HP Approaches the Magical World

"HP approached the magic world (

"What do you think might be there?"

Luna asked eagerly, when the wall began to turn again.

"Nagging, no doubt."

Hermione replied in a low voice, and Neville smiled nervously.

The wall gradually came to a halt, and Harry pushed open a door next to him somewhat desperately.

"This is it!"

When he saw the beautiful, diamond-like flashing light, he immediately recognized this room.

After his eyes gradually adjusted to the dazzling light here, he could see the dim light on the dials of many clocks and watches.

They vary in size, from grandfather clocks to travel clocks, either hanging between bookshelves or standing on a table as long as the entire room.

Because of this, a rapid, never-ending tick filled the room, like the sound of thousands of tiny footsteps.

The bright jumping light like a diamond came from a towering bell-shaped crystal glass cover at the end of the room.

"This way!"

Once they knew they were taking the correct route, Harry's heart beat violently.

He walked ahead, following the narrow gap between the tables towards the light source, just like he did in a dream.

The bell-shaped crystal glass cover was as high as Harry, standing on a table, and it seemed to be filled with a tumbling, gleaming air current.

"Oh, look!"

As they approached, Ginny pointed to the center of the bell-shaped glass and said.

In the twinkling light, there was a small egg that was as bright as a gem. When it rose up in the glass cover, it snapped and cracked. A hummingbird came out and went straight to the top of the glass cover, but as the airflow fell, the bird’s feathers were stained again. Get wet until it falls to the bottom of the glass cover and is locked in the egg again.

"Keep walking, don't stop!"

Harry snapped, because Ginny seemed to want to stop and watch the egg turn into a bird.

"You have stayed in the old archway enough!"

She spoke, but still followed behind him, passing the bell-shaped crystal glass cover to the only door behind it.

"It's here."

Harry said it again. His heartbeat was fierce, and he thought it must be the heartbeat that affected his language expression, "It goes through here—"

He glanced around at the other people, who had already taken out their wands, and instantly looked serious and urgent.

He turned his head and stared at the door again, pushed it, and the door opened.

They came inside, and they finally found this place.

It's as high as a church, with towering shelves filled with small gray glass balls, and nothing else.

More candlesticks are embedded in the shelf at certain intervals, and dim light shines from above. Like the black circular room, the flames are blue.

Those little glass **** faintly glowed in the light.

It was cold in the house... Harry walked slowly forward and glanced down at a dark aisle between the two rows of shelves. He could not hear a sound, nor could he feel any movement, even the slightest movement.

"You said it was row ninety-seventh." Hermione said quietly beside him.

"Yes it is."

Harry responded softly, looking up at the end of the nearest row, the candles glowed with blue flames, and silver numbers flashed under the brackets.

53.

"I think we should go to the right."

Hermione whispered, squinting at the row next to her.

"By the way, this is 54."

"Everyone has their wands ready."

They tiptoedly walked forward along the long aisle between the shelves, looking back from time to time, and it was almost dark in the distance.

A small yellow label is attached to the shelf under each glass ball.

Some small **** emit mysterious flowing light, while others are fuzzy and dark, like extinguished light bulbs.

They walked through row 84 and row 85. Harry was trying to listen to the smallest movements, but he couldn't hear anything.

It may be that Sirius’s mouth is blocked, or he may be unconscious... Or, a disgusting voice burrows into his mind: "Maybe he is dead..."

If that's the case, I can feel it, Harry reminded himself that his heart was beating in his throat.

"97!" Hermione whispered.

They stood at one end of row 97, staring intently at the corridor next to the shelf, where no one was there.

"He's on the far side,"

Harry said, his mouth was a little dry. "Standing here, it's impossible to see clearly."

He led everyone through between two rows of towering glass balls, and when they passed, some of the glass glowed faintly.

"He should be around here," Harry said in a very small voice. He was convinced that every step forward, Sirius's ragged figure would appear on the pitch-black floor. "It's somewhere here...really. Very close..."

"Harry?" Hermione tried to call him, but he didn't want to answer, his mouth was already dry.

"Here, somewhere."

They have come to the other end of the row of shelves, exposed to more dim candlelight, and there is no one here.

Only the echo and the dusty silence.

"He might be..." Ha whispered in a hoarse voice, staring at the aisle next to him.

"Or maybe..." He immediately looked down the next aisle.

"Harry?" Hermione called again.

"What?" He became impatient.

"I...I don't think Sirius is here."

No one said anything.

Harry didn't want to see any of them.

He felt very uncomfortable.

He didn't understand why Sirius was not here, he obviously should be here.

He quickly ran across the rows of shelves in one direction, looking along them ~www.NovelMTL.com~ one after another empty aisles flashed past him.

His partner looked at him straightforwardly, and he turned again, passed them, and ran in the opposite direction. There was no sign of Sirius everywhere, and no trace of a fight.

"Harry?"

"what?"

He didn’t want to hear Ron speak; he didn’t want to hear Ron say he was stupid, or suggested that they should go back to Hogwarts, but his face became hotter and hotter, as if he wanted to face the tall and bright Before the main hall and other accusing eyes, he secretly hid in the darkness here for a while.

"Did you see this?" Ron said.

"what?"

Harry asked, his tone very urgent this time—it must be a trace or clue of Sirius's stay here.

The others were standing at the end of the 97th shelf and leaning a little inward. He strode to them and found nothing, except that Ron was staring at a dirty glass ball on the shelf.

"what?"

He asked again gloomily.

"It's on this—it has your name on it."

Harry moved closer, and Ron pointed to a small glass ball. It was dirty, as if it hadn't been touched in years, but the shimmer inside made it shiny.

"my name?"

Harry asked blankly.

He stepped forward, and because he was not as tall as Ron, he had to straighten his neck to look at the yellowed label under the glass ball on the shelf.

The above is marked with a date about sixteen years ago in a delicate font, and the following is:

S.P.TtoA.P.W.B.D.

The Dark Lord and (?) Harry Potter

"what is this?"

Ron asked, "Why is your name on this?"