Rebirth of the Harry Potter

This century trial is over.

Other wizards have left.

Sirius Black is already a completely free wizard.

He couldn't remember how he got on the elevator and huddled up with a dozen wizards, and how he got to the ground.

His mind was muddled.

He didn't know what to do and where to go.

It's been too long in Azkaban, and Sirius Black is on the verge of going crazy even if he's not driven crazy.

When he escaped from Azkaban, there was still another goal: to find Peter the Wormtail and get revenge.

And now, Peter the Wormtail has got the retribution he deserves and enjoys the rest of his life in Azkaban.

Sirius Black regained his freedom.

So he was lost.

This is the consequence of being too free.

Even Sirius Black had a strange, dangerous thought in his mind-he wanted to return to Azkaban, curled up in the corner of a dark, dark cell, watching the dementors floating in front of the cell.

Occasionally taken care of by Dementors, the feeling that the soul is drawn is so familiar, as if carved into the depths of the soul, so...it is memorable.

Sirius shuddered, not knowing how he had this idea.

He stepped out of the dilapidated red phone booth.

Holding a wand in his hand, this is his wand, which has been seized by the Ministry of Magic for more than ten years, but it has not been destroyed. Because Sirius Black is an evil black wizard, he has committed heinous sins.

So his wand is of historical significance, so he was fortunate to be thrown in the warehouse and eat ash.

Now, he is back in his hands again.

He looked at the familiar and unfamiliar streets of London, pedestrians, beetle cars, somehow.

In the underground courtroom, he saw Dumbledore and Harry. After the wanted case was over, follow them. But when the verdict was pronounced, the two of them disappeared immediately.

Sirius looked up at the gray sky, and it was dizzy for only a moment.

"The sky in London is still the same." Sirius murmured.

He raised his wand in front of his eyes and opened his mouth, ah for a long time. No spell was pronounced.

One is because he hasn't used magic for too long and his head is a bit rusty.

The second is that he wants phantoms to appear, but he doesn’t know where to go and where to go.

He is a person who is out of touch with the Muggle society and the wizarding society.

Sirius sighed heavily, and suddenly thought of a place where he could go now.

Sirius walked out of this secluded alleyway with a phone booth.

A black Porsche 356A car with a license plate of 43-68 drove past Sirius and nearly hit him. But the two men in black sitting in the car were cold-faced and looked ahead. They didn't mean to apologize for parking. Sirius shook his head and didn't care.

He looked at a corner cafe diagonally opposite the alley in front of him, his eyes puzzled. Just now he seemed to see a familiar figure flashing by the glass.

But looking back, it was just a few ladies in hats enjoying their afternoon tea.

Probably an illusion, Sirius Black thought so.

He dragged a heavy foot towards some place.

A tall man like a bodybuilder blocked his way.

Sirius stared tightly and immediately held the wand.

The man with the tendon in front said, "Hey man, are you okay."

Sirius stared blankly, wondering what this Muggle meant and why he blocked his way.

The muscular man thought Sirius was still a deaf man. He shook his head sympathetically, reached into his pocket, touched it, and found a five-pound note: "I think you need some help."

Then, Sirius hadn't reacted yet, and he had more money in his hand.

After stuffing the money, the muscular man was in a good mood and left with a whistle.

Sirius unfolded the crumpled paper money, which was a woman with a crown and elegant appearance.

If Sirius remembered correctly, what was this Muggle called? When he and his younger brother Regulus were young, they also broke into Buckingham Palace to scare her.

But why did the Muggle man give him money? Do Muggles like to do this now?

When Sirius took another two steps and passed a clothing store, a mirror stood in the closet. From the mirror, he saw what he was like and understood why others would give him money.

Although the clothes are clean, they are more twisted than the banknotes in his hand. The hair is messy. The beard does not know how long it has not been shaved. It grows wantonly. The most important thing is the eyes. It is not angry at all, very gray.

His desolate appearance is exactly the same as the begging tramp he had seen on the streets of London. It should be said that it is more vivid. If the beggars all over London are begging together, Sirius's results will certainly be among the best. (Author: This sentence appeared?)

Sirius looked at the money in his hand, but it was a bit ridiculous, but it also made him see himself clearly. It turns out that he looks like this in the eyes of others. Of course, Sirius does not want to make himself like this.

Although he can't be energetic at once, as he did 13 years ago, this idea of ​​his willingness to change has driven away some of his dead air.

He walked fast.

When passing by a bakery, a tantalizing sweet smell came.

Sirius shrugged his nose and groaned in his stomach.

He felt hungry.

Knowing that today's court session, he was so excited yesterday that he didn't eat good food.

Now he wants to eat something.

He had just stepped up the stairs and had not entered the house. A young girl in uniform was disgusted and waved her hand.

"I want to buy something." Sirius said.

The girl looked at Sirius suspiciously and asked uncomfortably: "Do you have money?"

Sirius handed the money over, and the girl picked up the paper money and looked at it positively and negatively, wanting to check if there was anything dirty on it.

But she was disappointed. Although the paper money was crumpled, it was very new.

She said impatiently: "What do you want?"

Sirius pointed to a loaf and said, "I want that."

The girl quickly put the bread in a paper bag and took it to the cash desk.

The girl at the cash register found another £3 coin for Sirius.

Sirius took a two-foot long bean paste-filled bread just taken out of the oven and took a bite, and took another sip of cheap milk tea, mumbling: "This is your tip."

He pushed the money to the cashier girl who had been smiling, and gave a vague glance to the girl who received him.

Then walked out of the shop.

The girl who looked down on Sirius almost vomited blood with this look, and a voice came from the house: "You see what he means, who do you think these rare pounds, maybe the money was picked up from the ground... …"

...

Sirius walked for another 20 minutes after walking past Kings Cross Station.

Finally reached the destination.

At this time he was already in the northwest area of ​​London, England.

This is a huge and lively square called Grimmauld Place.

Surrounded by world brand stores and large supermarket chains, inside the square, there are many young people playing skateboarding and fitness.

Sirius crossed the grass in the square, crossed the road, and walked to the sidewalk.

He exhaled slowly, straightening his chest, remembering the place he had never been back to since he ran away from home when he was 16 years old in 1976: 12 Grimo Place.

"Cough...squeak...boom...boom..."

The endless noises came out, but no one outside the Muggles heard, what should they do.

On the left side of Sirius, is 11 Grimmauld Place, and on his right, is 13 Grimmauld Place.

The Muggles living here have always had a doubt~www.ltnovel.com~Where is the house number 12? But even the developers here cannot answer this question.

When Sirius thought of that place, the twelfth appeared.

If the Muggles can see this scene, they will definitely think that they are watching a movie: it is between the 11th and 13th houses, a crack is suddenly split, the gap starts to expand rapidly, and a broken and tattered door is out of thin air Appeared, then dirty walls, spooky windows... The modern buildings on both sides were squeezed like sponges, lined up, and finally a huge building shrouded in the shadows appeared in front of Sirius.

Sirius hesitated and walked towards the door.

...

Note: At the time of writing, I do not know who is printed on the £5 note. Baidu, Baidu said, born in 1926, I have a doubt, who wrote this Baidu? It's too inaccurate to just write the birthday.

Then, I suddenly realized the problem. The woman printed on the pound was still very healthy...

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