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Why Harry Was So Sick Of Being Lied

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There he was again, staring out a window. This time, Harry was watching the suburban empire from which he had narrowly escaped, fly past in a dizzying blur. The bus was small and oddly smelled of raisins, but he was on his way. He had managed to elude Petunia’s hawk-like watch on him and prevail against all odds. In his hand, he still tightly clutched the locket, half afraid it would suddenly slip through his fingers. Quite honestly, it wouldn’t surprise him if it did. In the wizarding world, anything was possible. Which was sometimes an unprecedented problem. Through the hexes and curses, riddles and potions, it could be hard to know what to believe. Harry was so sick of being lied to. It was an infuriating game of tag and chase. Every …show more content…

Strangely though, Petunia was still sitting at the table. Almost expectantly, like she was waiting for something. Noticing Harry still standing there, she gave him a nasty glare. “What are you still doing here, boy?” The malice in her tone was evident, as always. Harry sighed and left. Though he tried to ignore it, Harry couldn’t help but remain curious over Petunia’s peculiar anxiety. Lying awake in bed, he listened. The house was quiet for the longest time, aside from the low hum of the television. Then, Harry heard the phone ring. Petunia must’ve jumped up suddenly, because he heard her chair scrape against the floor. Petunia hissed into the phone urgently. Swiftly slinking out of bed, Harry carefully opened his door. Edging along the hallway, he moved until Petunia’s voice was just around the corner. “Yes. I have it. I’ve had it ever since Lily died. No. Lily’s pensieve is safe. I understand. It remains in the package hidden in the kitchen. It’s inside an empty jar on a topmost shelf.” Harry had gone pale. His mother’s memories were in this very house, just within his grasp. And now, he knew exactly where they were. “Listen, I don’t want to be in any part of this… None of this was supposed to happen… that was an accident…” Harry was already dashing back to the cupboard. He hardly got any sleep that night. Thoughts of what this pensieve could possibly hold, kept him up. But why did Petunia have it? Harry

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