to think that when Dudley appeared at home, this should be the threshold time, and after that time, it would be too late.

Uncle Vernon had threatened to lock Harry in the shed if he came home after Dudley.

Harry yawned, and headed for the playground gate with a sad face.

Magnolia Road is similar to Privet Road, with large square houses lined up along the road, and the grass is meticulously manicured. And their owners are all boxy and big, with spotlessly clean family cars like Uncle Vernon's.

Harry prefers the little Whinging area at night, with curtains drawn on each window, as if dotted with patches of different colors on a black canvas.

If he passed by during the day, he would always hear the head of the household at the door muttering disapprenantly to him as a "juvenile delinquent", but there was no such thing at night.

He walked fast, and halfway down Magnolia Road, he saw Dudley's gang again. They......

"What are they doing here?"

Harry stepped into the shadow of a large lilac tree, peered his head over the place, and then looked stunned.