[HPDH] Glass color

Harry pretended he was holding the glass of Polyjuice Potion that had been made even worse by the addition of hair—hissing, bubbling, tanky khaki.

[He pinches his nose and swallows the soup in two gulps.It tasted like overcooked cabbage.Immediately, his insides began to churn, as if what he had just swallowed were some live snakes—he bent over, wondering if he would fall ill—and suddenly, a burning sensation rushed from his stomach Spread throughout the body, reaching fingers and toes.

Then there was a horrible melting feeling, as if his skin was bubbling like hot wax, and it made him prostrate on the ground panting; he watched as his hands began to grow, fingers thickened, the nails widened, and the knuckles bulged out like bolts.His shoulders began to stretch, causing him excruciating pain; pinpricks in his forehead told him hair was creeping toward his eyebrows; his robes burst as his chest expanded, as if The bucket broke the iron hoop; his foot was cramped in a shoe that was four sizes too small, and it was painful.

Things come suddenly and go quickly.All of a sudden, everything stopped.

Harry lay face down on the cold brick floor, listening to Myrtle gurgling morosely in the far toilet.He took off his shoes with difficulty and stood up.That said, this is what it's like to be Gower.With large trembling hands he took off his old robe - which now hung a foot above his ankle - put on his change of clothes and put on Goyle's boat shoes.

He reached out to brush the hair that blocked his eyes, and what he touched was short hairs that were as thick as steel wires, and the low hairline extended to his forehead.That's when he realized that it was his glasses that were blurring his vision, since Goyle apparently didn't need them.

So he took off his glasses, and shouted, "Are you two all right?" Gore's low, hoarse voice came out of his mouth. ]

Then, Harry laughed even more, feeling like a kid who found a toy and threw himself into the imitation.

Pretending to be Goyle—ignoring the suitcase in his hand—he awkwardly left the bathroom and walked down the maze of corridors, deeper and deeper under the school grounds.As he walked to the Slytherin common room in his memory, he recalled what he had done at that time in his mind.

Yes, yes, when the three of them unanimously suspected that Malfoy's platinum peacock was the heir of Slytherin, he released the monster in the Chamber of Secrets-the basilisk.

Thinking about it now, Harry couldn't help laughing at his whimsy, his hostility towards Malfoy was always somewhat unreasonable.

Malfoy again?Harry frowned, he couldn't remember exactly how many times today he recalled the boy who always had trouble with him.But the only thing he can be sure of is that the number of times must be more than the sum of the times he has recalled Malfoy over the years, much more, he is sure.It was all the fault of that damned dream!

Harry stopped beside an empty, damp stone wall.

["What's the new password?"]

That's how Harry seemed to hear Malfoy talking to him, in that usual drawn-out, aristocratically haughty tone, in a casual, bossy manner, with a perpetually condescending look on his pale face.

Then Harry? Mr. Wandering? Potter regrettably found that his trip down memory lane could only come to an end, because he didn't have the password to the Slytherin common room either.But Harry suddenly felt a cat's tickle in his heart, indescribable, uh, at a loss.

Then, Harry is wearing the glasses he bought with his first month's salary (the glasses are still dirty, I have to say, but no one will point it out, because the glasses are like It was the scar on Harry's forehead that became the symbol of "Savior"), and helped Harry see clearly that in an inconspicuous corner at the corner of the stone wall, there was carved a small stone-colored snake that was almost integrated with the wall , it was spitting a red core at Harry.

Suddenly Harry had a hunch, an idea that he thought should work.Why not try it?he asked himself.

{Open. }Harry made a low hiss at the little snake.

The little snake blinked at Harry, and Harry thought he must be dazzled, because snakes should have no eyelids.Then, a stone door hidden in the stone wall opened slowly to Harry.For the first time, Harry was sincerely grateful that he was a Parseltongue, and it was clear that his ability didn't disappear with Voldemort's death.

The Slytherin common room was exactly as Harry remembered it, and Harry thought maybe it hadn't changed at all.It was a long, narrow, low basement, the walls and ceiling were made of rough stone, and round, glowing green lamps hung from the ceiling on chains.In front of Harry was a beautifully carved fireplace, with a crackling fire under the stage all year round, surrounded by a few neatly carved chairs.

——The description about the lounge is adapted from Chapter 12 of "Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets"

Harry put the luggage next to him, and he sat on an empty chair away from the fire. Malfoy's delicate and somewhat exaggerated face became clear again, and his contemptuous tone of voice changed. be fresh.

Feeling a little tired, Harry bent down, buried his head in his arms, and took a deep breath.

Time seemed to freeze at that moment. In the dark lounge, only Harry curled up and hugged himself.He buried his head lower, his body was trembling, he didn't even understand whether he was normal or not in this state, he felt like his head was about to explode, because of those chaotic thoughts, and how he couldn't grab it A fleeting moment of chaotic emotion.He felt as if he had missed something, a very important relationship in his student days.

Then Harry fell asleep in that position - uncomfortable as it was - like a baby, insecure.

In a daze, Harry felt that he was awake, but he felt that he was not fully awake yet.His body was already stiff, and the tingling feeling was unscrupulously abusing his painful nerves.He was a little confused, his eyes were out of focus, and then he slowly remembered that he seemed to be awakened by the sound of a falling object, right by the fireplace.

Then Harry raised his head, trying to see something that suddenly appeared by the fireplace.

It was something like an exercise book or a thin textbook, and Harry was led by his curiosity to stagger toward that book.Oh, damn the leg, he cursed, every step he took was like a needle prick, and he began to regret falling asleep like that, he really couldn't bear the tingling pain.

Harry bent down to pick up the book as best he could, and unfortunately he was a little top-heavy, so he fell over and felt like he was about to feed himself into the roaring fire in the fireplace.

Harry exhaled, shook his head helplessly, and patted his cheek, trying to wake himself up.

Afterwards, Harry began to look at the book that he finally held in his hand. The dim light made Harry frowned again, and then he forgot about his luggage, and walked casually to the nearest room. The boy's dormitory, which looked very gorgeous, used Parseltongue again to make the door open to him silently.

Fortunately, there was enough sunlight in that door, and the glass of the window seemed to have been specially treated, and Harry could see through the glass a part of the Hogwarts playground that he should not be able to see - the Quidditch pitch.

Harry was somewhat surprised, it seemed that the former or current owner of this dormitory was obsessed with Quidditch.

Of course, Harry didn't forget his original purpose of coming here - to see clearly the notebook he picked up.Harry looked carefully at the not-so-thin notebook, and he had now determined the purpose of the notebook—to keep a diary.The whole body of the diary is glass-colored, that strange color between blue, purple and dark gray.But Harry had to admit, that diary was really pretty.

At the inconspicuous corner of the lower right corner of the diary, there is a silvery-white ink blot in a fancy ancient style, writing a name that can barely be read under the reflection of the sun, it is a name that Harry is not familiar with .

He belonged to a nobleman, Harry deduced, because he'd found the diary in the Slytherin common room, and also because it looked expensive to make.It might be able to cover Harry's three months' salary, or more, if you count the long history that the diary brings to people, he imagined so mockingly.

The author has something to say: If things go on like this, it’s hard for a certain person to believe that he will write a short story... slamming on the ground, rolling >

So, speed up, speed up =-=

Neville said: Want to bookmark, want to comment, don't give?Let my grandma clean you up!