The god of flesh and blood magic at Hogwarts!

The next day...

Thorne got up early and was practicing spells with a wand in front of a basic spell book.

Dongdongdong.

"Come in," Thorne replied.

"I thought you didn't get up." Dumbledore walked in as if nothing had happened.

"Well...what's wrong with your eyes?" Thorne looked up at Dumbledore's purple eyes in surprise and asked awkwardly.

"Didn't I accidentally go wrong while doing a magic experiment yesterday? It's okay." Dumbledore waved his hand and said.

"Okay, what's the matter?" Thorne's mouth twitched, but he didn't make it clear.

"Take you to see your only remaining blood relative in the world." Dumbledore said and patted Thorne's shoulder. In a blink of an eye, the two appeared on an isolated island covered with dark clouds.

"What is this place?"

"Azkaban, you should apply to the Ministry of Magic to come here, but your identity is a bit sensitive and it is easy for the Ministry of Magic to use it, and the anti-apparition ban in this place is weak. I brought you here secretly, don't make a sound." Dumbledore took out the Elder Wand and waved it, and Thorne felt a layer of mercury-like substance covering his whole body.

"Disillusionment spell?"

"I've learned it very quickly during this period, but this is not only the Disillusionment spell, but also the magic of hiding emotions. Come with me first." Dumbledore said, leading Thorne to the fortress in the center of the island.

Passing by the Dementors wandering in the sky and the beaters sitting at the door with chocolates, they walked into Azkaban as if there was no one around.

The difference between the outside and the inside was not too big when they first walked in, and they could occasionally see some sunlight. The prisoners in the cells were either lying there wailing or laughing foolishly.

Walking further in, the environment suddenly became cold and gloomy. The prisoners here did not wail, but were all idiots who had been cured of drooling. Occasionally, there were a few Dementors floating by.

Until they walked into the deepest part, Dumbledore stopped in front of a cell and removed the Disillusionment Charm on the two people, but the dense Dementors in the deepest part still acted as if they did not see the two people.

There was a dishevelled man sitting in the cell. Unlike those people outside who had no sense, he looked up at Dumbledore and the others with some surprise.

"......"

"Don't you want to say anything?"

"He is Thorne Black, the posthumous son of Regulus. Do you know him?" Dumbledore patted Thorne on the shoulder and asked.

At this time, Sirius Black looked up at Thorne in surprise, and his sharp eyes seemed to want to cut Thorne's face off.

"Don't go to Slytherin, that's a place where people are eaten without leaving any bones." He finally said the first sentence.

"This is the duty of the Sorting Hat, you are not qualified to influence his future." Dumbledore suddenly said seriously.

"I understand."

"And Harry Potter, he will also enter school this year." Dumbledore continued.

"It is indeed at this time..."

"... Let's go." Dumbledore was about to take out his wand.

"Wait." Sirius hurriedly said, stood up and fiddled in the corner of the cell, and finally fiddled out a key to cut his finger, and tore off a piece of cloth from his body and wrote an address on it.

He stood up with difficulty and handed the two things over the railing.

Thorne hesitated for a while, and finally took the things.

"This is..."

"It should have been yours." Sirius said and sat back in the corner.

"..Let's go." Dumbledore said as he took out his wand and used the illusion to wrap the two again until they walked out of Azkaban and found the weak point of the ban.

Only a buzzing sound was heard, as if nothing had happened.

After opening his eyes, Thorne was a little surprised. This was not Hogwarts or Diagon Alley, nor was it anywhere in his memory, but he had already guessed.

"Grimmauld Place, your home." Dumbledore said.

"Uh... If you don't mind, I would rather call Hogwarts my home." Thorne said a little embarrassedly. After all, what Dumbledore said at this moment was like adopting Thorne when he was a child, and when he was eleven years old, he suddenly pulled him to a place and said, "This is your home." Then he disappeared with a whoosh. From then on, Thorne was left with only an empty big house, an obedient old elf, a room full of magic supplies, and a portrait of his grandmother that he could use to curse at when he was bored.

What made him most desperate was the gold galleons that he could not spend in ten lifetimes.

Hiss......

This doesn't seem to make people despair.

"Open the cloth and take a look." Dumbledore said.

"Okay." Thorne took out the cloth, and inside it was written 12 Grimmauld Place in blood.

The next moment, as if the space was disordered, the two houses somehow moved in opposite directions synchronously, revealing a tall black building.

The two gently pushed open the door, and the first impression was...dark, dull, and weird.

"It's...it's that dirty bug trying to invade the great and noble Black House!" An old and unrecognizable house elf limped down the stairs, but before he got close to the two, he suddenly slowed down and stared at Thorne's face.

"Little master?" It said in a trance.

"Uh...does it know me?" Thorne said with a chill on his face.

"Of course... of course I know you, my name is Kreacher, you... you are Master Regulus's child, how could I not know you, you are finally back, I am sorry that I lost you that year, I should execute myself, but I can't, the old Black house still needs my maintenance, and Master Regulus's orders still need me to obey."

"By the way, you should go and see the old master!" As it said that, it quickly came over and grabbed Thorne's sleeve and dragged him into the house.

"Uh, let go!" Thorne said with a chill.

"Ah?" Kreacher said in surprise.

"I said, let go!" The next moment, Kreacher's arm suddenly split without warning, and the latter immediately fell to the ground in pain, and hurriedly knelt there respectfully, wanting to wipe the blood on Thorne's sleeve but afraid of angering him.

"Dumbledore... this place is a bit evil." Thorne looked at Kreacher kneeling on the ground and said with a chill on his face.

"I'm sorry... I'm really sorry. Kreacher is already very old and no longer has the ability to restore the great and glorious Black Mansion. Perhaps the young master needs a new house-elf, and I should be beheaded and hung on the wall!"

Kreacher knelt on the ground, slapping his body like crazy, and said miserably.