Rebirth of the Harry Potter

The trial of the century is over.

The other wizards left one after another.

Sirius Black is already a free wizard.

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

His mind was muddled.

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

So long in Azkaban that Sirius Black was on the verge of, if not driven mad.

When he escaped from Azkaban, he still had a goal: to find Peter Wormtail and take revenge.

And now, Wormtail Peter has gotten what he deserved, enjoying the rest of his life in Azkaban.

And Sirius Black regained his freedom.

So he was lost.

This is the consequence of being too free.

Even, a strange and dangerous idea came to Sirius Black's mind - he wanted to go back to Azkaban, curled up in the corner of a dark and gloomy cell, and watched the dementors float around in front of the cell.

Occasionally being taken care of by the dementors, the feeling of the soul being extracted is so familiar, as if engraved into the depths of the soul, so... it is memorable.

Sirius shuddered, not knowing why he had such a thought.

He stepped out of the battered red phone booth.

He held a wand in his hand. This was his wand. It had been confiscated by the Ministry of Magic for more than ten years, but it had not been destroyed. Because he, Sirius Black, is an evil dark wizard who has committed heinous crimes.

So his wand is historically significant, and as such had the honor of being left in storage for ashes.

Now, it's back in his hands again.

He looked at the familiar and unfamiliar streets of London, pedestrians and Beetle cars, not knowing where to go.

In the basement courtroom, he meets Dumbledore and Harry. I wanted to follow them after the case was over. But I didn't expect that as soon as the sentence was pronounced, the two of them disappeared immediately.

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

"London's skies are still the same," muttered Sirius.

He held his wand in front of his eyes, opened his mouth, and ahhh for a long time. No mantra was recited.

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

Two is, he wants to Apparate, but he doesn't know where to go, where to go.

He was a man out of touch with both Muggle society and wizarding society.

Sirius sighed heavily, and suddenly thought of the only place he could go at present.

Sirius walked out of the back alley where the phone booth stood.

A black Porsche 356A with the license plate 43-68 drove past Sirius and nearly hit him. But the two men in black sitting in the car had cold faces, staring ahead, and didn't intend to stop to apologize at all. Sirius shook his head and didn't care.

He looked at a corner coffee shop diagonally across from the alley in front of him, with some doubts in his eyes, just now he seemed to have seen a familiar figure flash past by the glass.

But look again, it's just a few ladies with hats enjoying their afternoon tea.

Probably an illusion, Sirius Black thought.

He trudged toward a certain place.

A tall man who looked like a bodybuilder blocked his way.

Sirius tightened his expression, and immediately grasped the wand.

The muscular man in front of him said, "Hey man, are you okay?"

Sirius stared blankly, wondering what the Muggle meant and why he was blocking his way.

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

Then, before Sirius could react, this piece of money appeared in his hand.

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

Sirius unfolded the crumpled note, and on it was an elegant woman with a crown.

If Sirius remembers correctly, what is this Muggle's name is ****, when he and his brother Regulus were young, he broke into Buckingham Palace and frightened her.

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

When Sirius walked two more steps and passed a clothing store, there was a mirror standing in the closet. From the mirror, he saw his own image and understood why others would give him money.

Although the clothes are clean, they are twisted more than the banknotes in his hand, the hair is messy, the beard has not been shaved for some time, and grows wantonly, and the most important thing is the eyes, which are lifeless and gray.

His downcast appearance was exactly the same as the beggars he had seen on the streets of London. It should be said that it was even more vivid. If all the beggars in London begged together, Sirius would definitely be among the best in victory. (Author: Has this sentence appeared before?)

Looking at the money in his hand, Sirius was a little bit dumbfounded, but it also made him see himself clearly. It turned out that he was like this in the eyes of others. Of course, Sirius didn't want himself to become like this.

Although it was impossible for him to be full of vitality all at once, as he was thirteen years ago, this idea of ​​his voluntary change still drove away some of the dead energy in him.

He walked faster.

When passing a bakery, a tempting sweet aroma hits the nostrils.

Sirius shrugged his nose and his stomach growled.

He feels very hungry.

When he knew that the court session was going to be held today, he was so excited that he didn't have a good meal yesterday.

Now he wants to eat something.

As soon as he stepped up the steps, before he entered the room, a young girl in uniform looked disgusted inside, waved his hand, and chased him away: "Get out."

"I want to buy something," said Sirius.

The girl looked at Sirius suspiciously, and asked in an uncomfortable tone: "Are you rich?"

Sirius handed over the money, and the girl picked up the note and looked at the front and back, trying to check if there was anything dirty stuck on it.

But she was disappointed. Although the banknotes were wrinkled, they were very new.

"What do you want?" she said impatiently.

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

The girl hurriedly put the bread into a paper bag and took it to the cash register.

The cashier girl finds another £3 coin for Sirius.

Sirius took a mouthful of the two-foot-long bean paste bread just out of the oven, took another sip of the complimentary cheap milk tea, and muttered, "This is your tip."

Then he pushed the money to the smiling cashier girl, and cast a faint glance at the girl who received him.

Then walk out of the store.

The girl who looked down on Sirius almost vomited blood from the look, and a voice came from the room: "What does he mean by that, who does he think is so precious about these few pounds, maybe the money was picked up from the ground... ..."

...

After Sirius walked past King's Cross station, he walked for another 20 minutes or so.

Finally arrived at the destination.

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

Here is a lively huge square called Grimmauld Place.

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

Sirius walked across the grass in the square, across the street, and onto the sidewalk.

He exhaled slowly, straightened his chest, and thought of the place he had never returned to since he ran away from home in 1976 at the age of 16: 12 Grimmauld Place.

"Crack...squeak...boom...boom..."

There were continuous noises, but none of the Muggles outside heard them, so what should they do.

To Sirius' left is 11 Grimmauld Place, and to his right is 13 Grimmauld Place.

The Muggles who live here have always wondered, where is house number 12? But even the developers here can't answer that question.

When Sirius thought of that place, Twelve appeared.

If Muggles could see this scene, they would definitely think they were watching a movie: between houses No. 11 and No. 13, a crack suddenly opened, and the gap began to expand rapidly, and a broken door appeared out of thin air. Appeared, followed by dirty walls, gloomy windows... The modern buildings on both sides were squeezed flat like sponges, lined up, and finally a huge building shrouded in shadow appeared in front of Sirius.

Sirius hesitated, then walked to the door.

...

Note: As I write, I don't know who is on the £5 note. Baidu, Baidu said ****, born in 1926, I have a doubt, who wrote this Baidu? It's too inaccurate to write only the date of birth.

Then, I suddenly realized the problem. It turned out that the woman printed on the pound was still healthy...

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