Chapter 292: Harry's Killing Intent

"I dare say that's his ultimate plan. Pen ~ Fun ~ Pavilion www.biquge.info" Fudge said vaguely.

'So we have to catch Blake before that, it's very important. If the mystery man was just alone, with no friends and no henchmen, it would be a different situation. But if his henchmen and minions make a comeback, he'll soon make a comeback, and the thought of it sends chills down my shoulders. ”

Thinking of Blake's crazy plan, everyone took a breath of cold air, more than ten years had passed since the peaceful days, and everyone didn't want to go back to that terrible dark day, that day when everyone was trembling under the fear of Voldemort.

"Or, Connelly, if you'd like to have dinner with the Headmaster, I'll take care of the introduction, or we'll go back to the castle now. Professor McGonagall couldn't hold back, and she was going to invite Fudge and Dumbledore to have a good talk.

When it came to this, everyone couldn't sit still, they quickly cleaned up and hurriedly got up to leave. The door to the tavern of the Three Broomsticks opened and closed, a snowflake drifted by, and the teachers were gone.

...........

"Harry!"

By the time George dragged Harry from under the table, he had become so stupid that his mind couldn't react at all.

Ron and Hermione looked at him with extreme worry, but the huge impact of information made Harry completely unconscious, and he couldn't react when everyone called him and talked to him.

In the end, George simply knocked Harry unconscious, carrying him back to Hogwarts like a sack.

Even after losing consciousness, Harry's mind was full of what he had just heard.

No one had ever told him before, and it was clear that he was the victim, and he was the party. But he is once again an outsider, he is excluded from the truth, he knows nothing.

No one told him the truth, whether it was Dumbledore, Hagrid, or Mr. Weasley, or Cornelius Fudge...

None of them intended to tell him that his parents had been betrayed to death by their best friends, and they had absolutely no idea who he was or what he thought.

But Harry himself cared deeply about it, and it was the only connection he could have with his family, whether it was a shared love or a shared hate.

During the night, Harry woke up from his bed, his stomach growling, and he found that next to his pillow, there was prepared bread, the aroma of which was overwhelming, and next to it was the encapsulated drink, which was his favorite taste. He knew that his friends had specially prepared it for him.

But he didn't pay any attention to it, and he crept up from his bed and walked to his bedside table, where he found what he was looking for.

He returned to his bed, pulled the curtains around him, and summoned light. He flipped through the photo album one by one, looking at the young, beautiful, lively and happy parents in the photos. At that time, just like he was now, Harry could still see that he was more and more similar to his mother in the photo.

He flipped through it slowly, until... He flipped through the photos of his parents getting married. His dad was waving at him, and Harry looked away from him.

He wasn't as smart as Professor McGonagall said, on the contrary, he was stupid. Because of his credulity and stupidity, he ruined all happiness, everything he had, and everything Harry.

Harry looked at his mom in the picture, a happy smile on her face.

Harry's eyes were wet and wet, and he held out his finger and gently touched the picture, "This poor woman, she doesn't know her future yet. ”

Then Harry saw another person, one who was holding hands with James Potter, dear and lovely, like a brother.

Harry had never noticed this man before, and he had only his parents in his eyes. Seeing this face now, he still couldn't imagine that the person in this photo was Sirius Black.

His face is completely different from the one on the wanted photo, not sunken and sallow, but a handsome, sunny countenance. He had a hippie smile on his face, and he looked like he was really smiling.

Was he already working for Voldemort at that time, was he already planning to kill the two people around him? Or maybe he had fallen after graduating, and after seeing the hardships of the adult world, he turned to Voldemort.

When he fantasized about becoming the leader of Voldemort's men, did he think that he would be imprisoned in Azkaban for twelve years?

"He hasn't given up until now, and he escaped this time, not only to kill me, but also to resurrect Voldemort. Harry muttered.

Looking at that hippie smiling, handsome and sunny face, Harry only felt his stomach cramping, and he felt a pang of nausea. He closed the album heavily, tucked it back into the bedside table, took off his glasses, and lay back on the bed.

Hatred spread like poison in Harry's body, in his blood. Scene after scene came to his eyes, and he could see Blake laughing at him through the darkness. Blake laughed and blew Peter Pettigrew to pieces.

He also seemed to hear Blake muttering excitedly, "Master, it's done, stupid Potter made me their couple's secret." Another voice familiar to him, laughing sharply.

Scene after scene of images kept coming up from the depths of his mind. Mother's pleading, fear, worry, Voldemort's snark, menace, and madness.

The coldness and murderous intent spread in Harry's heart, and blood flowed. He hated a lot of people, he hated a lot of people, but he didn't think about killing anyone.

He hated Snape, but he had no intention of killing him. He hated Malfoy, but he didn't think about killing Malfoy. He hates Lucius, and he does kill Lucius when he has the chance. Now, he hates Sirius Black, he must kill Black, he must kill him.

Harry didn't know if he was awake or in a dream, and in a trance, scene after scene pulled him in like the waves, drowning him, devouring him, making him unable to escape.

The hazy moonlight shone onto the earth, through the glass window, on a small bed. A lonely figure, a poor body, tossed and turned on the bed.

The figure's immature face showed various expressions of pain, and let out a shallow moan. Like the wail of hell, like the low cry of the abyss, the sound contains coldness, and the roommates on the bed next to him are unconsciously wrapped in the quilt in their sleep and shrunk into a ball.

It wasn't until he woke up again that Harry finally emerged from the gloom and dead silence.

.....

At breakfast, Hermione and Ron waited for Harry, and to their relief, Harry did look much more normal. He's still listless, but at least he's able to respond to everyone's concerns, he'll know it's time to eat, and everything is going well.

(To be continued.) )