After HP shared the dream, Lao Fu was conquered by me

The next day, Harry got up very early. He still held Lamia in his hand and quietly took her out the door.

The gate to the playground was locked, and Harry jumped through it and walked forward on the dry grass. The playground was as empty as the surrounding streets.

He came to where the swings were, found a swing that had not been destroyed yet, sat on it, held the chain with one arm, and looked at the ground with melancholy eyes.

Lamia was placed in his pocket, and at this moment she poked her head out. She could feel the sadness in Harry, but there was nothing Lamia could do. She was afraid that this sadness could only be resolved when they went to the Burrow in a few days.

Harry had no desire to hide in the Dursleys' flower bed anymore. Tomorrow, he would have to find another way to eavesdrop on the news.

The scar on Harry's forehead often stung and was very uncomfortable, but he knew that no one would be very interested in it.

In the past, bouts of pain from his scar had been a sign that Voldemort's power was growing stronger again, but now that Voldemort had returned, they would probably remind him that such regular bouts of pain were to be expected, nothing to worry about, and no longer news.

This was so unfair. Harry's resentment kept piling up, and he really wanted to roar out loud. If it weren't for him, no one would even know that Voldemort was back!

And what he got in return was to be trapped in Little Whinging for four weeks, completely cut off from the wizarding world, and forced to hunker down among dying begonias just to hear about the budgies water-skiing!

How could Dumbledore have forgotten him so easily? Why had Ron and Hermione gotten together without him?

Harry was furious, and the swing was about to fly into the sky with his movements. Lamia hooked her claws tightly on Harry's pocket to prevent herself from falling from the sky.

Before I knew it, it was noon. A hot and dry noon had arrived. The air was filled with the smell of hot hay. The only sound I could hear was the muffled sound of vehicles coming from the road outside the playground railings.

Harry didn't know how long he sat on the swing before the sound of other people talking interrupted his thoughts. He looked up and saw a group of figures walking across the playground. One of them was humming a vulgar song loudly, and the others were laughing.

There was also a slight dinging sound coming from the expensive racing cars they were pushing.

Harry knew who those people were. Leading the way was undoubtedly his cousin Dudley Dursley, walking home with his gang of friends.

No wonder Aunt Petunia prepared so many delicious foods last night. It turned out that Dudley was going to bring his friends over for lunch today. Harry became even more annoyed and decided not to go back at noon.

Lamia stuck her head out and saw the tall and strong figure. Dudley had strictly controlled his diet over the past year, and with the addition of a new talent he had developed, his physique had improved significantly.

Uncle Vernon happily told everyone that Dudley had recently become the Southeastern Junior Heavyweight Interscholastic Boxing Champion, and this "noble sport" as Uncle Vernon called it made Dudley even more formidable.

The neighborhood children were all afraid of Dudley, even more than they were of "Potter Boy," who, they had been warned, was an incorrigible rascal who was being disciplined at St. Bruce's Secure School for Young Offenders.