Rebirth of the Harry Potter

Sirius Black stepped up the battered stone steps, frowning at the newly conjured door.

"Why did the old house become like this? Isn't this the place they are most proud of?"

The black paint on the door was peeling off, covered with scratches from left to right, the silver knocker was in the shape of a coiled snake, there was no keyhole on the door, and there was no letter box that Muggles had in every household.

This door can only be opened by magic.

Sirius drew his wand and knocked on the door.

There was no response for a long time, just when Sirius thought that the protection spell of the house was broken, or the magic of opening the door had been changed.

The house finally reacted, and there were a lot of loud sounds of metal hitting and rattling sounds like chain sliding.

The dark door creaked open.

Sirius stepped over the threshold into the almost dark hall.

He smelled damp and dusty and sweet and rotten.

The place felt like an abandoned empty house, a perfect haunted house for Muggles, not the mansion of the Black family, the noblest, oldest and most famous pure-blood wizarding family in the wizarding world.

Sirius closed the front door smoothly, and the corridor at this section of the gate was so dark that he couldn't see his fingers, only the faint light could be seen at the end of the corridor.

There was an ominous feeling about the house, like walking into a house full of unseen ghosts.

For Sirius, this kind of room that makes wizards feel uncomfortable, he doesn't feel at all.

A wizard who has lived in Azkaban for thirteen years, you tell him about haunted houses?

Sirius slammed his wand against the wall, and there were a few flashes of light, and a row of old-fashioned gas lamps on the wall came on, casting a dangling, unreal light.

The light illuminated the peeling wallpaper and worn carpet in the long, spooky foyer, and overhead a cobweb chandelier flickered as if it was about to burn.

Age-blackened portraits hung crookedly on the walls, and chandeliers and candelabra on a rickety table nearby were shaped like serpents.

See those portrait photos with spider webs.

Blake couldn't help a sneer from the corner of his mouth.

He would never forget that these portraits told him about the supremacy of pure-blood wizards when he was a child, and that his mother always cleaned up these photos carefully, saying that they represented the glory of the Black family.

He walked past two long curtains full of insect eyes, a little puzzled, because he remembered that there was no door here before. He didn't push the door open, and he'll be thankful for that later.

He skirted a large umbrella stand made from one of the troll's broken legs. The big umbrella stand leaned against the stairs leading to the second floor, and he walked up the wooden stairs handrail.

He was in a very complicated mood at this time, with memories, sadness, ridicule, and guilt.

Every corner he saw, he could recall what had happened, such as this staircase, where he and his younger brother had fought up and down countless times, which made his mother furious.

But now, I can only remember.

Things are different, Sirius couldn't help sighing in his heart.

In the stairwells on the first and second floors, there are unique ornaments on the walls, which are a row of dry house-elf heads.

Sirius knew that these were the heads of the house elves who had served the Black family all their lives. The house elves of the Black family were proud to hang their heads here after death. There was a particularly annoying elf named Kreacher in the family. What it has been thinking about all day long is to be like his mother, whose head was cut off after death and hung here to dry.

Blake reached the second floor and walked down the dimly lit landing.

As soon as he stepped into the second floor, a dazzling sun appeared in front of him, which was countless times brighter than the first floor.

The living room on the second floor was Sirius' favorite place to stay when he was a child. Before he could see what the second floor is now abandoned, Sirius couldn't help but think of the former living room in his mind: the living room is very gorgeous and exquisite, with a big The windows overlooked the street outside the house, through which Sirius liked to observe the Muggles outside, and there was a large fireplace flanked by two gorgeous glass cabinets filled with the most worthy of showing off the Black family. , and one wall is covered with a tapestry of the Black family tree genealogy.

Even Regulus, whom his mother loves the most, is not allowed to touch the family tree tapestry, otherwise he will be punished.

When Sirius got used to the suddenly brighter light and saw the living room clearly, he couldn't help but widen his eyes.

The living room was indeed dirty and messy. The curtains of the window were drawn on both sides. Standing far away, Sirius could see that the surface of the curtains was covered with little fox worms, and there was a nest of dead velvet in the corner of the sofa. There was a thick layer of dust on the carpet.

only……

Sirius said in shock: "Harry, why are you here?"

On the desk that had obviously been cleaned by magic, Harry was sitting sideways, with the sun shining on him, his eyebrows seemed to have turned golden. Moreover, Kreacher, the wimpy elf who always scolded him behind his back, was bending over, holding the teapot in both hands, carefully pouring Harry a cup of hot tea.

Even at this moment when he was shocked by the fact that Harry appeared here, Sirius couldn't help being a little jealous of Kreacher's attitude - Kreacher had never been so respectful to him since he was a child. Even if Kreacher obeyed his orders forever, he would definitely curse and curse.

Kreacher was now a very old house-elf, barely naked save for a dirty rag round his waist.

His head was bald, with a mass of white hair growing out of his two large bat-like ears, his eyes were bloodshot, gray, and his fleshy nose was huge, like a pig's.

Obviously seeing the sole heir of the Black family return to the old house, Kreacher should kneel down to greet him, but he pretended not to see it.

He suddenly yelled in panic, with a hoarse and deep voice like a bullfrog: "Pour tea to the most distinguished guest, I should have washed my hands ten times, but I forgot, only washed eight times, Kreacher's mind is broken , it’s really useless.”

Kreacher clenched his big hand into a fist and hammered his head hard, crying and apologizing.

Harry smiled faintly: "It's okay, Kreacher."

"You go down first, I want to have a few words with your master."

"You are so tolerant." Kreacher kowtowed, thanking Dade and retreating.

When he came to the confused Sirius, Kreacher still didn't look at Sirius. He suddenly raised his voice and said seriously: "Although this sloppy wizard whose name Kreacher doesn't even want to remember is Kreacher's master, But Kreacher definitely didn't have the slightest expectation and joy, and please know this."

Sirius:"……"

"Harry, you..." Sirius didn't know what to say.

Harry said, "There are two things..."

Before Sirius could react, Harry had already raised his wand, a surge of magic power exploded in the room, and a pale green light flew out from the end of the wand, hitting Sirius on the head.

Sirius rolled his eyes, and fell heavily on the dirty carpet, dust churning.

Harry flicked his wand, and a gust of wind swept the dust from the room together.

After a while, Sirius, who seemed dead on the ground, suddenly opened his eyes.

He stood up, feeling relaxed, as if his mind became clearer, his thinking became sharper, and some forgotten memories suddenly appeared.

It seemed that I was chained all over my body before, but now I broke a few chains, and it was like a broken and leaky wooden barrel, with several holes blocked.

"What kind of magic is this?" Sirius asked curiously.

Harry said, "Anti-Avada Kedavra."

"The Avada Kedavra curse hurts people's souls, so I reversed this magic and invented another magic that can heal people's souls."

"You created a whole new magic?" Sirius exclaimed, "Or through the Unforgivable Curse."

Harry said indifferently, "Nothing."

He frowned: "It seems that this magic can't completely repair your broken soul. You are the first victim of this magic... Er... The experiencer, I didn't know how effective it is in healing the soul before, I'm sorry. But it's okay, I also learned more than a dozen soul-related repair magic from the restricted area, let's try one by one."

"What?" Sirius Black was still struggling with whether the first experiencer Harry mentioned meant he was Mouse No. 1, when Harry pointed his wand at him again, and a white light shot out, rushing towards his body head.

"Boom."

Sirius fell to the ground again.

After a while, Sirius got up again.

Before he could say anything, Harry's eyes lit up, and he said, "It seems that these magics have a certain effect. I have already noticed that your soul is slightly complete."

So, another blue magic rushed to Sirius.

"Boom."

fall down……

wake up, get up again...

black light.

"Boom."

fall down……

wake up, get up again...

Colorful spells emanated frantically from the tip of Harry's wand as if they did not consume mana.

Red orange yellow green blue blue purple...

Take turns.

"Okay, okay..." Finally, Sirius shouted: "I feel like something is full in my brain and it's about to explode."

Only then did Harry stop, looked at the state of Sirius' soul, and said, "It is indeed full."

So put away the wand.

...

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