Harry Potter and the Secret Treasures

Harry was very surprised to hear Sirius.

He had no idea that his father had fought Griffindor in illusions that year, and although he had lost in the end, it was remarkable.

The opponent is Gryffindor, not every wizard is qualified to challenge, which in itself is a recognition of his father's strength.

He walked a few steps forward onto the black stone platform and felt his legs shaking.

Next to him, Margaret looked at herself unemotionally, with a slight impatience in her face.

Elder horseman elders retreat completely into the shadows without a sound.

Harry took a deep breath and was ready to take the challenge.

Instead of looking back at the encouragement, he held his fist and kept telling himself not to be afraid, no matter what he saw in the illusion.

Perhaps he could fight Griffindor like his father did, or face the myriad eight-eyed giant spiders and dementors like Ron did. None of this is a problem, but if you're tested for magic like Hermione, you're not good at it.

Harry thought about it and waited until he regained consciousness before realizing that he had entered the illusion.

Time is still late at night, and the stars in the night sky haven't changed much.

With a cold wind blowing through, Harry couldn't help but shudder.

He pulled the robe and found himself standing on a dark street.

It's not Hogwarts or Sadashi Road, he can be sure he's never been to this place before, but there's an indescribable sense of familiarity.

“Fluorescent flashes!” Harry pulled the wand out and looked around with vigilance.

He was standing in a small alley, with a big, shattered house standing beside a narrow alley, all painted black with no lights, not even a sound.

Not far ahead is a small square, which is the heart of this small village.

Harry slowly moved forward, the cold winds of the night on his cheeks like needles, passing more houses along the way, all dark and uninhabited.

Closer and closer to the square, Harry saw that the central position was a huge statue of a wizard, with his wand raised to the front with his left hand, and a rare silver sword with his right hand, which resembled the image of Gryffindor as described by Ivan and Hermione, perhaps just him.

As he weighed the statue, suddenly there was a fight and a woman screaming in front of the house.

Harry raised his head hastily and saw the door of the house open, a room on the second floor lit with a faint candlelight, particularly visible in the dark.

His heart was beating so hard that it almost jumped to his throat.

Not surprisingly, the test he was about to face was in this house, and he didn't know what was waiting for him, and the darkness around him was depressing to the extreme.

“Is anybody there?” Harry ran to the door, shouted loudly, "Who's in there? ”

No one responded to him, the ground floor lobby was a mess, apparently having just experienced a brutal duel, and someone broke into this room from the outside.

Harry took a few steps inside and pulled up in front of the fireplace. He couldn't believe looking at a picture of his parents, his mother holding a baby in her arms with a happy smile on her face.

Harry finally knows where this place is. This is his home.

“This is Godric's Hollow, this is my home, where I was born!” Harry's heartbeat is almost stagnant, and I can't believe I'm looking at all of this.

He even forgot that this was an illusion created by Gryffindor, and there was only one thought in his mind, and he went home and went back to where he once lived.

Without Voldemort, he would have grown up here and spent every vacation.

He would invite friends to play at home, possibly even have siblings, and his mother would make him birthday cakes instead of celebrating alone.

Harry wiped his sudden tears, and he imagined it more than once when he saw his parents' old photos. Just as he was about to take a closer look around, there was a scream and a cry from a woman upstairs, the sound he heard when he met the dementor, the cry of his mother.

Harry finally realized that it was the night Voldemort broke into his house and that the misfortune that had affected his life was about to happen.

Without hesitation, he rushed wildly to the second floor.

Harry knew he had to hurry, he wanted to see his parents, and if he was fast enough, he could even save them from Voldemort.

He used all his strength to hold the wand tightly in his hand. Harry gasped and climbed up the stairs, and then he saw a man with a black hood standing at the stairwell laughing coldly, laughing so brutally.

At his feet lay a figure of a man and a woman.

Inside the corner is a small crib in which a child is crying weakly.

“No,” Harry shouted loudly, knowing that those two men on earth were his parents, and that they were dead, and that they were killed by Voldemort!

Soon, it's your turn.

“Except for your weapon!” Harry shouted loudly and ran up together.

Voldemort flashed gently over Harry's spell, swinging his wand quickly, and a green light struck Harry, who was pouring on him.

Harry fell, he did not know what magic Voldemort had cast on himself, as if it were a petrochemical spell, his body could not control, but his consciousness was extraordinarily sober.

He saw his father pouring in the blood, his empty eyes filled with discomfort.

His father, pushing his right hand forward, seemed to want to hold his mother's hand before he died, but drowned on the floor.

Harry tried to scream, but he couldn't make a sound.

He could only watch Voldemort walk step by step towards himself as a baby, a cold voice, and then a dark green light flashed past him.

Voldemort sent a tearing scream, and his evil spell bounced back to knock himself down, turning into a black smoke escaping through the window.

Harry cried so hard that he felt the scar on his forehead coming from the pain of drilling and the world in front of him was shattering rapidly.

He knew he was about to leave and go back to reality, and he tried to visit his parents, hoping to see them one last time.

“You failed, courageous but unable to defeat yourself. Remember, the last enemy to destroy is death! ”

It was Harry's final impression that a male voice full of magnetism sounded from the void, and he had no idea what that meant.

Harry is still immersed in the great grief of his parents' death, as well as his hatred for Voldemort.

By the time he regained consciousness, he had returned to the Temple of the Horseman, where he was lying on a black platform with silent tears.