Struggling to survive at Hogwarts

Chapter 370 Relics (3)

"He collapsed to the ground, completely unconscious!"

The red lightning swept like a whip towards the thugs who were heading straight for the "delicate girl" in the alley. The thugs who were hit by the lightning fell to the ground without even touching their magic wands.

From the moment the attack was launched to the moment the victim fell to the ground, the entire process took no more than a minute.

The newcomer seemed to be well aware of the trope that "villains die from talking too much," so he saved his harsh words for after his opponent had fallen to the ground.

"Seriously, who gave you the courage to think you still have a chance to turn things around?"

"By the way, miss, are you alright—"

Harry's remaining words were as if someone had choked him, only a few "ho, ho" sounds came out, and the moment his reason returned, he instantly shut his mouth.

Ignoring the fallen thugs, Harry stepped over a hapless fellow without looking to the side, his steps heavy as if heading for his death.

Harry's heart bled from a sharp and prolonged piercing pain when he finally saw the girl's face leaning against the wall.

"West……"

Harry couldn't make a sound, afraid of waking up from the dream he was in.

Do you recognize me, sir?

Harry was answered by the girl's question.

Thea's words reached Harry's ears, but he scrutinized Thea from head to toe: her pale face, chapped lips, and her trembling hands behind her back.

Your acting has improved again, Miss Blake.

Silence enveloped them both until Thea asked hesitantly, "...Sir?"

"........."

Harry's nearly five years of experience as an Auror allowed him to quickly determine that something was wrong with Thea.

She seems to... have absolutely no memory of herself...

The moment Harry realized this, he felt a sharp, piercing pain once again.

But he still maintained his facade, smiling broadly.

"Just call me Potter..."

Although I don't know why you don't remember me, I still don't want to hear you address me so formally. I would rather you call me "Potter" all the time.

"Potter?"

"……Um."

"Let's go."

"Where?"

"Do I look like the kind of person who would stand by and watch someone die?"

"........."

Thea's eerie silence made Harry instinctively imagine what she was saying.

Harry: "..."

He was so angry he almost laughed.

"Let's go, young lady!"

Before Thea could refuse, a coat still warm from her body was draped over her head.

"Keep it on, it can still be windy on August nights."

Thea stood still, but Harry seemed to have anticipated Thea's objections:

"The coat is new; I've only worn it for less than two hours!"

"……oh."

Thea gave a slow reply and then followed Harry.

Thea was initially curious about where the other person was taking her until the two arrived at their destination.

Looking at the bar in front of her, so dirty that the signboard was almost illegible, Thea fell silent again, her silent eyes seeming to ask, "Is this some kind of new-style human exchange?"

"...I never intended to sell you!"

Harry pleaded earnestly, "I've stayed in second-floor rooms many times; you can't judge a book by its cover!"

"……oh."

Harry was completely exasperated by her. As he reached out to pull her hat up, he deflated and pressed it down a little. Before Thea could protest, he stretched out two fingers, grabbed her exposed sleeve, and pulled her inside.

After skillfully bypassing the drunks in the bar, the two arrived at the bar counter.

With the brim of his hat obscuring her view, Thea couldn't see Harry's movements clearly, but she could hear him slamming something metal on the table and then speaking to the bartender who had come to watch the commotion:

"Perform the mission, understand?"

"Understand!"

The words "carry out a mission" seemed like a spell. In an instant, Thea felt the gaze that had been glued to her withdraw, and even the bartender's attitude became serious.

"Same as always, one room, the room fee will be on my tab."

"okay!"

The chubby bartender grinned from ear to ear, especially when he saw Harry subtly shielding the mysterious woman behind him; his eyes gleamed with a hint of gossip.

But Harry didn't give him that chance. He took the room key and pulled Thea up the stairs.

Unlocking, entering, and locking the door—a series of actions performed with fluid grace. Thea was looking around the room when she was suddenly pushed into the bathroom, and the door was closed behind her.

"I'll keep watch outside. You can use the clothes inside for now. I'll have someone bring you some fresh clothes later."

Thea was a little confused.

Standing in front of the mirror, staring blankly at my own face.

She suddenly smiled when she heard the crisp sound of a lighter being switched on and off outside the door.

Although she didn't catch any fish, it seems she caught a fool.

Harry remained silent outside the door until the taste of nicotine filled his mouth, and his overheated mind slowly calmed down.

He slowly sorted through everything that had happened that day.

As usual, the mornings are mostly spent in the office surrounded by a deluge of case files and those old, tired verbal battles.

He had just finished lunch with two friends when he received a tip from his subordinates about a black wizard. He followed the clues and went to make his move.

Unsurprisingly, he caught a few more fish, but the only price he paid was a few scratches on his body.

This wouldn't have been a big deal, but Ron was there, and he was currently thinking about proposing to Hermione, so he didn't dare hide his injury from her.

Sure enough, Hermione found out. She wanted to send him to St. Mungo's, but then she got caught up in the "inheritance division" issue brought up by those old fogies, and Ron was also conscripted.

He slipped away under the pretext of "completing the operation file".

Although he said he was "strolling," it was already night when he came out. Looking at the streetlights, he suddenly wanted to have a drink—his family's stock of drinks was empty.

"A bunch of old bastards who haven't given up their thievery!"

Harry cursed under his breath as he walked toward the bar, and by sheer coincidence, he passed by that alley.

Then... the hero saves the damsel in distress.

The instant he saw the person clearly, the despair and repentance that had been repeated a thousand times in his dreams intertwined with the joy of reunion, forming a torrent that almost instantly overwhelmed the dam of reason in his mind.

What terrified him even more was that even after losing his mind, a wave of panic and vigilance would wash over him within seconds, leaving him with no strength to resist.

How pathetic, Thea.

In the fifth year since your death, at the first moment of our reunion, I no longer felt pure joy. We had been scheming against each other for too long, and being wary of you had become my instinct.

It's as if we've always been like this; those dreams of intimacy have long since turned to ashes and vanished into time.