Struggling to survive at Hogwarts

Chapter 272 The Chase

Harry thought it must be a dream; how could this be?

Dumbledore is the most powerful person in the entire wizarding world, how could he possibly be so easily...?

The second word sounded like a branding iron; Harry held it in his mouth for a long time but couldn't say it.

He was startled awake when his fingers touched something cold—the locket.

I'm going to kill her!

Harry found it hard to believe that he could hate someone so much one day.

Fear tore at Harry's heart, but the thought excited him like gunpowder.

I must save Dumbledore... I must kill her...

Two thoughts drove Harry to run frantically in the direction the others had left.

He ran across the playground downstairs. The once emerald green gem had withered in the war, becoming the sparse hair of a middle-aged man. The bright red blood burned into Harry's eyes like glaring scars.

"Obstacles are numerous!"

Harry couldn't see who the man surrounded by Death Eaters was, but he decisively launched an attack on the man in black.

He struck the target with a single blow, then, without lingering, continued his pursuit in the direction they had gone.

Spells flew everywhere, stones were shattered into pieces and scattered on the ground, and glass was broken. It was impossible to tell who had been hit by the spells and who was crying out in pain. The whole place was in complete chaos.

He ran wildly to the foyer, where many young wizards stared at him with disbelief, as if he were a giant that had stormed into the school. They were wearing pajamas and had obviously just gotten out of bed.

Some young wizards tried to talk to him, but Harry dashed away like a gust of wind.

When he ran to the clearing in front of the Forbidden Forest, he saw several people in black robes, some tall and some short, and he couldn't make out who they were, but Harry had a feeling that it was them!

"Obstacles...obstacles everywhere!"

The combination of his rapid running and shouting nearly tore his lungs apart, but fortunately, it worked; he successfully stopped the group.

Thea didn't want to bother with Harry; her time was precious and she couldn't afford to waste a single minute.

"...Snape, go stop him!"

Among several "talented" individuals, Thea chose Snape, who was relatively lenient towards Harry, as a parting gift!

"…it is good."

Snape gave Thea a cryptic look, then turned and headed toward Harry.

Seeing that Thea and the others were about to rush out of Hogwarts, Harry became even angrier, and his intense emotions seemed to set him on fire.

"He collapsed to the ground, completely unconscious!"

"Obstacles are numerous!"

"Flames are raging!"

Harry's anger amplified the spell's power, but in Snape's eyes, it still wasn't enough.

He effortlessly deflected all of Harry's attacks, unaware that this effortless defiance only added fuel to the fire for Harry.

"You...you despicable and shameless scoundrel!"

Snape ignored them, remaining silent as he slowly and deliberately dispelled the spells.

“Dumbledore…he trusted you so much…”

"You betrayed him!"

"I do not have."

Snape's curt tone only fueled Harry's anger as he watched Thea escape.

But before Harry could launch another attack, Snape was lifted into the air.

"As expected, you are still the same Potter you always were."

"He hasn't made any progress whatsoever."

After uttering this ambiguous statement, Snape flew straight out of Hogwarts.

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

Harry slumped to the ground, the embers of his burning anger weighing him down, making it impossible for him to move. He didn't want to go over there...

As it turns out, many things cannot be solved by running away.

Perhaps Harry wasted too much time during the chase, or perhaps the scene of Dumbledore falling was too...

Anyway, when Harry walked over stiffly, all that was left was a white coffin.

Pushing aside the people blocking his way, Harry walked forward in a daze. Some people tried to pull him back, and some patted him on the shoulder to comfort him, but he didn't need any of that.

All he wanted was revenge; all he wanted was for the people inside to come back to life.

The indistinct words kept babbling in his ears, and sobs were constant, but Harry didn't even have the energy to be agitated.

His hands slowly slid off the coffin, and his legs involuntarily bent down. He had no more strength left, and he followed his heart, slowly closing his eyes.

I really hope this is a nightmare.

I really hope this is just a nightmare.

------

As with every end of the term, Harry woke up in a hospital bed in the medical wing, but unlike before, no matter how much joy Hermione and Ron showed, they couldn't hide the sadness in their eyes.

The distant sobbing reminded Harry of everything that had happened before, and he closed his eyes in anguish.

This action made Hermione even more worried. She said cautiously, "Madam Pomfrey said you have a bad muscle strain. You ran for too long and too fast..."

"It's not just us; Lupin, Tonks, Sirius, Moody, and the others are all in the medical wing too."

"Professor McGonagall is organizing people to comfort the young wizard."

"Professor Flitwick is resting too... He was knocked unconscious by Snape..."

"Professor Sprout is accelerating the growth of herbs... The injured have already used up the medical wing's supplies..."

Harry gradually sketches out the current situation through Hermione's narration.

"What about Luna and the others? How are the DA members?"

Seeing that Harry had finally spoken, Hermione perked up, "They're all fine! Madam Pomfrey said they can be discharged tomorrow!"

That's good.

Harry's parched heart finally felt a glimmer of hope. Thank goodness, thank goodness I didn't kill you all.

"By the way, where's Fox?"

"Huh?" Hermione looked confused, then began to recall, "I don't remember if it appeared last night..."

Harry didn't pay attention to what Hermione was saying; his entire attention was drawn to the object in Professor McGonagall's hand as she entered.

"This fell out of your pocket."

Professor McGonagall was no longer as meticulous as usual; her hair was somewhat disheveled, and she hadn't had time to clean the grime on her face.

Harry took the locket and began to examine the product of their long night's work.

It was not quite the same as what he had seen in the Pensieve; it was not the same size, nor did it have any elaborate patterns.

Harry pressed it gently, and the locket popped open, revealing a piece of parchment inside.

He unfolded the note, and the handwriting inside came into view:

To the Dark Lord:

I know that by the time you read this letter, I will be dead, but I want you to know that I discovered your secret, and I have taken the real Horcrux and destroyed it as soon as possible.

I would risk my life so that when you meet your destined opponent, you are merely a mortal of flesh and blood.

——RAB

Seeing this, Harry's anxiety completely died.

He didn't want to know who that RAB was; he only knew one thing: Dumbledore and his adventure last night had been a complete waste of time.