Struggling to survive at Hogwarts

Chapter 329 Metaphor

On the third day after Harry and his friends arrived at the Shell Cottage, Dr. Fleur finally announced that they had recovered.

"Finally free! I've had enough of that pot of sticky, unidentified liquid—"

"Shut up!" Ron's grumbling was caught red-handed by Fleur. "You ungrateful brat, do you think you would have recovered so quickly without those potions?"

After saying this, Furong raised her head high, as if waiting for something.

After a short while, Ron finally grumbled, "But...but it tastes awful! I can even smell the burnt smell in it..."

Instantly, a large blush spread across Furong's face.

"I...I didn't mean to...God knows why the fire was so strong—"

While the two were bickering, Hermione by the window had already picked up a book and moved aside. She was clearly used to Ron's complaints and Fleur's rebuttals.

Bill went out; he needed to go to a nearby store or shopping street to buy food for the group.

The only person who was free at that moment was Harry.

Today was a rare sunny day, and he curled up completely on the sofa. When the warm sunlight shone in, he felt as if his bones were melting.

I overheard two elementary school students arguing, until one sentence rang out—"Who knew the fire would be so strong?"

It sounded familiar; he seemed to remember the expression on someone's face when they said those words—a rare look of embarrassment.

"what--"

Harry chuckled briefly, then a greater question arose in his mind.

Why did she let herself go back then?

I heard that after he left, a fight broke out on that road, and blood almost soaked the road.

The ambiguous actions within that dilapidated house.

That map that never got used.

In the meager amount of time they spend together, why is the other person so silent for so long? What is she thinking?

Her missing wand, the dense scars on her arm.

What did she experience after dropping out of school?

Harry's head started to ache more and more as he thought about it, and the last thought that came to mind almost made him jump out of his skin.

—Could she be…an undercover agent?

But how is that possible?

Voldemort, the ruthless killer, is her father!

Her mother is the tyrannical and cruel Bella!

She even killed Dumbledore with her own hands in front of so many people!

How could she possibly be an undercover agent?

How could she possibly be a good person?

The conclusion he had drawn was overturned, and Harry began to force himself to think about the next step.

But certain things just kept popping into my mind.

A cup that no one has ever used.

An ordinary teapot lid.

And then there was that final, deep look the other person gave me.

What is she trying to express?

She was clearly pretending to be an old woman, so why would she do something so baffling?

By the way, what did she say at the end?

"There's another one upstairs?"

What's upstairs?

There's a snake that can swallow him whole with just one open mouth!

What exactly is she trying to express?

"Cup...teapot lid...I...snake..."

"Cup...teapot lid...I...snake..."

"Cup...teapot lid...I...snake..."

Since he had nothing else to do, Harry started repeating those words over and over, hoping that inspiration might come to him soon.

What exactly are you doing?

In the end, Harry found inspiration, but Hermione pulled his ear and interrupted his sleep.

Hermione was absolutely furious with her two frenemy friends!

Ron was one thing, but she knew he never stopped talking.

But what about Harry?

When did he develop this bad habit of disturbing others' studies?

Hermione's eyes sharpened as she suddenly looked at Ron, who was gloating beside her.

Ron: "..."

I've been wronged!

Finally, for the safety of my good brother.

Harry, in a fit of desperation, blurted out all his wild thoughts.

But to his surprise, Hermione actually agreed with his idea after frowning and thinking for a long time!

"Actually, it's also my fault. I was being chased and after I ran away, I was only thinking about escaping and didn't have time to think about this abnormality."

Ron chimed in from the side.

“That’s right, I felt something was wrong at the time too! At first, I also thought she was just doing something that an elderly person with a lapse in judgment would do, like my great-aunt…”

"Let's not talk about that. The main thing is that I saw the way she looked at you later!"

Ron managed to steer the conversation back on track before it veered completely off course.

"That's not the look an old person gives you! I always felt like she wanted to tell you something! Anyway, I felt like there was something hidden in her eyes!"

When Ron got excited, his words became incoherent, but both of them understood what he meant.

Blake's eyes looked... off!

The three began to review the incident.

“I asked her if there was anything Dumbledore wanted to tell me,” Harry recalled, frowning.

"Then she handed you a cup."

Ron spoke expressionlessly.

God knows he was hoping, just like Harry, that the other person really had a clue that Dumbledore had left for them, and then—the other person handed them a cup.

Ron: This is absolutely catastrophic!

"There was a teapot lid behind it, which I took from the table next to me!"

Hermione added, "And then he just stares at you without saying a word."

"Finally, she led us to the mouth of that giant snake on the second floor!"

Ron practically yelled at the last sentence, which shows how much psychological trauma the snake had caused him.

"Cup...teapot lid...I...snake..."

The three of them simultaneously extracted the keywords and began muttering them to themselves.

Hermione closed her eyes as she read, seemingly searching her mind for any connection between the items in some encyclopedia.

Ron was similar, gesturing on the ground with his right hand, seemingly trying to find the clues from their spelling.

Harry: "..."

My friends are working so hard, it makes me feel like a complete failure!

So he started racking his brains to think of something.

When his eyes fell on a certain symbol, he had a flash of inspiration, grabbed a piece of Hermione's draft paper and pen, and began to draw.

The other two were also drawn to him.

Come closer and take a look:

"Gryffindor - The Sword"

"Slytherin - Locket"

This……

"It's nothing, is it?" Ron didn't react, but Hermione did.

Hufflepuff - The Golden Cup

"Ravenclaw - The Coronet"

Only after the final stroke was completed did Hermione exclaim softly, "It's a success!"

Ron looked at the paper again, still confused, and an idea began to vaguely take shape.

"You...you mean—"

Ron had also figured out the answer.

If Voldemort could turn Slytherin's relics into Horcruxes, what reason would he have not to harm other creatures?

"So our next targets are these two?"

"That's right!"

Harry and Hermione spoke in unison.