The Death Eater stood not far away, looking at Vernon, who had become a bloody man and was still standing with his arms outstretched in the gap long since he was silent.

There was a rare silence, and only after a long time did someone say cautiously:

"This Muggle. It's supposed to be dead, right? ”

Bellatrix took a few steps forward, walked around Vernon, and kicked him in the foot.

The fat, bushy beard, best at yelling at people, slammed into the ground, splashing dust all over the sky.

"Phew!"

Bella spat in his face, and the Death Eaters burst out laughing maniacally, as if that would hide the horror in their hearts.

But only they knew, and perhaps in the years to come, they would never forget that there was a Muggle standing in front of them, resisting an attack that even wizards could not resist.

Sirius ran wildly, without stopping, Dudley's cries like a red-hot iron, each one burning his mind.

He didn't know how long he ran until he came to a small river, saw Dumbledore and Voldemort, and saw the surroundings like an earthquake and a tornado.

He turned into a man, completely ignoring Voldemort, just looking at Dumbledore and not saying a word.

Kodley's cry seemed to say everything.

Sirius saw Dumbledore close his eyes and open them again, as if burning with rage, brandishing his wand and using one magical magic after another, forcing Voldemort to retreat again and again.

Voldemort fled, turned into a cloud of black smoke, and left with an arrogant laugh, smug as the final victor.

"Sirius, where do you meet?" Dumbledore looked a few years older, and his voice carried the weariness that Sirius had never heard before.

"St. Mungo," Sirius said dryly.

"Don't worry, let's go over there first" Dumbledore raised his hand slightly, and Dudley immediately fell into a deep sleep, but even the effect of the spell could not suppress the fear in Dudley's heart.

He was still sobbing slightly, Penny and Dudley's bodies were slowly descending, the soft ground was rising, and the remaining roots were rapidly budding and growing, bending their heads out in the blink of an eye.

Penny and Dudley were already lying on their soft rattan cots, and outside was the treehouse where the trees grew on their own, flashes of magic spells swirling around the treehouse.

Dumbledore stretched out his arm and placed it on Sirius's shoulder, and with a crackling sound, the two men disappeared in place.

By the time he appeared, Sirius found himself in the church again, the gap.

The chapel was silent at the moment, as if the clamor of the previous battle had nothing to do with it, the blood on the ground had not yet dried up, the dead priest still hanging upside down from the cross, the sun shining through the stained-glass windows on his godless eyes, glowing with gray and dim colors.

The chapel was in tatters, as if it had just been bombarded, and the Death Eaters had all run away, and even Voldemort, who was not very clear-headed, knew that Dumbledore was likely to chase after him.

So he hurried back and took his servants with him, leaving behind only a mess.

Dumbledore came to the gap, Vernon's body was covered in dust, and his originally ruddy fat face was covered with footprints.

Sirius, who was originally wooden, suddenly erupted:

"Why didn't you come to his rescue? You can save him, as long as you come, no one will die! ”

Dumbledore lowered his eyes, quiet as a sculpture, just listening to Sirius' roar.

Sirius reached out and covered his face, and in a soft voice, murmured:

"I wanted to take them away, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't. He finally asked me to leave with his wife and children."

Sirius seemed to be speaking to Dumbledore, and to himself.

"I'm really doing my best to phantasm, I don't know why the magic doesn't work."

He knew he was making trouble unreasonably, and Dumbledore was facing Voldemort, not a small character to be dismissed.

Dumbledore dragged Voldemort, to put it another way, why wasn't Voldemort dragging Dumbledore?

"It's not your fault, you don't have to blame yourself, Sirius." Dumbledore shook his head slightly, he reached out his hand, and the whole church seemed to turn back time, and the broken things on the ground flew in the air, jumping to where they were.

In the blink of an eye, the crumbling church was restored to its original state, and after the remaining blood was swept away, the church was as if nothing had happened.

It stood quietly, but it lost the priest who always diligently cleaned himself up, and always had a gentle smile on his face.

Dumbledore placed Vernon in a coffin turned from a plank, and he stared at Vernon Dursley, who was scarred but not a single wound behind him.

A silent sigh was made.

"Let's go."

Vernon is dead.

When Zhang Xiao got the news, she only felt as if her heart had been pinched hard, which was an indescribable feeling.

This is the first time I have experienced the departure of a more familiar character from the original book.

The Dursley's evaluation in the previous life was not good, and Zhang Xiao still remembers that when she first watched Harry Potter, she hated the Dursleys and her family.

I wish there was someone to sanction the Dursleys, the vitriolic aunt, the rude and violent uncle, and the grandiose cousin.

Especially Zhang Xiao also lived at her aunt's house when she was a child in her last life, although the situation was much better than Harry's, but the sense of substitution was incomparable.

But as he grew up, his views of the Dursleys became more and more complicated, and he seemed to be less annoying, but he still thought that he was definitely not a good person.

Why do I feel sad about the departure of such a character?

Was it because he resolutely drove into the church, even if there was a wizard he hated and feared the most, and he had no hesitation?

Or do you end up staying behind to protect your wife and children?

Zhang Xiao sat on the bench at St. Mungo's, lowered her head, and closed her eyes.

I. I don't know.

The sky seemed to be smeared with a faint layer of gray, and a few dark clouds dotted the distant sky.

The rain was dripping, not heavy, with the cold of winter, and there was a kind of cold that penetrated the heart.

There weren't many people who came to see him off, Vernon wasn't a very popular guy, and the people who came just hurriedly put a bouquet of flowers on the table and left.

When their whispers reached Harry's ears through the dense rain, all that was left was the stumbling words.

"How did you die?"

"He was still yelling at me in the company last week."

I heard it was an accident."

"Ha, may he rest in peace."

Harry listened dumbly, and he looked at Penny, dressed in black, not far away.

Her face had fully recovered from the spell, but it was as if Penny had lost her soul, leaving only her shell, and if it weren't for the occasional glance at Dudley, there would still be a hint of light.

Harry even wondered if she would die just so suddenly.

I don't know what kind of psychology it is, maybe it's guilt, maybe it's sadness, Harry suddenly asked in a low voice:

"Penny. Auntie, you guys. I mean, Aunt Vernon and you, why do you hate me so much? ”

Yes, this was something Harry didn't understand, and he didn't even think that if he was a little nicer to him, he wouldn't hate the Privet Road Four who had to go back.

Or maybe he wanted to hear the reasons why the Vernons hated him, so that the heavy guilt in his heart that he was about to bear could not bear was lightened a little.

The rain rustled on the black umbrella and gathered together and dripped down the ridge of the rain.

There was silence all around, except for the funeral priest who was diligently babbling some old-fashioned, old-fashioned eulogy.

Just when Harry thought that Penny would not answer him, Penny's slightly hoarse voice said without emotion:

"Why do you hate you?

Maybe you should ask yourself."

Ask me? Harry turned his head in shock, his emerald green eyes flashing with confusion and bewilderment.

"I used to envy Lily so much that I even secretly wrote letters to Dumbledore, dreaming of becoming a wizard.

But I didn't know until I grew up that it was just an absurd, unrealistic dream.

My happiness is Vernon."

Petunia had no scruples about saying things that she would never have said before:

"I didn't know how dangerous a wizard can be until we decided to adopt you, do you know what you've done?"

Harry bit his lip and shook his head.

"Yes, of course you don't remember, because you were young, and Dudley used to love playing with you, until one time you got angry and told Dudley to use your innate magic again and again to lift him up and down."

Penny's voice began to tremble:

"Yes, you are a wizard, you are born extraordinary, even if you haven't gone to Hogwarts yet, but as soon as you start to get angry, you start to get angry, you will use magic to vent, even if you are only two years old, the damage caused to us is huge."

Harry could only feel himself shivering all over his body, as if the icy rain outside had pierced through the umbrella and poured straight into his neck, cold to his heart.

Petunia's words continued, and she looked at Harry with blank eyes, with a hint of sadness and mockery:

"Vernon was almost furious when he saw Dudley injured, he wanted to throw you out, but I stopped him, Vernon. Vernon was always so accommodating to me.

We'll just keep you far away, lest you have a nightmare and blow up your bedroom, which is adjoining upstairs! “

"I've blown up my bedroom?" Harry's voice was dry like a saw.

"Didn't you find out that many of the places where you lived later were bad? It's Vernon redecorating, and at the age of three, you suddenly call out to your mom and destroy your room. ”

Harry suddenly remembered the crumbling cabinets and ceiling in the room, and the creaking wooden floor, under which he had hidden food.

He knew he could do incredible things when he was angry or anxious.

After going to Hogwarts to attend school, I also know that this phenomenon is called magical bursts, and the more frequent and incredible it is, the greater the potential of wizards.

When a wizard's child exhibits super-destructive power and extremely frequent magical bursts.

His parents would even scream with excitement.

But the phenomenon that wizards are accustomed to, and even rejoice, falls on ordinary people, and it is a heavy mountain.

The two fell silent again, the rain grew heavier, and the pastor's eulogy seemed to be coming to an end.

Harry opened his mouth, and he could seem to hear the tremor in his voice:

"Then why did you adopt me when you knew it was dangerous?"

Penny looked at him, her out-of-focus eyes slowly reconverging, staring at his emerald green eyes, not moving.

She kept a straight face, her lips pursed into a straight line, and her voice finally had emotion again:

"On that night, not only did you lose your mother, but I also lost my own sister."

"Muggles are numerous, they are so varied, and even if they don't have magic, their intelligence is still immense.

Among the hundreds of millions of Muggles, there are always some people, special, special. ”

Dumbledore was rarely dressed in a black robe, stood under a tree, and whispered to Zhang Xiao beside him:

"They hate everything out of the ordinary, and they stubbornly believe in the world as they know it.

Yes, they are insulated from magic, and anything related to magic does not appear on them.

This is also the reason why Sirius could not take Vernon Apparition with them, and their resistance to magic was beyond imagination. ”

(Any potential wizard genes will not survive exposure to Uncle Vernon's DNA.) —J.K. Rowling)

Zhang Xiao suddenly asked, "Professor, why can't you keep Harry?" It's also safe to spend the summer at Hogwarts, right? ”

Dumbledore sighed:

"I'm sorry, Zhang, I can only answer you, no young wizard can stay at Hogwarts for the summer, yes, this is an absolute ban."

"Well, you won't tell me the reason anyway." Zhang Xiao shrugged her shoulders, felt for a bouquet of flowers, and walked to Vernon's tombstone to put it down.

Dudley sat pale in front of the tombstone, his black umbrella tossed aside, cold rain dripping down his hair, perhaps mixed with his tears.

It's cold, and it's even colder when the rain soaks your clothes.

Dalcan felt his heart colder.

Vernon's words seemed to echo in his ears:

If Dad is gone, don't be as headstrong as you used to be, don't be picky eaters, be like a real man."

Daddy Dudley's lips twitched weakly, but no sound came out.

He just stared blankly at the picture of Vernon on the tombstone.

Dudley pressed his face to it, closed his eyes, and whimpered in a low voice.

"I smell the stench of a wizard in this poor man, who died at the hands of a wizard?"

Dudley jerked his head up and turned his face to look at the owner of the voice, the priest presiding over the funeral.

It's just that he's dressed up completely differently at the moment.

The black priest's robe is embroidered with two reverse crosses that cross like swords.

The delicate leather boots had brass buckles, and Dudley saw a brown holster on the belt around his waist, and there was a very old-looking sustaining pistol.

Next to the pistol was a delicate silver crossbow.

The gray-haired priest looked at him, his eyes bright, and his delicately trimmed beard trembled:

"Kid. You are not alone, and there are many people in this world who are suffering from being hurt by this group of non-human beings just like you.

So. Do you want revenge? ”

(End of Volume III)

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1. Commuter Pass 2, Recommended Ticket

This is the appearance of the power of the church, and there will not be too many scenes, the main thing is to enrich the worldview.

(End of chapter)