029 Failed Conversation (Part 1)

Anyway, Harry finally decided to follow Hermione's advice and talk to Bryan Watson; otherwise, he probably wouldn't have to wait until the monster in the Chamber of Secrets petrified someone again. He didn't want to be driven mad by strange looks and terrible rumors.

He went back to the dormitory, changed into clean clothes, and smoothed his hair in front of the mirror because it would make him look less rebellious.

"You're wasting your time, my dear!" said the mirror inlaid with gold patterns in the dormitory, in a wheezing voice.

"Thank you for the reminder!" Harry responded with an annoyed expression.

Harry made a special trip to Mr. Watson's office at dinnertime because that way, he wouldn't have to face too many schadenfreude looks on the way. However, when he went down to the third floor, he still bumped into the castle administrator, Argus Filch.

Filch seemed to have just cried a lot. His big bulging eyes were red and watery, and the snot hanging from his ugly nose was already dragging to his double chin. When he found Harry, he immediately restrained himself. Instead of looking embarrassed, he stared at him fiercely like a wounded hyena.

"Someone will get what they deserve, Potter, and it won't be long!"

"What do you mean, Mr. Filch?"

Harry's voice was weak, as if someone had strangled him, and he desperately wanted to figure out what Filch meant. Unfortunately, Filch stared at him, sneered, and left directly.

Filch had gone to report him, there was no doubt about it.

Harry couldn't lie to himself that this wasn't the case. His heart was pounding, and he wanted to run away because he was afraid that the investigator had accepted Filch's identification. If that happened, going to the office on his own would be self-inflicted.

But in the end, he knocked on the door of Watson's office because the other party was a ruthless person who could fight Dumbledore in the fifth grade. If he made up his mind to send Harry to prison, except for Headmaster Dumbledore, Harry couldn't think of anyone capable of saving him.

After getting permission to enter, the door of the office opened by itself. Harry stood at the door, looking around the room in fear, afraid that a rope would fly over and tie him up in a second.

Except for Headmaster Dumbledore's distinctive round office, Mr. Watson's office is the largest one Harry has ever seen. Of course, there is nothing surprising about it because it itself was transformed from a classroom.

The fireplace in the wall on the side of the window made the room warm. On the innermost side were desks, bookshelves, and a simple bed. There was some strange smell in the air, as if Mr. Watson had been brewing potions in the room.

The most interesting thing in the room is the wall on the right hand side of the door. The entire wall is covered by a huge black curtain, and behind the curtain, one can faintly see shimmering lights. For some reason, Harry suddenly thought of the Muggle world. Although they never took him to the movies when they were at the Dursleys, Harry had seen them on TV a few times.

"So, are you going to stand there and talk to me, Mr. Potter?" Bryan behind the desk smiled gently.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Mr. Watson." Harry quickly closed the door and walked in. He still hesitated to explain on the way to the desk, "I'm just curious about that wall."

"Understandable," Bryan said with a smile. He beckoned Harry to sit down, and he went to the fireplace to make tea.

"I don't have any good drinks to entertain you. If you don't mind, let's have some tea, Mr. Potter—"

When Bryan was walking back with tea, Harry was again attracted by the framed mirror on Mr. Watson's desk. In the photo was a very old woman and Mr. Watson, a group photo. The old woman is probably an elder who is close to Mr. Watson.

To Harry's surprise, Mr. Watson, who was about Percy's age in the photo, looked a little off.

"Thank you."

When Harry took the hot tea, he quickly glanced at Mr. Watson's slightly haggard face, and then he understood why he felt something was wrong.

Because Mr. Watson in the photo had brown eyes similar to Hermione's when she was a student, but the investigator standing in front of him had wonderful lavender eyes.

Is it the effect of magic? Harry guessed in a daze, but then he woke up. Now is not the time to think about it.

"Are you wondering why the color of my eyes is not quite right?"

Bryan leaned on the back of the chair with a cup of tea in his hand. The hazy mist made his expression a little fuzzy, but judging from his tone, he wasn't offended by Harry's question.

"Yeah, no!" Harry said in embarrassment.

The uneasy little wizard sitting across from him made Bryan laugh. No matter how famous Harry Potter is, and no matter how bright his future is, at least for now, the immaturity and innocence he shows still haven't broken away from Bryan's perception of him as a second-year little wizard.

"You must have met Mr. Filch just now, right?" Bryan sipped the bitter tea with a gentle voice.

When Mr. Watson began to speak, Harry suddenly recalled the sudden encounter he had with Ron and Hagrid near Professor McGonagall's office during the Christmas vacation, and Ron's evaluation of Mr. Watson afterward. It was very much like Headmaster Dumbledore. Harry didn't feel too deeply at the time, but now, he recognized Ron's view to a certain extent.

Unlike Professor Snape or Professor McGonagall, who carry a stern aura wherever they go, what makes Mr. Watson fearsome is precisely his tolerant and gentle temperament. It is brought by a natural self-confidence and a high degree of repression that makes it impossible for you to think of resisting.

"Yes, Mr. Watson, I saw Filch. He looks like he just cried a lot." Harry nodded hesitantly.

"What do you think it is for, Mr. Potter?"

Bryan asked with great interest as he blew off the floating leaves on the surface of the tea.

Harry's eyes flicked to the collar of Bryan's worn wizard robes, but he didn't speak because the question didn't need an answer.

Seeing that the atmosphere was getting better, Bryan didn't intend to scare Harry anymore. He put down the teacup and prepared to get straight to the point. However, he didn't expect that Harry, who had been silent all this time, suddenly summoned up his courage. With his shining tenacity, his emerald green eyes looked directly into Bryan's eyes.

"Mr. Watson, do you also think that I am the descendant of Slytherin? Do you think I opened the Chamber of Secrets?"

// patreon.com/FicFrenzy