In fact, he'd been staying home since Harry had last seen Van Lin and Hermione.

However, it wasn't a pleasant experience for him, and the strange, damn dreams haunted him like nightmares, which made him mentally miserable.

......

Harry lay flat on his back, breathing hard, as if he were running. He was awakened by a very vivid dream, and he covered his face with his hands. The old scar on his forehead, like a thunderbolt, burned under his fingers, as if someone had pressed a red-hot wire against his skin.

He sat up, pressed the scar with one hand, and in the darkness used the other hand to grab his glasses, which were placed on the table next to the bed. He put on his glasses, and the bedroom could be seen more clearly, as the faint orange-yellow light shone through the curtains in the room.

It was the smallest bedroom in the Dursleys, and it had been Dalí's storage room, but it was now his.

After going to Hogwarts, the Dursleys' dislike of him became more blunt, but it was undeniable that his life changed a lot because of it.

They are afraid of magic, unknown powers.

Harry touched the scar with his fingers, which still hurt, turned on the light beside him, got up from the bed, walked to the other end of the room, opened the closet, and looked into the mirror inside the cabinet door: a thin fourteen-year-old boy looked at him, his black hair was disheveled, and a pair of bright green eyes showed a puzzled look. He looked at the thunderbolt scar a little closer. It looks normal, but it still has a hot feeling.

Harry struggled to remember what had been in his dream before waking up, and it all seemed so real,...... There were two people, but he didn't know either of them, and he couldn't understand why the sight was in his mind.

He tried desperately to concentrate all his energy, what did he want to remember......

The dim picture of the gloomy room came to him, it was a very old house, like a noble manor, but it looked like it hadn't been repaired for a long time.

The wooden floors of the house were very shabby, which reminded him of the screaming shacks, but it wasn't that dirty.

After a while, as the picture progresses, a snake crawls up the stairs, black and green patterns mixed, and the snake is very large, as if it were a Brazilian python that he released from the zoo.

It looks very aggressive.

The snake crawled slowly, skirting the door, and the light in the room was not bright, even cold.

Through the crack in the door, Harry saw a man kneeling in front of a sofa seat.

The man was dressed in a black leather coat, and his face was blue and stubble, and he looked like he hadn't cleaned it for a long time, or at least his face wasn't so good-looking.

"My master, your most faithful servant......"

Master?servant?

The term was only used among the nobility, and of course, the house-elves were called that, and Van Lin had given up on correcting Dobby.

That nervous little elf.

There was also a man in a cloak in the room, his face was very pale, like one who never saw the sun, but his eyes were dark red and looked a little cloudy.

Harry had never seen such a pupil before.

The man stood aside very respectfully, but this gave Fan Lin the feeling that it was very dangerous.

But then, to Harry's worst, he heard Voldemort's voice.

It was like swallowing a chunk of ice alive, and Harry swore that he had never felt so cold even when he was struck by Vanlin's spell.

"You are doing well, my servant. Voldemort's voice was hoarse, but it was very measured.

"With Tefrey's help, I have had a body for a short time, but as you can see, I'm still very weak. ”

Is that the name of the man who didn't speak?

But what made Harry even more concerned was that Voldemort actually had his own body, which was not good news, Voldemort was resurrected?

Harry wanted to continue listening, but the snake climbed into the sofa chair.

The slightest snake whispered, and before Harry could think, Voldemort spoke.

"Nagini told me that the Muggle caretaker of the house was standing outside the door eavesdropping. ”

Immediately after, Tefrey stood in the doorway, and his movements were fast.

"Let me personally welcome our guests, Tfrey. Voldemort said, the chair he was sitting in turned towards the door.

Harry closed his eyes tightly, he tried to think about Voldemort's appearance, but it was impossible, all Harry could remember was the fear, the twitches he felt as Voldemort's chair turned, and woke his mind...... Maybe the pain of the scar woke him up?

Who's that old man? Because there must be an old man. Harry saw him fall to the ground. It all became blurry, and Harry covered his face with his hands and used his house as a composition, trying to catch the picture of the gloomy room, but doing so was like scooping water with a synthetic cup-shaped hand, and when he tried to remember the details, they slipped away...... Voldemort and his two followers were talking about the man they had killed, but the name of the man he couldn't remember...... And they're planning to kill someone again...... He......

Harry took his hands away, opened his eyes, and looked around the room, as if to see something out of the ordinary. Yes, there really are many unusual things in his room.

A large box at the foot of the bed opened, revealing a large steam pot, broom, black shi, and different kinds of spelling textbooks. Rolls of parchment were scattered around his desk, not in the large, empty cage where his snow-white owl roosted. There was a book on the floor next to the bed, which he had read before he fell asleep the previous night. The pictures in the books are moving. Men in bright orange robes galloped on broomsticks, visible and invisible for a moment, throwing a red ball at each other.

Harry walked towards the book, picked it up, and saw a wizard scoring a good ball by throwing it over a fifty-foot ring. He slammed the book shut. In Harry's opinion, even the best moves in a Quidditch World Cup couldn't appeal to him at the moment.

He put "Flying with a Cannon" on the table next to his bed, walked to the window, opened the curtains, and looked at the street below.

It was a terrible night, at least Harry had a hard time.