Chapter 245 Attacked
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Yi Yang Shi Ming Yue
Eli didn't know when Draco returned to the bedroom, but when he came back from the bathroom, Draco was already sitting on the edge of the bed, thinking about something.
Seeing Eli coming in, Draco just looked up, then lowered his head as if to escape.
Eli didn't talk to him. There was really nothing to say about the situation at this time.
He couldn't open his mouth to persuade Draco to make a choice, because even if the choice Draco was facing at this time was left to an old wizard with a lot of life experience, he couldn't make a decision without hesitating.
Eli was still optimistic, and his optimism came from Draco's struggle at this time.
He would still struggle anyway, and if Draco really stood against them without mercy, or stood with them without hesitation, then such a Draco would lose his true nature.
He cherishes his friends; he also has worries about his family.
The best thing to do now is nothing more than to keep calm on both sides, wait for the opportunity, and create an environment for this lost little lamb to guide him to make a suitable choice, and then consider the issue of beating up.
Gryffindor Tower, when Harry and Ron returned to the dormitory, their expressions were different.
Ron looked aggrieved. He might understand Draco's current predicament, but he was just angry, and he just couldn't bear the betrayal of a good buddy.
It's not like he would bring his anger to Astoria, the unfriendly questioning during the day was just because he was out of breath.
Harry, on the other hand, looked worried. He kept drooping his head, letting Ron swear at the side, and he didn't interrupt.
Looking at the ink splashed night outside the window, he was a little frightened, because the night is always accompanied by nightmares.
He wasn't afraid of Voldemort, he wished he could duel him.
But Voldemort had invaded his dreams and his mind so often, so treacherously, that he panicked.
Letting an enemy into one's own brain is an extremely dangerous thing.
Everyone in the dormitory was lying on the bed, with different thoughts.
Neville huddled under the quilt, sticking out half of his head to look at Harry and Ron from time to time.
He was worried about what happened during the day, because he supported Dumbledore's Army immensely, and he would support any attempt to fight against the dark forces that tormented his parents.
He was a little afraid that such an organization would be disbanded one day, but he seemed powerless and could only express his worries in this way.
The night slowly invaded the room, and everyone fell into a deep sleep.
At this moment, Harry's consciousness seemed to be plunged into viscous darkness. He could feel part of it, but it seemed so chaotic that he couldn't even tell who he was.
The field of vision gradually revealed, he seemed to be on the ground, and seemed to be moving.The surrounding scene is interesting and familiar, and the black and solemn walls seem familiar.
He is like a helpless bystander, who can clearly see that everything is changing, but cannot think, cannot move, and can only let the carrier take him to watch.
He seemed to have broken into a room, and he was extremely unaccustomed to this view, because he seemed to be crawling on the ground, and he even seemed to feel the coldness of the floor.
Such reptile-like actions made him feel uncomfortable, but he couldn't break free.
The door of the room opened, and there seemed to be a special space at the door, and he couldn't even see the edge.
There are huge and tall shelves everywhere, I don't know if it's because my vision is too short or it's just like this.
The shelves were neatly arranged in rows, and a straight and narrow aisle stretched far away, and he didn't know where the end was.
There were many crystal balls on the shelf, and there seemed to be some mist flowing inside. He remembered the crystal ball that Trelawney used in the divination class. Compared with the one here, it seemed to have more to do with divination.
The field of vision continued to move forward and side to side, and Harry really thought he was now a snake, or a lizard, or some very small reptile.
After turning several corners, it seemed like an aimless visit, but after a long time, it seemed more like looking for something.
In the almost infinite repetition of the elevated, Harry only felt caught in a loop that dazzled his eyes.
And soon, a different one finally appeared in the field of vision.
It seemed to be a person, lying on a chair crookedly, with a candle floating in the air on one side, the person was facing him with his back, and it was impossible to see who it was.
His vision seemed to have a target immediately, and his movements became more sluggish. Harry even held his breath subconsciously, as if he was doing something very concealed.
He kept approaching the figure, getting closer and closer, until he reached under the chair, he could already see the man's hanging hand, which looked like a man.
Suddenly, the field of vision increased, and then he leaned back and pressed down, as if he was accumulating strength, and made a gesture of eagerness to try.
A thought quickly popped into Harry's mind, as if he was going to bite the hand hard.
He wasn't quite sure where this feeling came from, but he was eager. He wanted to tell that person to leave quickly, but he seemed impatient to attack.
After all, he is just a bystander, unable to decide what happens.
What he imagined happened immediately before his eyes. The blood stained his field of vision red. There was more than one attack, and the blood surged one after another. It seemed to bite his heart every time.
The man struggled, but was bitten in the leg and fell, his wand rolling across the floor.
"Mr. Weasley?", that face was very familiar to Harry, that kind face was now stained with blood, the pain spread infinitely, and the whole body curled up in pain.
Harry wanted to shout, he wanted to run to save Mr Weasley, but he couldn't do it, he was so desperate.
The vision struck again and again, and Mr. Weasley grew weaker and weaker.
Whenever he wanted to hook the wand not far away, the big invisible mouth immediately bit down on it.
Harry was horrified, feeling as if he was attacking Mr. Weasley.
If this continues, Mr. Weasley is doomed to die at the hands of "him".
Life struggled before his eyes, flickering like a candle.
With a loud noise, the picture ends here, and the consciousness goes through countless shuttles, everything seems to be pulled into a thin line.
Opening his eyes suddenly, sweating profusely, Harry was panting violently. That "dream" consumed him tremendously, and the blood of killing was still affecting his consciousness.
Ron was watching him with concern, and Harry slowly came back to consciousness. He had to go to see Dumbledore and tell him the dream just now, because everything might be happening now!
Seeing Eli coming in, Draco just looked up, then lowered his head as if to escape.
Eli didn't talk to him. There was really nothing to say about the situation at this time.
He couldn't open his mouth to persuade Draco to make a choice, because even if the choice Draco was facing at this time was left to an old wizard with a lot of life experience, he couldn't make a decision without hesitating.
Eli was still optimistic, and his optimism came from Draco's struggle at this time.
He would still struggle anyway, and if Draco really stood against them without mercy, or stood with them without hesitation, then such a Draco would lose his true nature.
He cherishes his friends; he also has worries about his family.
The best thing to do now is nothing more than to keep calm on both sides, wait for the opportunity, and create an environment for this lost little lamb to guide him to make a suitable choice, and then consider the issue of beating up.
Gryffindor Tower, when Harry and Ron returned to the dormitory, their expressions were different.
Ron looked aggrieved. He might understand Draco's current predicament, but he was just angry, and he just couldn't bear the betrayal of a good buddy.
It's not like he would bring his anger to Astoria, the unfriendly questioning during the day was just because he was out of breath.
Harry, on the other hand, looked worried. He kept drooping his head, letting Ron swear at the side, and he didn't interrupt.
Looking at the ink splashed night outside the window, he was a little frightened, because the night is always accompanied by nightmares.
He wasn't afraid of Voldemort, he wished he could duel him.
But Voldemort had invaded his dreams and his mind so often, so treacherously, that he panicked.
Letting an enemy into one's own brain is an extremely dangerous thing.
Everyone in the dormitory was lying on the bed, with different thoughts.
Neville huddled under the quilt, sticking out half of his head to look at Harry and Ron from time to time.
He was worried about what happened during the day, because he supported Dumbledore's Army immensely, and he would support any attempt to fight against the dark forces that tormented his parents.
He was a little afraid that such an organization would be disbanded one day, but he seemed powerless and could only express his worries in this way.
The night slowly invaded the room, and everyone fell into a deep sleep.
At this moment, Harry's consciousness seemed to be plunged into viscous darkness. He could feel part of it, but it seemed so chaotic that he couldn't even tell who he was.
The field of vision gradually revealed, he seemed to be on the ground, and seemed to be moving.The surrounding scene is interesting and familiar, and the black and solemn walls seem familiar.
He is like a helpless bystander, who can clearly see that everything is changing, but cannot think, cannot move, and can only let the carrier take him to watch.
He seemed to have broken into a room, and he was extremely unaccustomed to this view, because he seemed to be crawling on the ground, and he even seemed to feel the coldness of the floor.
Such reptile-like actions made him feel uncomfortable, but he couldn't break free.
The door of the room opened, and there seemed to be a special space at the door, and he couldn't even see the edge.
There are huge and tall shelves everywhere, I don't know if it's because my vision is too short or it's just like this.
The shelves were neatly arranged in rows, and a straight and narrow aisle stretched far away, and he didn't know where the end was.
There were many crystal balls on the shelf, and there seemed to be some mist flowing inside. He remembered the crystal ball that Trelawney used in the divination class. Compared with the one here, it seemed to have more to do with divination.
The field of vision continued to move forward and side to side, and Harry really thought he was now a snake, or a lizard, or some very small reptile.
After turning several corners, it seemed like an aimless visit, but after a long time, it seemed more like looking for something.
In the almost infinite repetition of the elevated, Harry only felt caught in a loop that dazzled his eyes.
And soon, a different one finally appeared in the field of vision.
It seemed to be a person, lying on a chair crookedly, with a candle floating in the air on one side, the person was facing him with his back, and it was impossible to see who it was.
His vision seemed to have a target immediately, and his movements became more sluggish. Harry even held his breath subconsciously, as if he was doing something very concealed.
He kept approaching the figure, getting closer and closer, until he reached under the chair, he could already see the man's hanging hand, which looked like a man.
Suddenly, the field of vision increased, and then he leaned back and pressed down, as if he was accumulating strength, and made a gesture of eagerness to try.
A thought quickly popped into Harry's mind, as if he was going to bite the hand hard.
He wasn't quite sure where this feeling came from, but he was eager. He wanted to tell that person to leave quickly, but he seemed impatient to attack.
After all, he is just a bystander, unable to decide what happens.
What he imagined happened immediately before his eyes. The blood stained his field of vision red. There was more than one attack, and the blood surged one after another. It seemed to bite his heart every time.
The man struggled, but was bitten in the leg and fell, his wand rolling across the floor.
"Mr. Weasley?", that face was very familiar to Harry, that kind face was now stained with blood, the pain spread infinitely, and the whole body curled up in pain.
Harry wanted to shout, he wanted to run to save Mr Weasley, but he couldn't do it, he was so desperate.
The vision struck again and again, and Mr. Weasley grew weaker and weaker.
Whenever he wanted to hook the wand not far away, the big invisible mouth immediately bit down on it.
Harry was horrified, feeling as if he was attacking Mr. Weasley.
If this continues, Mr. Weasley is doomed to die at the hands of "him".
Life struggled before his eyes, flickering like a candle.
With a loud noise, the picture ends here, and the consciousness goes through countless shuttles, everything seems to be pulled into a thin line.
Opening his eyes suddenly, sweating profusely, Harry was panting violently. That "dream" consumed him tremendously, and the blood of killing was still affecting his consciousness.
Ron was watching him with concern, and Harry slowly came back to consciousness. He had to go to see Dumbledore and tell him the dream just now, because everything might be happening now!
