The Death Knell

The breakfast at the Leaky Cauldron was extremely unpalatable, incomparable to the quality of Hogwarts. Even Harry always felt that the food here tasted like rag.

But he hadn't tasted an egg for three days.

Therefore, no matter how terrible the meal was, he still ate it happily and drank two large glasses of milk.

Compared with when he first came to the Leaky Cauldron and was watched like a rare animal by the guests, now Harry felt like a pedestrian on the roadside. No one paid attention to him at all. At most, they only looked at him from a distance. A lightning scar on his forehead, that's all.

The adult wizards who were drinking here didn't know if they had been drinking since last night or if they came here specifically to drink early in the morning. Harry could only hear that their current topics were all about Hermione Granger.

In one year, he took courses from seven colleges and got excellent grades in all of them. This was something that even Dumbledore had never done. The Daily Prophet seemed to have been bribed, playing tricks on Miss Granger.

Some well-connected wizards even brought several foreign newspapers, including the New York Ghost, to publicize Hermione's contribution to the development of friendship among the young generation in various countries.

Not to mention that some rumors in the school have also spread into the wizarding world. Now people generally believe that she is like the reincarnation of Ms. Ravenclaw and the hope of Britain's future.

Harry had no idea what was going on. How could one person go to school in seven places at the same time?

He asked Sirius who was eating a sandwich next to him. The other person obviously knew what he relied on, but it was just inconvenient to tell Harry. The deliberate change of the topic made Sirius's expression look very funny:

"Ahem, no, um, there will be the Quidditch World Cup finals in a few days. Do you want to go and watch it?"

"Of course, Godfather." Harry knew it and didn't ask again.

After eating, he entered Diagon Alley from the patio behind the bar. Harry had walked this familiar road several times. Returning to the magical world made him feel like he was alive.

But this time, the godfather took him to a store that he had not been to in the past few years, which was the Wilson Alchemy Automatic Wand Store next to Ollivander's Wand Store.

There are many reasons for not going in. On the one hand, Harry has grown up in a Muggle family. He is familiar with guns. He feels that gun stores are not something that children should go to, and they are all consumer fraud, right? Talk about a gun being an automatic wand…

What's more, this is a shop run by a professor. Students are always afraid of teachers. No one wants to be caught by professors giving lectures during the holidays.

But what surprised Harry was that when he opened the door and looked inside, not only Professor Wilson, but also many teachers from Hogwarts were here today.

Dumbledore was holding up a pistol and looking into the muzzle with interest; while Professor McGonagall was scolding several store clerks, with a look of hatred on his face; Snape was sitting in the corner of the store, keeping his expression straight. Expressionless; Professor Flitwick was talking to Professor Wilson behind the counter, but because he was too short, he could not be seen at all and could only hear his voice.

Harry found that the Ron family was also here, most of them, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, plus Ron and Ginny. The two students seemed very uncomfortable in this situation, but Mr. Weasley was holding a child in his arms. I can't put it down with the assault rifle.

"Go ahead, I'll talk to the principal and the others."

Sirius pushed Harry's back and motioned for him to go and play with his classmates, but Harry had longed for this. He saw Ron biting his pen and writing a reply to him, with Hedwig standing on his shoulder. He had discovered Harry earlier.

"Why are you here too?"

Harry walked over, greeted Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, and then leaned close to Ron's ear.

Ron spread his hands in distress, and he took the opportunity to tear the letter into pieces: "I was just planning to write you a reply to ask about this matter. I was caught by my mother early this morning and stuffed into the fireplace without saying a word. I I'm still fainting now."

"The godfather told me that he was going to attend his brother's funeral."

Harry said hello to Ginny after answering the question, but the little girl just smiled politely. She was still looking in the direction of the door, as if expecting Hermione to come in.

Ron rolled his eyes and huddled in his chair boredly: "But I have never heard that my family is so close to the Black family. You know, we are hostile to most pure-blood lunatics."

"I don't know this, but I know I'm going to be driven crazy at home." Harry squeezed in next to Ron, and the two sat on a chair next to each other: "Is there anything fun here? You take the wizard Are you done playing? I think the adults still want to chat for a while."

Ron seemed to be reminded. He pulled Harry to his feet, not forgetting to grab his sister:

"I almost forgot, our family was the first to arrive. I asked Professor Wilson, and he said that when you come we can go to the basement to play. There is a shooting range, just like Miss Granger's special shooting range at school. I I don’t quite understand where that place is, but the professor said you know how to play, shall we go there?”

Harry was terrible at it. He had seen other people shoot guns on TV, but he had never touched such a thing.

But immediately, a slave worker who was a Gryffindor student and had been taught by Professor McGonagall to be unable to hold his head high came over and offered to provide guidance to the juniors.

So Harry was also moved, and after asking for permission from his professor and godfather, he took Ron and Ginny to the basement to play.

In the dark corner of the basement, there was a bald old man with a smile on his face. He was very strange, but when they were playing with guns, he placed an iron armor spell on them to protect their safety.

Harry didn't pay attention to the person who looked like a custodian or guard. He knew that the pistol was relatively easy to use, so under the guidance of the store clerk, he started playing with it decently.

After fighting for a while, he finally hit the human-shaped paper target with great difficulty and waved the gun in his hand happily:

"Ron! Look! This thing is much easier to use than a wand!"

"Awesome! Let me try it too."

The red-haired boy felt his blood surge just by hearing the gunfire, and he could no longer control his hands.

........................................

"Looks like you've made a decision."

Su Ming approached Sirius and handed him a cigarette, and the two began to smoke. Almost at the same time, another slave worker who had been scolded by Professor McGonagall took the opportunity to escape and brought an ashtray.

"Yes, we had a meeting, and the principal and I both approved your method. After all, everything has risks." Sirius took a long drag on the cigarette, his face was very troubled: "I know some Muggles. Knowledge, when they get sick, they will go to experts for a treatment called 'surgery', and this is also a way to cure diseases and save lives."

Su Ming smiled and nodded. That's enough for now, and then we'll wait for the opportunity of the Goblet of Fire.

He patted Sirius on the arm: "Wait for Lupin and the others who are late. I think we can settle Regulus before twelve o'clock noon."

Sirius rubbed his face hard: "Are you sure that burying him in a Muggle cemetery is the best option?"

"Of course, after all, the thief who stole the body has not been caught yet, and wizard cemeteries are not safe now. What place is more reliable than a Muggle church close to your home?"

Su Ming slowly exhaled a puff of smoke, and the smile on his face faded a lot, looking very serious:

"Don't worry, although we can't publicize this matter, and the people attending the funeral are limited to reliable members of the Order of the Phoenix, I guarantee that Regulus will definitely leave in great glory. I chartered a plane to fly from Ghana, Africa. A professional team has been hired for him..."