94 Diagon Alley

    The secret must have thought that the real Harry would be with the toughest and most experienced Auror. He went after Mad-Eye first, and when the Death Eaters got the news, he turned around and went after Kingsley..."

    "He's in Knockturn Alley," Gwen hiccupped, crying and laughing, out of breath, "that's not a place where a serious wizard would go— "

    "Yeah," Fleur said unceremoniously, "either he missed something, or someone else must have been careless. Someone accidentally revealed the date to outsiders, so that Explain that they only know the date but not the whole plan."

    She silently stared at everyone to see if anyone came out to refute her, her beautiful face was still covered with tears. No one speaks. Only the hiccup behind Hagrid's bandanna broke the silence. Harry looked at Hagrid who had risked his life to save him just now—Hagrid, whom he loved and trusted, was once tricked into leaking important information to Voldemort in exchange for a dragon egg...

    "No," Harry exclaimed, and everyone looked at him in surprise. Firewhiskey seemed to amplify his voice. "I mean . "We have to trust each other. I trust you all, and I don't think anyone in this room would betray me to Voldemort."

    There was another silence after he finished. Everyone looked at him. Harry felt a little hot again. To find something to do, he took another sip of fire whisky.

    "Well said, Harry," Fred said unexpectedly.

    "Yes, well said." George glanced at Fred, the corners of Fred's mouth twitching.

    Gwen was 100% sure that the twins were dealing with Harry and, furthermore, sarcasm the overly kind boy.

    Lupin looked at Harry with a strange expression on his face, almost pity.

    "You think I'm a fool?" Harry asked.

    "No, you really look like James," Lupin said. "He thinks distrusting friends is the most shameful thing."

    Harry knew what Lupin was referring to. Father was betrayed by his friend Peter Pettigrew. Harry felt angry and annoyed. He wanted to retort, but Lupin had turned around, put the cup on a table against the wall, and discussed with Cedric and Bill how to strengthen the Burrow's defenses.

    "I can't stay here," Harry said.

    A dozen pairs of amazed eyes stared at him.

    "Don't be silly, Harry," said Mrs. Weasley, "what are you talking about?"

    "I can't stay here." He rubbed his forehead. The tingling is there again, and it hasn't been so painful in over a year. "I'm here, you're all in danger, I don't want to—"

    "Don't say such nonsense!" said Mrs. Weasley. "The most important thing tonight is to transfer you safely here, thank goodness we succeeded. Fleur agreed not in France, but in Get married here, we have everything arranged, everyone can stay and take care of you—"

    She doesn't understand. Harry felt even more uncomfortable listening to her.

    "If Voldemort finds me here—"

    "But how did he find out?" asked Mrs. Weasley.

    "You're probably in a dozen places now, Harry," said Mr. Weasley. "He can't possibly know which safe house you're hiding in."

    "I'm not worried about myself!" Harry said.

    "We know," Mr. Weasley whispered, "but if you leave, our efforts tonight will be meaningless."

    "You're not going anywhere," grumbled Hagrid gruffly, "Gosh, Harry, we've worked so hard to get you here, are you still going?"

    "Yeah, what about my hapless ear?" said George, propping himself up from the cushion, Gwen hurriedly propped him up on his own, and used it with George and Fred. The eyes pressed Harry, expecting him to drop his stupid thoughts.

    "I know—"

    "Mad-Eye wouldn't want to—" Cedric spoke for the comatose old Auror.

    "I know!" Harry yelled.

    He felt that everyone was besieging and persecuting him. Don't they think he doesn't know what they've done for him? Don't they understand that it is precisely because of this that he intends to leave now, lest they suffer more misfortune for him? There was a long, embarrassing silence, his scar still tingling and throbbing. Finally Mrs Weasley broke the silence.

    "Where's Hedwig, Harry?" she asked softly. "We can let him stay with the piglet and feed him something to eat."

    Harry's internal organs clenched like fists. He couldn't tell her the truth. To avoid answering, he drank the last of his firewhiskey.

    "Harry, let them see, you survived again," said Hagrid, "and escaped his clutches. He was on top of you, and you beat him back. !"

    "It's not me," Harry said flatly. "It's my wand. My wand takes action on its own."

    Gwen frowned, she thought Garrick had told Voldemort about the twin cores—after all, it had been a full year since he was taken away. But even a pair of wands can't leave the wizard and cast spells automatically.

    After a moment, Hermione said tactfully, "But that's impossible, Harry. You're saying you've done magic unconsciously, and you've reacted instinctively."

    "No," said Harry, "the motorcycle was falling, and I had no idea where Voldemort was, but my wand went round in my hand and aimed at him, Shoot a spell at him, I don't even know what it is. I've never made a golden flame before."

    "In times of urgency," said Mr. Weasley, "a man often performs magic he never dreamed of. Little children who are not trained often find out—"

    "It's not like that," Harry said through gritted teeth. The scar was burning hot, and he felt angry and frustrated, and he didn't want them all to imagine that he had the strength to fight Voldemort.

    No one said a word. Harry knew they didn't believe him. Thinking about it now, he really had never heard of a wand that could do magic on its own, and Gwen must have been the first to think he was talking nonsense.

    The scar was burning with pain. He used all his strength to refrain from making a loud noise. He muttered that he wanted some fresh air, then put down the glass and left the room.

    As he passed through the backyard, a huge Thestral looked up at him, flapped his bat-like wings a few times, and then buried himself in grazing again. Harry stopped at the door leading to the garden, looked at the wild plants, rubbed his forehead with sharp pains, and thought of Dumbledore.

    He knew Dumbledore would believe him. Dumbledore must have understood that Harry's wand acted on its own, and understood why, because Dumbledore always knew the answer. He was well versed in wands and had explained to Harry the peculiar connection that existed between Harry's wand and Voldemort's...but Dumbledore, like his parents, like his poor owl, went to a place that Harry could never relate to. where they talk. He felt a burning sensation in his throat, but it had nothing to do with Firewhiskey...

    At this point, the pain of the scar suddenly peaked. He grabbed his forehead, closed his eyes, and a voice screamed in his head:

    "You told me, just use someone else's wand and the problem is solved!"

    A thin, gaunt old man in ragged clothes lay on the stone floor and let out a terrible, long scream of unbearable pain. …

    "No! No! I beg you, I beg you..."

    "How dare you deceive Lord Voldemort, Ollivander!"

    "I didn't...I swear I didn't..."

    "You want to help Potter, you want to help Potter escape from me!"

    "I swear I didn't...I thought a wand would work..."

    "Then explain it. Lucius' wand is destroyed!"

    "I don't understand...that connection...exists only...between your two wands..."

    "Lie!"

    "Please...please..."

    Harry saw the white hand raise his wand, felt Voldemort's rage, and saw the frail old man wriggling in pain—

    "Harry?"

    Everything suddenly disappeared again. Harry stood shivering in the dark, clutching the garden door with both hands, his heart beating wildly. The scar still hurts. It took a moment for him to realize that Ron and Hermione were by his side.

    "Harry, go back to the house," Hermione whispered. "You're not still thinking about leaving, are you?"

    "Yeah, you've got to stay, man," said Ron, slamming Harry's back with his fist.

    "Are you all right?" Hermione leaned closer and looked at Harry's face, "You look so scary!"

    "It's all right," Harry said in a shaky voice, "I probably look better than Ollivander's..."

    He told them exactly what he had just seen, Ron looked terrified, and Hermione was completely terrified.

    But this should stop! Your scar - it shouldn't be like this anymore! You must never let that connection reconnect - Dumbledore wants you to shut your brain off! "

    Seeing Harry didn't answer, Hermione grabbed his arm.

    "Harry, he has taken over the Ministry of Magic, the newspapers and half of the wizarding world! Don't let him take over your brain!"

    "I think differently,"