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

"It has nothing to do with me! I saved Dudley!" Harry said loudly. He never thought that he was always misunderstood even though he had done a good thing.

"You little brat, who told you to talk to me like that!" Uncle Vernon wanted to grab Harry's collar, but Lamia stood in front of him. He could only take a few steps back and point his fat finger at Harry.

"Tell me, who did it? I want to know the truth!"

"It's Voldemort," said Harry. He wanted to see the Dursleys panic, but unfortunately, they had no idea how terrifying Voldemort was.

"W-wait a minute," said Uncle Vernon, his face screwed up and realization slowly came into his little piggy eyes. "I've heard of that name. He's the one who-"

"The ones who killed my mum and dad, yes," Harry said dryly.

"But he's gone," said Uncle Vernon impatiently, giving no sign that the murder of Harry's parents was a painful subject. "Some big fella said so. He's gone."

"He's back again," Harry said heavily.

It was a very strange feeling, standing in Aunt Petunia's kitchen, which was as pristine as an operating room, next to the top-of-the-line refrigerator and the ultra-wide-screen TV, talking calmly with Uncle Vernon about Voldemort.

It was dark outside. The Dementors' visit to Little Whinging today seemed to have broken down an invisible wall between the cold, non-magical world of Privet Drive and the other world.

The two different lives in this world seem to have merged together, and everything is messed up.

The Dursleys were asking for details about the wizarding world, Mrs. Figg actually knew Dumbledore, and Dementors were floating over Little Whinging. It all sounded so outrageous.

Not only Harry couldn't accept it, even Lamia who came halfway was shocked.

"Back?" Aunt Petunia asked in a low voice.

She looked at Harry in a way she had never looked at him before, and suddenly Lamia was fully aware for the first time that Aunt Petunia was Harry's mother's sister, without Harry having mentioned it to her.

It seemed that Lamia and Harry were not the only two people in the room who vaguely realized what Voldemort's return meant. Aunt Petunia had never looked at Harry like this in her life. Her large light eyes were no longer narrowed with disgust and anger, but were wide open and full of fear.

Not to mention Lamia, even Harry, who had lived with Aunt Petunia for so long, had never seen such a look.

All his life, Harry had watched Aunt Petunia fiercely maintain the illusion that magic didn't exist, that there was no world other than the one she and Uncle Vernon inhabited, and now that illusion seemed to be fading.

"Yes," said Harry, now addressing Aunt Petunia directly, "he came back a month ago. I saw him."

Aunt Petunia's hands groped for Dudley's broad, leather-jacketed shoulders and held on tightly.

"Wait a minute," said Uncle Vernon, looking from his wife to Harry and back to his wife again, as if bewildered by the sudden and unprecedented mutual understanding that had arisen between them.

"Wait, you mean, that guy named Voldemort is back?"

"Yes."

"The man who killed your parents?"

"Yes."

"Now he's sending Dementors after you?"

"It seems so," said Harry.

"I see," said Uncle Vernon, looking from his wife's pale face to Harry, and pulling his trousers up.

He seemed to be shaking, his large purple face stretching out before Harry's eyes. "Well, that's all settled now."

He took a deep breath, his shirt front tensing. "You can get out of this house now, boy!"

"What?" Harry asked, confused and a little angry.

"I told you—get out!" roared Uncle Vernon, causing even Aunt Petunia and Dudley to jump. "Get out! Get out! I should have done this years ago! The owls have used this place as a sanatorium, the puddings are exploding, half the living room is trashed, Dudley has grown a tail, Marge is floating on the ceiling—get out! Get out! You've had enough! It's time you quit! You can't stay here if there's some lunatic chasing you. You can't threaten my wife and son, you can't cause us any trouble. If you're going to follow the same path as your worthless parents, I've had enough! Get out!"

From the beginning, Uncle Vernon had never spoken so loudly to Harry in front of Lamia. He was afraid of Lamia, but this time, his intention was clearly to drive Lamia and Harry away together.

Harry stood rooted to the spot, the letters from the Ministry of Magic and Mr. Weasley clasped in his left hand.

"Whatever you do, don't ever leave that house again. Don't ever leave your aunt and uncle's house."

More than one person had demanded that Harry not leave the house, but now he was being evicted.

"You heard me!" Uncle Vernon leaned forward now, his broad, purple face so close to Harry's that Harry could feel his spittle spraying onto his face.

"Go! Weren't you eager to leave half an hour ago? I support you! Get out and never defile the threshold of our house again! I really don't understand why we kept you in the first place? Maggie was right, we should have sent you to an orphanage. We were too soft-hearted and ended up hurting ourselves. We thought we could eradicate the evil root in you and turn you into a normal person, but we didn't expect that you were hopeless from the beginning. I've had enough - Owl!"

"I'm sorry, sir, I'm afraid Harry and I will have to stay here for at least a week." Lamia stood up. Harry was already scared silly. It was the first time that Uncle Vernon was so scary.

"I told you to get out of here right now—" Uncle Vernon hadn't finished his words when Lamia waved her hand and threw his clumsy body out as if someone had grabbed it by the neck.

"Ah - damn freaks! You can't stay here, this is my house!" Uncle Vernon shouted angrily, but he could not resist the magic and could only let himself be thrown into the garbage dump.

"Well, ma'am, I've said everything I had to say. Harry must stay here, at least for now," Lamia said briefly.

But Aunt Petunia ignored Lamia and turned to Harry. "You must stay in your room," she said. "You are not allowed to leave the house. Now go to bed."

Harry didn't move.

"Why aren't you moving?" Aunt Petunia snapped. "I told you to get in bed!"

"I haven't finished yet..."

"Go to bed!"

"Did you hear what your aunt said? Go to bed!" Uncle Vernon walked in with a few rotten vegetable leaves on his head, and he smelled terrible.

Harry and Lamia walked into the dark bedroom together. Harry came to the desk and wanted to write something, but he didn't start writing.

He paced back and forth, his heart filled with anger and frustration, his teeth chattering, his fists clenched, and every time he passed the window, he cast an angry look out at the empty night sky with twinkling stars.

Dementors were sent to capture him, Mrs Figg and Mundungus Fletcher were stalking him, he had been suspended from Hogwarts and was to stand trial at the Ministry of Magic – and still no one had told him what had happened.

And why was he still trapped here, with no news? Why was everyone treating him like a naughty child? Stop doing magic and stay in that house? He gave his school trunk a good kick as he passed it, but instead of easing his anger, it made it worse. Now, not only did he have to endure the pain elsewhere in his body, but his toes were also aching.

Lamia was watching Harry's every move. As a friend, she should comfort Harry at this time, but Lamia did not intend to do so. She could not tell the truth to Harry. This was what Dumbledore asked her to do.