Harry Potter snores loudly.

For most of the past four hours, he sat in a chair against his bedroom window, watching the street get darker and darker, but finally he couldn't help falling asleep with his face against the windowpane, his mouth open, his glasses crooked to one side.

His breath was condensed on the windowpane, and the orange light outside shimmered in a man-made light that obscured the color of his face, and he looked like a ghost with unkempt black hair. The room was littered with various items and garbage.

Owl feathers, apple cores, and candy wrappers were littered on the floor, robes were spread haphazardly on the bed, and a few spell books were mixed in, and the cloudy light on the table illuminated a few scattered newspapers. One of them reads with a bold headline: Harry Potter: Destiny?

Rumors of the recent mysterious unrest at the Ministry of Magic are still rife, and in the midst of this upheaval people have seen the Adversary whose name he can't even mention.

"We're forbidden to talk about this, don't ask me any questions," said an agitated amnesiac officer as he left the Ministry last night, refusing to give his name. However, through well-informed sources in the Ministry, we can confirm that the turmoil took place in the legendary Hall of Prophecy. While the spokesperson for the Ministry of Magic still refuses to acknowledge the existence of such a place, a growing public awareness is beginning to believe that the Death Eaters on trial in Azkaban for trespassing and attempted theft are preparing to steal the Prophecy Orb.

While we don't know what kind of prophecy it was, it is widely speculated that it is related to Harry Potter, the only known person who has escaped the curse of death, who also happened to be in the Ministry of Magic that night.

Some now refer to Harry Potter as "the Son of God", believing him to be the only one who can get rid of the Adversary who can't even mention his name. However, the whereabouts of the prophecy orb, if it exists, are unknown. (See column 5 of the second edition for details)

Next to it was another newspaper. It was headlined: Scrimgeour took over a large portion of Fudge's front page with a black-and-white photograph of a man with lion-like hair and a scarred face. The picture is movable - the man is waving at the ceiling.

Rufus Scrimgeur, former head of the Auror Office of the Law Enforcement Division, has succeeded Cornelius Fudge as Minister of Magic. The appointment was very popular in wizarding society, but within hours of his inauguration, rumors of a feud between Albus Dumbledore, who had just been reinstated as chief wizard of the Wizengamot, surfaced.

Scrimgeur's spokesman admitted that he had a meeting with Dumbledore immediately after taking office as minister, but declined to comment on the topics they discussed. Albus Dumbledore is (Continued from 3rd edition, second column) There is also a folded newspaper to the left of this sheet, on which you can see a report titled "The Ministry of Magic Keeps Students Safe".

The new Minister for Magic, Rufus Scrimgeur, said today that they will be taking strong measures to ensure that Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry students can return to school safely this fall.

"For well-known reasons, the Ministry of Magic will not release the details of this tight security plan," the Minister said, though we have been confirmed by sources familiar with the matter, which include a number of defensive spells, a complex set of spell-breaking spells, and a task force dedicated to the security of Hogwarts students, all made up of the Aurors.

However, Harry had known about this for a long time, in fact, Hermione had told him this information, and of course, there were other things he was expecting.

Harry was snoring in his sleep, his face sliding an inch or so off the glass, which tilted his glasses even more, and he still hadn't woken up.

An alarm clock that Harry had fixed years ago was ticking on the windowsill, and it was a minute away.

Harry, who slept next to him, held a piece of parchment in his hand, and the paper was filled with thin, slightly slanted words.

Harry had read it many times since he received it three days ago. Although the letter had been tightly tied into a cylinder when it arrived, it was now flattened and lay there quietly.

Dear Harry: If it is convenient for you, I will visit you at 4 Privet Road this Friday evening and pick you up and take you to the Burrow, where you will be invited to spend the rest of your holiday.

I would be glad if you could help me with something on the way to the Burrow, if you thought it fit. I'll explain this in more detail after meeting you.

Your sincerest of all, Albus Dumbledore!

Although he could have memorized the letter, he had been sneaking it every few minutes since seven o'clock in the evening, and he sat against the bedroom window, through which he could see both ends of the privet road at the same time.

He knew that there was no point in staring at Dumbledore's letters repeatedly, he had already sent an owl to deliver his "good", and as he was told, all he could do now was wait: whether Dumbledore came or not. But Harry hadn't packed his things yet. It only takes two weeks to get away with the Dursleys, and it seems too wonderful to be true. It was hard for him to shake the feeling that something was going to go wrong—maybe the owl had lost his letter to Dumbledore, that Dumbledore might not have been able to pick him up, or that the letter hadn't been written by Dumbledore at all, that it was just a hoax or a joke, or even a trap.

Harry couldn't bear the frustration of packing up and having to open them all again. So the only preparation he had for this possible trip was to keep his snow-white owl Hedwig safely in a cage.

At the moment when the minute hand of the alarm clock reached 2, all the lights on the street outside the window went out. The sudden darkness woke Harry like an alarm clock, and he hurriedly straightened his glasses, pressed his nose to the windowpane that was still against his cheek, and squinted his eyes at the pavement.

A slender figure dragged the long rolled cloak towards the path in the garden, and next to him there was a figure wearing a cloak, but Harry didn't recognize who it was, but it wasn't a problem, he knew who it was, so he didn't lie to himself?

Something suddenly occurred to Harry, and Harry jumped up like an electric shock, knocking over his chair as he began grabbing everything he could reach, piece by piece, and tossing it into his suitcase.

Just as he tossed his robes, two spell books, and a packet of potato chips from one end of the room to the other, the doorbell rang.