Harry's Precognitive Dream

You know what, this direction did indeed attract Ron's attention.

"I think this is a great idea," Ron agreed, praising it. "At least it seems like a viable idea. I'm certainly intrigued—of course, I think besides this necessary hype..."

Other gimmicks could also be arranged, such as Hermione should take a stage name.

"Stage name?" Hermione pondered the word.

"It's a fake name," Ron said. "Look, for example, my name on the Wizzchat —Ronaldthe..."

pepper, Ronald, you can also choose a similar one, such as --"

"Hermione Khan?" Hermione suddenly came up with a completely nonsensical name.

"Why Khan?" Luna asked curiously.

"Because I was quite interested in the steppe people for a while," Hermione answered truthfully. "Besides, the leader of the centaurs seems to be called Khan, I even confirmed this with Blenze."

"That's not quite right," Luna's ethereal voice offered a suggestion, "Perhaps you could name her 'Hermione Khan the younger,' Hermione Khan the younger?"

"Great idea." Hermione nodded quickly. "Let's call him that— Hermione Khan the younger. I love the name. As for the portrait, Jack will do."

Jack, the garlic sprout chicken that was teasing the cat with its mouth not far away, suddenly cackled.

"Next, we need to finalize the details, such as your opening remarks and the content of your presentation—I think it should be a bit humorous and witty, what do you think?" Ron offered his advice again.

Hermione nodded, accepting Ron's suggestion.

"Alright, let me write the draft first," she said. "After I finish writing it, I'll read it to you all—if you all find it uninteresting, then I'm afraid there really isn't much of a future for me—"

The group exchanged glances and shrugged in unison.

After Hermione sat down, Luna also left the Gryffindor Common Room, though Neville was somewhat reluctant to see her go.

Ron sat down next to Harry and began studying. He saw the spell "Sectumsempra" again.

They sat by the fireplace in the Common Room; those still awake were all sixth graders, and they were quite excited today.

When they returned after dinner, they found a new notice posted on the bulletin board, announcing the date of the Apparition Exam.

Before the first exam (April 21), students who are 17 years of age or older can register to attend special training at Hogsmeade (under strict supervision).

Ron panicked after seeing the notice. Although he could now Apparition normally, he was still a little nervous, worried that he would fail the exam.

Hermione, on the other hand, is more confident. Once she succeeds, she has no reason to doubt herself.

As for Harry —nobody thinks he won't succeed.

Neville, on the other hand, didn't seem worried at all, because he was still four months away from turning seventeen, and he wouldn't be able to take the exam regardless of whether he had practiced well or not.

Or rather, Luna is all he can think about right now.

After wasting a lot of time nagging about their worries about Apparition, Ron and Neville are now painfully writing a particularly difficult paper for Professor Slughorn, while Harry and Hermione have already finished theirs.

Hermione, who had been sitting not far away thinking for a long time without any clue, sat back down here.

"How do you write 'provocation'?" Ron asked, staring at the Parchment and vigorously shaking his Quill. "It can't be 'peach blossom bank'."

_"

"No," Hermione said, pulling Ron's paper over, "' Divination ' isn't the Ancient Ten either. What kind of pen are you using?"

"It's Fred and George's Error-Correcting Quill —but I think the magic is starting to fail—"

"It must be," Hermione said, pointing to his thesis title. "We're going to write about how to deal with Dementor."

"Not dealing with digging mudflats," and I don't remember when you changed your name to "Luo Niao Wei Qili."

"What?!" Ron exclaimed, staring at the Parchment in horror. "Don't make me rewrite it!"

"It's okay, it can be fixed." Hermione said, pulling the paper over and drawing her wand.

"I love you, Hermione," Ron said, leaning back in his chair and rubbing his eyes sleepily.

Hermione blushed slightly. She glanced at Neville and Harry without making it obvious, and noticed that Neville was still struggling with the paper in front of him, while Harry was looking at him and Ron with a half-smile.

Then she glared at Harry.

Harry was a little confused. "Wait, why are you glaring at me?"

Do you think glaring at me will cover up what happened between you and Ron?

"I have to say," Ron muttered, "Hermione is definitely different now. In first and second year, she would yell at me to write it herself; in third or fourth year, she would glare at me angrily and then fly into a rage—and fifth year was another story, but sixth year is definitely different."

"What?" Harry looked at Hermione, who was still trying to fool herself, with amusement, then saw Ron had already expertly taken out and unlocked his phone. "I suggest you play fewer games, especially when Hermione is helping you revise your papers."

Ron immediately sat up straight and retorted, "Don't worry, Harry, I'm just looking up information— Hermione, don't look at me like that. See, I'm looking up information, aren't I?"

As he spoke, he glared fiercely at Harry.

Harry then made a face at Ron.

Tricking your buddies is definitely one of the most interesting things in the world.

On the evening of March 11th, Ron was thinking of dragging Harry out for something to eat.

"I have something to do," Harry said apologetically to Ron. "You know, the class reunion is tomorrow, so I have to leave tonight to go see Veratia in Vienna."

"Oh, go ahead then," Ron said, waving his hand. "Hermione also said she wanted me to invite you along so we could listen to Hermione Khan the younger's latest work after dinner—but that looks like that's off the table now, you have more important things to do."

"Well, we'll talk about it when I get back." Harry patted Ron on the shoulder and left the Great Hall.

He activated Apparition and vanished from the Black Lake.

When he arrived at the entrance to the Vienna Ministry of Magic, he found that Nurmengard Castle was now more magnificent than before, and it looked like it had been carefully renovated inside and out.

After all, it's the European Ministry of Magic, such a large department, it needs to have a proper appearance, right?

When he reached the gates of Nurmengard Castle, the wizards guarding the entrance immediately stepped aside to let him in.

Are you kidding me? Who doesn't know Harry's identity? You dare to stop the Minister's man?

The very next day, you'll learn the harsh realities of society.

He walked unimpeded to the Minister's Office on the fourth floor.

After knocking on the door and entering, he saw Veratia hunched over her desk, reviewing documents.

Veratia wore glasses and looked gentle and intellectual, with a touch of Anne's charm.

But Anne didn't possess Veratia's elegant demeanor.

"You're here?" Veratia said without looking up. "Let's find somewhere to sit first. I need to finish reading these documents—well, did they say when Cassandra is coming?"

"No," Harry answered truthfully. "I contacted her, and she said she'd be coming with Pabbie later."

--

He looked back and found a very comfortable rocking chair, then sat down.

After swaying back and forth for a short while, drowsiness suddenly overwhelmed me.

He drifted off to sleep in a daze.

What place is this?

When Harry groggily opened his eyes, he found himself in a cave.

At his feet were puddles of water.

With the help of the outside light, he could vaguely see the ground, but if he went further in, he might not be able to see it clearly anymore.

"Veratia?" he called tentatively, and his voice bounced back from all directions.

There was no response.

He walked a short distance inside, then pulled out his wand from his pocket and illuminated the surroundings.

As it turned out, this photo revealed a hideous face.

It's Runcorn.

Instinctively, Harry cast a Charms, which struck Runcorn squarely in the face.

However, nothing happened.

Hehehe--

Runcorn let out a grotesque laugh.

"Tom, my friend--"

Tom?

Harry suddenly realized—could it be that he was now being viewed from someone else's perspective?

What was that subconscious Charms just now?

He turned around and was met with a face that was both delicate and alluring.

Ugh, it's Voldemort —no, it's Miss Merope.

"I've told you many times, don't call me Tom." Miss Merope's expression wasn't very kind. "My name is Merope Gaunt!"

--

Runcorn chuckled, but remained silent for a long while.

"Did you bring everything I needed?" he asked.

Miss Merope stepped aside, behind her a delicate-looking girl was bound.

"It seems you've truly been assimilated by the dragon's blood, Runcorn," Miss Merope remarked. "Collecting gold and silver treasures, and beautiful virgins—you really are a dangerous dragon."

"Don't worry, Merope," Runcorn scoffed. "I'm not interested in you. I like girls."

Merope's face twitched twice.

What does it mean to say you like girls?

Even if you like boys, what does that have to do with me?

I'm a girl when I need to be, and a boy when I don't. My main selling point is flexibility, right?

Then, Runcorn opened his mouth wide and aimed it at the trembling girl.

The scene abruptly ended at that moment. He felt his body swaying, and when he opened his eyes, he saw Veratia looking at him with concern.

Behind her was Pabbie's concerned face, and a pair of eyes brimming with righteous indignation.

And Cassandra's disgusted face.

"You're finally awake, thank goodness." Pabbie's face lit up with surprise. "If you had woken up any later, Cassandra might have slashed you with a knife."

Harry glanced at the ruthless Cassandra, only to find that she gave him a disdainful, queenly look.

"What's wrong with me?" he asked, scratching his head.

"I have to ask you something too!" Veratia said with concern, "What's wrong with you? I thought you were just sleepy and that's why you fell asleep, but you didn't seem like that just now. The three of us tried to wake you up, but we couldn't."

If I hadn't used a bit of magic to shake you just now, you probably wouldn't have woken up yet.

"I just had a dream," Harry said slowly, not that he was deliberately keeping it a secret, but it seemed that the dream had taken a lot of toll on him.

"What dream?" Pabbie immediately pressed.

"It's—" Harry paused to gather his thoughts, "that effeminate Voldemort, and Runcorn,

They're together right now, I wonder what they're doing—I saw Voldemort sacrifice a young girl to Runcorn, and he even said Runcorn was like a true dragon descendant, what does that mean?"

The three women exchanged a glance.

"You mean, you saw it?" Veratia pressed, "How did you see it?"

"It was as if I were there myself," Harry nodded. "My perspective was right there at the scene of their transaction, but I don't know what happened afterward, because you shook me around."

Veratia hesitated for a moment, then said, "Do you know their exact location?"

"I don't know," Harry said bluntly. "All I know is that they're in a cave, and there aren't any particularly obvious landmarks around. I have no idea where I am."

"And just now—" Veratia thought for a moment, then said, "What was the sky like outside the cave?"

Harry knew this, and he replied, "It's still light out; it doesn't look like evening yet."

Veratia glanced out the window; night had already fallen in Vienna.

She raised her wrist; the hands of her watch pointed to seven o'clock.

"That means they're still in the America," Veratia said, putting down her watch. "It's already night in Vienna, and the sky in the United States must be dark as well. It's unlikely to brighten like Harry described—there's only one possibility: he's in the America right now."

"Why is this change so certain?" Pabbie asked curiously.

"Because of the time difference, Pabbie." Veratia reached out and ruffled Pabbie's hair, smiling as she said, "You should focus on learning other things instead of spending all your time on Magical Creatures —you see, at least Muggle knowledge can come in handy at crucial moments, right?"

Pabbie swelled up and didn't refute.

Because what Veratia said is indeed quite right.

"Next, we need to figure out what their plan is," Veratia continued. "I have a feeling this time their conspiracy isn't as simple as it seems— Runcorn is a cunning and scheming Goblin, and Voldemort is a notorious wizard, and the two of them together—"

At this point, Veratia stopped talking.

"Are you afraid they'll fall in love?" Cassandra asked, her eyes half-closed.

"You can be a thief for a thousand days, but you can't guard against thieves for a thousand days." Veratia sighed, rubbing her tired eyes. "Even if we went to America now, it would be very difficult to find any trace of those Beijingers—"