Chapter 193: Reward of 100,000 Galleons
Harry Potter had a truly terrible summer holiday.
First, Ron called their house, and Uncle Vernon almost exploded with rage when he answered, leading to even stricter supervision. This forced Harry to do his homework late into the night, and the prolonged lack of sleep left him looking increasingly haggard.
His cousin Dudley mocked him, saying that with his current skinny, dark-eyed appearance, messy hair, and forehead scar, he was looking more and more like a crazy wizard.
Later, a letter from Ron mentioned that his whole family had gone on vacation to Egypt. The Daily Prophet reported the news, and in the photo, everyone looked so happy, even their sickly pet rat seemed much livelier. This made Harry feel even worse about his own situation.
Everyone has a breaking point, let alone a child.
When Aunt Marge came to visit and kept making sarcastic remarks about his ingratitude, calling him an ungrateful wretch, and even insulting his father, who was a vagrant in Muggle eyes, he finally snapped. He blew up the wine bottles and vases in the house and made Aunt Marge inflate into a giant balloon.
He swore he didn't mean to. He hadn't even pulled out his wand; the sheer anger and indignation in his heart had simply caused it all.
—The essence of magic is chaos. —It will obey the will of the self, and thus magic blossoms. —So sometimes we don't need to rigidly adhere to so-called spells, casting standards, and the like; instead, we should focus more on perceiving our own inner selves.
He didn't know why he thought of Professor Lockhart's teachings at such a moment, even though he was practically fuming.
Dragging his heavy suitcase, with Hedwig's cage tucked under his arm, he rushed out of the house like a madman.
The professor's past teachings kept flooding his mind.
The professor had looked at them so gently and said, "Children, this world has never had a standard of right and wrong that can be called truth, but for each of us, that standard has always been there. If you are willing to search your conscience, to question your own heart, you will find the standard of right and wrong right there."
"Only with a perception of right and wrong can you better construct your own inner world, and only then will your own will truly be expressed."
Harry stood on the empty street for a long time, panting. Finally, he roared, aggrieved, indignant, and hysterical, then turned and rushed back home.
"You bastard, get back here! Look what you've done! You freaks, you turned my precious son into a pig with a tail before, and he had to stay in the hospital for a whole month, enduring terrible surgery and pain!" Uncle Vernon was still yelling furiously from inside the house. "Harry Potter! You…"
Bang!
The door was kicked open, and Harry, wand tightly gripped, stared at Uncle Vernon with bloodshot eyes.
It was an anger Uncle Vernon had never seen, not a child's anger, but a terrifying rage that seemed to permeate the air. This made all three of them shut their mouths in fear.
"I am not a bastard!" Harry looked at them coldly.
Uncle Vernon's fat face turned crimson. He opened his mouth but said nothing.
The air seemed to freeze.
Fortunately, Aunt Marge's terrified scream finally broke them out of the frozen atmosphere. She was like a huge, round balloon, constantly hitting the ceiling and floating, about to fly out the open window.
"Quick…" Uncle Vernon anxiously shouted.
Before he could finish, there was a violent crash, and the window slammed shut, keeping Aunt Marge inside the house.
He quickly turned around and saw that Harry had raised his hand, not even gripping his wand, and controlled everything.
This frightened him somewhat. He tried his best to maintain a parent's dignity, but a wave of terror truly surged from the bottom of his heart. The Harry Potter before him seemed to have become a stranger in an instant.
"Fix it now!"
Uncle Vernon spoke, not realizing his voice had become weak, completely lacking any authority.
Harry held his wand without speaking, panting heavily. After a long moment, he finally replied, "I don't know how I did that just now. I was too angry. If I want to save her now, I have to use my wand."
Uncle Vernon quickly yelled, "Then use your damned stick!"
"But that will get me expelled!" Harry looked at him with bloodshot eyes. "I don't know where I'll go if I'm expelled from Hogwarts. Here? This place doesn't welcome me at all!"
Uncle Vernon opened his mouth, only able to maintain a furious glare at Harry. He himself didn't know what he was feeling at that moment; his emotions were a mixed bag.
Aunt Petunia covered her face and began to cry, though it was unclear what she was crying about.
"Why wouldn't you be welcome!" Uncle Vernon's attitude finally softened. He mumbled, "You were just a baby when you were left at our doorstep. Do you know how hard it was for your aunt and me to raise a baby? We had never raised a child before, we had no idea what to do. I went everywhere looking for suitable baby formula and clothes…"
This was something Harry had never heard before. He stared blankly at the middle-aged man with a complex expression, at his crying aunt, at his bewildered cousin, and for a moment, his heart was filled with a mix of emotions.
He had never felt so conflicted. He had always been so pure: love was love, hate was hate, like was like, dislike was dislike.
He gripped his wand tightly, took a sudden step forward, interrupting Uncle Vernon's words. He didn't know why he did this; perhaps he was afraid to hear those words, which made him uncomfortable.
He cast a very imprecise Counter-Charm on Aunt Marge. He didn't know if the magic would work, but a belief in his heart told him—yes, this is how to cast it.
And so, Aunt Marge slowly deflated like a leaky balloon, floating down, finally returning to her original form and collapsing unconscious in the chair.
Harry pondered the complex situation before him, wondering how Professor Lockhart would handle it, then strode forward, meticulously casting a Memory Charm.
"What are you doing?" Uncle Vernon asked nervously. This was his own sister, his closest blood relative.
"Making her forget tonight's events!"
Harry turned and looked at them. "Don't speak. I'm not very good at this."
The Memory Charm was an extremely complex and advanced spell; it wasn't easy to cast successfully. Even though Professor Lockhart had taught the N.E.W.T. advanced class and allowed members of their Duelling Club to audit, explaining it in simple terms over several lessons, very few could truly cast it well.
Fortunately, Harry successfully cast the spell.
He then cast spells on the crooked crystal chandelier, the vase, the wine bottles, the overturned table, and the scattered plates and food. "Reparo!"
Everything seemed to rewind in time. The table automatically floated back into place, the tablecloth became neat again, and the plates of delicious-looking dishes, the half-empty wine bottles, the vase, and the broken flowers with fallen petals all returned to their original state.
This was magic Harry had never imagined he could successfully cast.
But he had done it.
With an extremely complex mix of emotions, not entirely focused, his mind churning with too many feelings and thoughts, he had still managed to cast it successfully.
He looked deeply at Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, and Dudley, then picked up his suitcase and Hedwig's cage again and walked out.
"Where are you going?" Uncle Vernon shouted.
Harry stopped and looked back at him.
"I mean… look…" Uncle Vernon seemed afraid to meet his eyes, merely mumbling, "Everything's back to normal, isn't it? You can actually stay…"
Harry smiled. He didn't know what his expression looked like at that moment, but he smiled, looking at Uncle Vernon with full sarcasm. "I just said I can't cast spells outside of school, but I did. Am I supposed to stay here and wait for the Ministry of Magic Aurors to arrest me?"
He didn't want to have his wand snapped and be locked up in Azkaban. He still had things to do; he wanted revenge, he wanted to deal with the Dark Lord Voldemort!
Even if it meant becoming a fugitive.
Yes, Professor Lockhart was right; sometimes there really was no standard for right and wrong. He had violated the rule against underage wizards casting spells outside school, but he had no intention of accepting punishment. He still firmly believed that what he did was right.
He walked away without looking back.
The night wind howled through the street, carrying away the sorrow from his aunt's house, far, far away.
Harry Potter was a child.
At the end of his second year, he was only 13.
He should have been bewildered, terrified, and helpless, but he wasn't at all.
He remembered Professor Lockhart's teachings.
—Harry, you should be more like a wizard. Break free from the habits of Muggle life and experience a life with magic. —Only if you embrace magic will magic embrace you. You should have good talent, but none of it has been properly utilized.
So, on this night, Harry took out one of the Deathly Hallows left by his father, the Invisibility Cloak, and draped it over himself. This was a cloak that could even evade Death itself, let alone the threats from Voldemort or his minions.
He hung his suitcase and birdcage on his broomstick, a Firebolt, gifted by Professor Lockhart during an adventurous journey, called it compensation.
This was the best-performing broomstick of its era, capable of accelerating to 150 miles per hour within ten seconds, enough to take him anywhere he wanted to go.
Then he released Hedwig the owl, asking her to find his good friend Ron. He didn't want to cause any trouble for Ron's family, but he really needed Ron's dad, a Ministry of Magic official, to help him find out what judgment the Ministry had made regarding his spellcasting in front of Muggles.
Thus, a truly crazy adventure began.
Setting sail from Privet Drive, Surrey, England, flying all the way to Egypt, crossing four or five countries, traversing two oceans, a long and arduous journey.
Harry had never dared to do such a thing before.
Yes, at most, he would sit on the street outside his house, bewildered, waiting for a possible accident, and then bravely face it.
However, he was now a step braver.
In Professor Lockhart's words, he didn't need to wait for the call to adventure; he could actively initiate it.
This journey was not without danger, but he had a powerful Invisibility Cloak. Even if he encountered powerful wizards, he could hide his presence and remain undetected. Secretly following the trails of some wizards, he bought food in a wizarding shopping street in a certain wizarding nation and finally arrived in Egypt without incident.
And now, he needed to figure out where Ron and his family were.
This was the challenge of his adventure. He had to take off his Invisibility Cloak so he could communicate and ask others for information.
He first set his sights on a wizarding shop selling travel supplies, because he saw the Daily Prophet in the shop window.
Perhaps this newspaper would also publish news about the Weasley family's trip, and then he would know where they were.
Or perhaps…
Well, although he was somewhat afraid to think about it, perhaps the Daily Prophet would report on the terrible things the so-called 'Boy Who Lived' had done during the holidays, clearly stating the Ministry of Magic's judgment, and then he wouldn't have to bother the Weasley family.
He stood by the shop door, hesitating for a moment, confirming that no one was passing by on the street. Only then did he suddenly pull off his Invisibility Cloak, drape it over his broomstick nearby, and quietly reached out a hand to grasp the broomstick, deciding to fly into the sky at the slightest sign of trouble.
"Excuse me…" He took a step towards the door, poking his head in to ask the shopkeeper, who was dozing under a parasol.
"Oh! Merlin's pink diapers!" the shopkeeper exclaimed, "Where did you come from!"
"I…" Before Harry could speak, a loud crack suddenly erupted not far from him.
It was Apparition!
He was very familiar with it!
Because Professor Lockhart had required every student to carefully memorize the sound associated with this magic.
However, before he could react, a series of loud cracks boomed around him, and he turned his head in horror to see figures suddenly appearing on the street, surrounding him completely.
"Oh!" the shopkeeper shrieked in terror, his eyes rolling back as he fainted in his lounge chair, then quietly peeled open his eyelids a tiny bit, trying to see what was happening.
Then he fell asleep, sleeping very peacefully.
"Harrrry… Pottter!" Snape lowered his wand, scrutinizing Harry. "Look at our Saviour, bringing us so many surprises again."
Harry felt a sudden relief when he heard that voice. He didn't know why he relaxed, even though he had always hated Snape.
He tried his best to look at the people around him. Some he didn't recognize, but some were so familiar.
Ron's father and mother, Professor McGonagall, Hagrid…
And standing beside him, looking down at him…
"Professor Dumbledore!" Harry exclaimed, shrinking his head under the other's sharp gaze.
"It seems you've been putting your father's cloak to good use," Dumbledore said with a smile. "How was your summer journey?"
It was like casual conversation, exceptionally kind. Of course, Harry didn't rule out that it might be sarcasm; he didn't know. He merely forced a not-too-awkward smile and said, "It was… not bad."
"Is that so?"
Snape sneered from the side, suddenly waving his wand at a nearby corner. "Petrificus Totalus!"
Bang!
A figure fell to the ground, their Invisibility Cloak slipping off, staring wide-eyed at everyone.
Snape slowly walked forward, his tone growing more acrid. "It seems our Saviour doesn't know the dangers of the world, always thinking adventure is just child's play."
Alright.
Harry retracted his previous thought.
Snape was just annoying. He shouldn't have felt even a shred of goodwill towards him just now!
But who was this person hiding in the corner with an Invisibility Cloak?
Everyone soon had their answer.
After Snape cast a spell that enveloped the person's eyes in pink smoke, the person shouted, "Damn Gilderoy Lockhart, he dared to write about the Dark Lord like that! Someone's offering a reward of 100,000 Galleons for his life! They want him dead!!!"
"Ha!" Snape chuckled. Just as Harry had guessed, he was evil. And Professor Lockhart even considered Snape a good friend; he was still laughing!
A reward of 100,000 Galleons!
Harry couldn't even imagine how much wealth that was, but he knew many people would be tempted. At least, from his interactions with classmates, he knew many families were quite struggling and needed such a sum of Galleons.
He was worried sick, yet Snape was still laughing. Lockhart was clearly deceived by Snape into thinking he was a friend!
"You don't look like someone who's trying to trouble Gilderoy, hiding in a corner like this," Snape mocked the person. "What, you tracked Lockhart all the way here?"
The person yelled, "Of course not! No one can find where that hateful fellow went!"
"We're watching every bookstore, seeing who's buying that damned Lockhart's books. Maybe this information can also fetch a price! Many pure-blood families are willing to pay, to show loyalty to the Dark Lord…"
(End of Chapter)
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