Losing Control

Harry returned to the Gryffindor Common Room. His face was so dark it was almost black.

Just now, when Ron and Hermione went to give directions to the first-years and he left the Great Hall alone, people's stares never left him. They whispered and pointed at Harry, as if he were some rare and precious thing. Of course, everyone who has read the Daily Prophet would consider Harry a crazy person who talks nonsense. That's how he was described in the newspaper.

"Hi, Harry— " someone called out cheerfully from behind him.

Harry turned around and saw two boys. The one who spoke was Dean Thomas, Gryffindor classmate, with dark skin. Standing next to him was Dean's best friend, Seamus Finnigan, whose expression was listless and who refused to look Harry in the eye.

Harry felt a sting; Seamus's expression was no different from the students staring at him from downstairs.

"How was your summer vacation?" Dean asked.

"It was alright," Harry mumbled a reply. He didn't have the energy to recount his summer experiences in detail; it would probably take until the wee hours of the morning. "And you?"

"Ah, that's good," Dean said with a soft laugh. "Anyway, he's better than Seamus. He was just telling me that."

"Hello, Seamus," Harry said casually, noticing Seamus Finnigan standing there motionless.

Seamus didn't answer immediately. He looked Harry up and down, then his gaze drifted to the other side, his voice seemingly coming straight from his throat, "My mother didn't want me to come."

"She doesn't want me to go back to Hogwarts." Seamus and Harry looked at each other, and Harry felt a fire burning in his heart.

"Your mother doesn't want you to go back to Hogwarts? Why?" Harry saw through Seamus's gaze, which stung like a needle. He could almost foresee Seamus's answer, his thoughts, which were no different from those of the students downstairs looking at him with suspicion and conjecture.

"I think... it's probably because of you," Seamus said, carefully choosing his words.

"I think I understand what you mean." Harry was unusually calm. After a tumultuous summer, his mind seemed different than usual. He raised an eyebrow, a slight smirk playing on his lips, and asked with a hint of sarcasm, "She must have read the Daily Prophet? And thinks I'm a fraud, Dumbledore is senile, right?"

Seamus looked up at him, seemingly displeased by Harry's mocking expression. He frowned, nodded, and said, "Yeah, that's roughly the idea."

"Ha, then why did you come?" Harry chuckled sarcastically again. This time, he was too lazy to say anything more to Seamus, and turned to leave the common room to return to his dormitory.

But before he could do that, Seamus spoke up, "So, what exactly happened that night...? Was it about the Triwizard Cup...?"

"What exactly are you trying to say?" Harry turned around angrily, this time unable to maintain his composure. He was fed up; being constantly watched and judged was exhausting and tedious. None of them could understand, even just a little, what it felt like for one person to experience so much...

"Now that you've gotten everything you wanted to know from your mother," Harry said coldly, a glint of malice flashing in his eyes, "Why not read the Daily Prophet like your mother did? It'll tell you everything you need to know."

"You're not allowed to talk about my mother like that!" Seamus said angrily.

The common room, which had been quiet and peaceful just a moment ago, suddenly became tense. Fred and George stood up from the sofa, and Dean Thomas tried to say something but couldn't get a word in edgewise.

"What? Didn't your mother say I'm a liar?"

"Hey, calm down, guys, what's going on?" George tried to mediate, but was ignored.

"Don't talk to me like that! I won't let you mention my mother again— Potter!" Seamus roared, raising both fists, but Harry remained unusually calm, realizing that he had indeed changed a lot.

He simply and calmly took the wand from the pocket of his robe and pointed it at Seamus Finnigan.

"Hey, calm down, Harry— " Fred tried to soothe Harry's emotions.

Harry, however, felt no impulsiveness whatsoever. He was extremely calm, several curses and venomous thoughts flashing through his mind. Looking into Seamus's eyes, there was no hesitation in his gaze. If Seamus said another word, he would knock him down.

"Come on, you madman—you know what—you're completely insane! You dare point your wand at me—" Seamus swung his fist and charged at Harry, Dean tried to grab him but missed.

"Seamus!" he shouted, but could only watch helplessly as Seamus lunged at Harry. Then, a flash of red light appeared, and everyone realized that something was wrong.

Seamus was sent flying backward as if hit head-on by a large truck, his feet barely touching the ground. He crashed through a pile of wooden chairs and low tables before slamming hard against the hard stone wall of the common room.

Harry slowly lowered his wand, looking at everyone expressionlessly.

Chaos reigned in the common room. Harry looked at Seamus lying on the floor, then glanced at the wand clutched tightly in his hand, a hint of confusion in his eyes. Everything had happened in the blink of an eye; in his anger, he didn't even know what he had been doing.

Seamus fell to the ground, covering his face in a disheveled state, his eyes filled with disbelief and anger, while his classmates stared at him in astonishment.

Harry's heart pounded in his chest, as if he had just been through a real battle—a strange and indescribable feeling. All he wanted to do now was escape. Watching Seamus slowly stand up with Dean's help, Harry turned and walked silently toward the door leading to the boys' dormitory, his face stiff.

"I'm going to tell Professor McGonagall! You're insane! You're absolutely insane!" Seamus shouted from behind Harry.

Harry's heart skipped a beat, but he didn't stop walking. He said coldly, "Suit yourself. Go ahead and tell Professor McGonagall— "

At this moment, his mind was in chaos. Although he was vaguely uneasy, the emotions that had been suppressed in his heart for a long time were released, which made him feel an unprecedented sense of pleasure.

But his mind was buzzing, as if another voice was whispering, encouraging him, and stirring him.

"Well done, Potter, he deserved it."

He doesn't believe you, he questions you, and he should pay the price for his stupidity.

"Look at him, he's nothing but a coward. You finally shut him up."

Harry's breathing quickened, his chest heaving, anger burning in his veins, yet tinged with a hint of pleasure. His hand still gripped his wand tightly, his fingers trembling, not from regret, but because... he was even somewhat enjoying the moment.

"You finally did what you were supposed to do."

"They've never believed you; they think you're crazy, a fraud. How long are you going to put up with this?"

"Power is everything, Potter."

For a moment, he couldn't even understand why he had acted, why he had lost his patience, why he had chosen violence this time. But then he felt he hadn't done anything wrong— Seamus's attitude, his questioning, his mockery... weren't they all deserved?

But... is this really me?

Harry shook his head, trying to shake off the eerie whispers in his mind, but they lingered there, as if something lurking in the darkness was slowly seeping into his thoughts.