,!

Harry lifted the birdcage from the table to the floor to make room. He sat down on the chair in front of the table, lost in thought.

Harry knew that his scars had some magical abilities, and had an inexplicable connection with Voldemort. Whenever Voldemort appeared by his side, his scars would detect him as sharply as a detector, and then call the police .

The warning signal is the sting.

That's why Harry was so disturbed.

Harry sat at the table, listening quietly to the sounds outside. If Voldemort was by his side, would he have come to Privet Drive? Could he be standing in a corner of the street and watching him? Harry was a little upset, this unknown and confused made him He is irritable. For a brief moment, he felt Voldemort standing behind him, grinning at him.

But he grabbed his wand and turned around abruptly, and there was still only the messy bed behind him. There were some sounds outside the window, but it was just someone's dog barking at night in the distance.

As for the Dursleys, they are all immersed in dreamland at this moment!

Harry kind of envied them, silly, goofy, completely untroubled--those Muggle intrigues weren't really an annoyance.

Harry sighed, he didn't know what to do even though the scar was hurting, he didn't even know who to turn to! The Dursleys? Come on, Muggles don't know anything about magical things , even if they are willing to help—the probability is lower than winning the lottery—they can only send themselves to the hospital and make an appointment with a private doctor.

His eyes fell on an open book, which was a gift from his good friend Ron, called "Flying with the Artillery Team". On the open pages, boys in orange and red jerseys were throwing Quaffles at each other. Ron is a die-hard fan of this team. Even though this team has been in decline for nearly a hundred years, he has always supported it.

This book reminded Harry of his best friend Ron Weasley. If he wrote to him, what would he say? The voice of Ron Weasley seemed to appear in his mind: your The scar hurts? But You-Know-Who is now........ I mean. I don't know, he's coming to kill you? Could it be? I don't know, let me ask Dad, but Don't be too sad, maybe the curse scar will always have some side effects, after all, it is the scar left by the mysterious man's killing curse.

Ron's freckled face seemed to float before Harry. Ron's father, Mr. Weasley, worked for the Ministry of Magic, but Harry felt that he was of little help in such matters, and might throw the Weasleys into a panic.

Ron's twin brothers would surely know about it, too, and that would be trouble! If it turned out that the scar had nothing to do with Voldemort, Harry felt sure he would be a source of joy for both of them.

Another reason Harry didn't want to discuss scars with Ron was that he was going to live with the Weasleys for a while. The Weasleys were Harry's favorite family in the world, and being able to live with them would be the happiest thing for him, and he didn't want to ruin this beautiful day because of a stupid scar. Come to think of it, when I was living at the Weasleys' house, everyone nervously asked him about his scars, what a disappointment it was!

Who else could I write to tell what happened to me? The first name that popped up in his mind was Professor Dumbledore. In fact, if it weren't for the book "Flying with the Cannon", Dumbledore should be the first person he thought of asking for help.

But Harry had no idea where Dumbledore had been on vacation. Harry imagined Dumbledore wearing a pointed wizard hat, wearing a gray robe, and holding a cane, trekking hard in the Alps. Of course, it doesn't matter whether he knows Dumbledore's location, Harry believes that his owl Hedwig will be able to find him.

But how should I write this letter?

[Dear Professor Dumbledore, sorry to bother you, but my scar hurts this morning]

These things just floated in Harry's mind and were erased by him.

Harry scratched his head, his hair was a little messy again. His hair has always been so unruly, maybe only magic shampoo can save Harry's hair. But looking at his father's picture, Harry felt that magic could not solve his hair problem.

Harry knew that what he really needed was someone who could exist in the place of his parents, a grown wizard who couldn't ask too many silly questions himself.

Originally, there was an excellent choice, but Sirius told himself not to write to him before the holiday. Who else?

A handsome face appeared in his mind.

Tom Yoddle!

Why not ask Tom: what about yordles?

Although he was the same age as himself, Harry vaguely felt that this person surpassed him by a lot in terms of magical attainments, and he might have some unique insights.

Harry immediately took a piece of parchment, filled the quill with ink, and leaned over the desk to write quickly.

At this point, what is this Amazing Tom: Mr. Yoddle doing?

He didn't sleep either, but lay down at the desk and drew sketches. The patterns he draws are extremely complex and dazzling, and people who don't know alchemy may even feel dizzy at first glance.

This is a magic weapon that Tom plans to refine recently~lightnovelpub.net~ He thinks that if this thing is made, it can at least reach the level of four stars, and even reach the level of five stars.

The Prophet of Spring River Plumbing Duck, as a participant in Dumbledore's plan, he knew that the Dark Lord Tom Riddle would make a comeback this year. Tom believed in Dumbledore, but he still wanted to give himself some cards.

It is unwise to fight against Voldemort's spell level, so he can use appropriate tricks—whether he can use tools or not is the biggest difference between humans and monkeys. The ability to use magic props is the biggest difference between an alchemist and an ordinary wizard.

For Voldemort, Tom took out all the two hundred Galleons he earned from Dawlish to buy magic silver and other alchemy materials.

After starting to build large magic props, Tom realized that alchemy is really expensive! His two hundred Galleons disappeared like a waste, which made him a little regretful that he couldn’t get along with The Ministry of Magic negotiated that deal. That stupid woman is too greedy! Ten Galleons for a piece of anti-spell glove, I can only earn some hard money, no profit at all

Tom also went to Mr. Ollivander, and had the audacity to get his magic silver staff from him. His original plan was to melt down the staff to create other magical props. Recently, though, he's had a whole new idea.

Charlie Cannon, see the appendix for a brief introduction