Harry Potter and the Rebirth

The fake Ron survived the disaster and lay on a piece of sand. There were a few candles lit on the walls around him, which made people feel extremely depressing.

The small silver thread bounced back and forth in his palm. He leaned against the wall with all his strength, cursed with a smile, and then stared fiercely into the darkness, determined to make that bitch pay the price she deserved.

The cold scalpel moved around on his skin, leaving goose bumps all over his body. The feeling of being at the mercy of others was not pleasant.

However, is there really no wizard in such a large space? What is the so-called laboratory mentioned by Harry Potter?

He had just escaped from the Grim Reaper's scythe with the help of Harry, his life-saving device. Now his blood was boiling and he couldn't wait to do something big.

This little guy is really useful. He gently touched the silver thread, and then his finger was pricked by the sharp end. Blood the size of a bean slowly brewed.

One drop, two drops, three drops...

The thread slowly softened, and the small ball gradually curled up in the blood. Jarron could vaguely feel a trace of connection.

"Move, little guy." He took a deep breath, held his breath, and said expectantly.

There was no reaction, as if the connection just now was just an illusion. The fake Ron was a little discouraged. He quietly placed the small piece of silk thread in his hand, pinched it loosely, and walked into the darkness slowly.

In the world above, Dudley rubbed his forehead with a headache and looked at Clinton standing in front of him.

"Keep the news of this matter secret for the time being and don't let anyone know. I believe you should be able to do it easily."

Clinton nodded.

"Also, send someone to monitor them in secret and see where they go."

"Okay, sir, do you have any other instructions?"

"Nothing, you go down first."

Clinton stood there hesitantly. He seemed to be very conflicted. Finally, he spoke, "Sir, where is Lord Grindelwald now? There are some matters that need his attention urgently."

"What? What can't I do?" Dudley looked angry on the surface, but in fact he was sweating coldly on his back and his hands under the table were clenched tightly.

"No, sir. Actually, you can handle it. I just ask you to move to the underground laboratory. Some scholars there are not very obedient."

"Oh?" Dudley had cold sweat on his forehead. Potter had really given him a death order before he left, that he was not allowed to enter under any circumstances. But in the current situation, with Corwin's appearance, not to mention the aura, his height is not up to the standard. He didn't know what that guy was thinking. He had clearly agreed to stay for two or three days, but it's already the fourth day and he still hasn't come back.

Then don't blame me for disobeying orders first. He just had some rebellious thoughts, and the words of his master that day lingered in his ears, making him pale instantly.

Forget it, forget it. I can’t afford to offend him, so I’d better get rid of this guy as soon as possible.

When Clinton heard Dudley's refusal, he looked at him strangely, seemed to realize something, and turned and walked away with a smile on his face.

"Captain, as you instructed, all the people who witnessed this incident have signed the agreement. The body of the little girl has also been properly disposed of, but their parents suddenly disappeared." The man seemed a little confused.

"What? No? I just saw them at the market and told them the news. You don't have to worry about the rest of their affairs."

"Okay okay."

Clinton came into the tent again, stared at the bloodstains on the soil in silence, then turned and left.

Suddenly there was a flower on the face.

After he left, a tender little hand picked up the flower, which was stained with blood and some sand.

After Snape was awarded numerous titles again, Watts and I seemed to have stabilized on the surface, but the news of Dumbledore's disappearance slowly spread in the wizarding world through various channels.

At this time, a new Slytherin student who had just enrolled this year came to him. His name was very strange and had a legendary and mythical color.

The freshman came quietly and left quietly, and no one knew that he had met Snape in secret.

Snape moved out of his office and came to the headmaster's office. No one doubted or protested. They were all watching to see what kind of future this new headmaster would bring to them.

As the incident happened too suddenly, some people came over angrily after getting the news. The first to be hit was Moody, who had always made it his mission to fight against dark wizards, hated evil and wanted to use Avada on all those who suspected him.

He was leaning on a cane at the moment, his gray hair was scattered loosely behind his back, and a mechanical eye was rolling around in his eye socket, but he was staring at Snape from any angle.

"Did you see Dumbledore's death with your own eyes?" He slammed his cane to the ground. He didn't trust this guy who used to be a Death Eater, especially since there were loopholes in his description.

It's just that Fox was standing obediently on his shoulder at the moment. It's impossible for a psychic little guy to be so intimate with the murderer who killed his owner.

All his doubts disappeared at this moment. "It can't be Lupin. It's absolutely impossible for him to be that person." Moody wandered back and forth, staring at the portrait of Dumbledore, hoping to find the answer here.

However, the portrait showed him taking off his glasses and leisurely basking in the sun on the beach wearing a sun hat.

Moody was irritated by the fact that he was giving all his flirtatious glances to the blind man.

He sighed heavily, "I'll go to the crime scene."

After he left, the one who came was the well-informed Lucius. Unlike Moody, he did not directly suspect Dumbledore's death. Instead, he first happily celebrated his old friend becoming the headmaster of Hogwarts, and then asked indirectly what had happened at that time.

Snape was very tight-lipped and kept a stern face even in front of his old friends. The brain-occlusion technique had been operating continuously since a certain moment in the past.

"Let's not talk about this for now. What should I do next? Now that Dumbledore is dead," Lucius emphasized the word, "should the experiments in that base continue? They are all guys who are neither human nor ghost. Dozens of them have been thrown out."

"Experiment--" Snape deliberately stretched out his voice.

"Yes, I did trick a lot of Muggle tycoons into coming here, and they handed over a lot of gold, but what's the use of it now? Some of the lists of scientists were also provided by them, but now they are all in the hands of Lord Grindelwald. I think they are no longer useful. It is not good for Muggles or us to continue to maintain such a large base."

Lucius was a little worried. After all, all the money came out of his account. It was nearly several thousand gold galleons a day. He spent money like water. His account swelled to several million in a few days, but time passed and all his money was taken away.

If he didn't stop, he would lose money, so he had no choice but to shamelessly ask for help from his old friend.

"I'll take a look tonight and then make a decision."

Lucius breathed a sigh of relief. He had not expected such a good thing to happen. If he had known this earlier, he would have come a few days earlier. Maybe he could have saved tens of thousands of gold galleons.

"Oh, right, these are some homemade candies your son brought to you and Narcissa. He said it was a gift to you. He also said that he hoped you would be careful recently."

Hearing this made people feel warm at heart. Lucius' frown was smoothed by these words, and in front of Snape, he stuffed two or three candies from the jar into the jar.

Snape watched him go without changing his expression.

When Lucius left, he saw Moody in the depths of the corridor, who was still trying to find out the truth. He glanced at him and felt that he was very unlucky today as he had run into such a troublemaker.

Moody naturally looked down on Lucius, but now he had met a witness and had no time to collect the debt from this stingy guy who valued money more than anything else.

"Do you think this is true?"

"Yeah," Ouroboros nodded desperately and said carefully, "Before Headmaster Dumbledore left, the story of the Room of Requirement suddenly spread here. I came here quietly out of curiosity at that time, and I saw Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape walk in, but Professor McGonagall disappeared, and Professor Snape came out instead."

"Where are you talking about?"

Moody placed his big hand gently on Ouroboros' shoulder, and keenly noticed his green collar, indicating that he was a Slytherin.

"That's the troll picture."

"Huh?" He leaned forward and was somewhat surprised to find that the giant monster suddenly disappeared. Only a handful of figures were left on the portrait. Most of them were a little scared and trembling as they hid themselves behind some cover.

"Where is the giant monster?"

Ouroboros hurriedly pulled Moody's sleeve and pulled him next to a blank portrait, anxious to prove himself.

"That's what the note said, and many of our classmates said they had succeeded."

He didn't seem to see Moody's probing look.

Ouroboros was spinning in circles, muttering to himself. Moody looked at him suspiciously. It was unlikely that an eleven-year-old kid could master any advanced magic.

He just suspected that the little guy might have been controlled by someone with the Dementia Curse, or...

Just as his thoughts had not yet reached a more outrageous point, the wall on one side suddenly moved, and slowly condensed into a bronze door.

The little boy jumped up happily, "Right? Look, I said it's here, look, look."

Moody was pulled by the little boy's sleeve. Even though the boy looked weird all over, with a lame leg, gray hair, wrinkled skin, and the strange look that seemed to feed on children, he was not scared away. Instead, he felt particularly close to him.

The little guy's green eyes reminded him of Harry at New Year's. Moody's heart softened a little, and then he looked at the door vigilantly.

"Just stay here and don't move. I'll go in and take a look."

"Old sir, old sir, I want to go in, too. I want to go in, too."

Unfortunately, the little guy's act of coquetry was unsuccessful and Moody drove him away.

There was no trace of black magic or any evil curse on the door. Relying on his sixth sense, which he had honed from years of experience in life and death, Moody did not become alert.

He placed his hand gently on the handle. Perhaps Mag was inside. Once Mag was found, everything would be revealed.

With this thought in mind, the corridor was suddenly illuminated by a strong light, the shadow of a bat fell to the ground, and then everything became quiet.

Moody disappeared.

Ouroboros came back here expressionlessly and took out a long list from his pocket with a feather pen next to it.

Who's next?

It was already dark, and the teaching at Hogwarts had changed to large classes. Due to the shortage of teachers, there were no longer any separate colleges, and every teacher was too busy to handle everything.

Even the rookie Georges had the honor of being the professor of Transfiguration for the first, second and third year classes, as well as the professor of Care of Magical Creatures for the third year class.

Kettleburn was gloriously rehired and was extremely busy every day. Even his favorite tricks had to be performed with caution because of lack of manpower, which might cause irreparable consequences.

Unfortunately, the adventurous gene in his bones will never be eliminated, especially when he learned from his colleagues that the Room of Requirement on the eighth floor seemed to have become a place of death where one could only enter but not leave, he became even more excited.

Although this professor was liked by the vast majority of students because of his glorious deeds in previous years, he also lost a lot of his body tissues, so he could only rely on magic when climbing the stairs.

He grunted and avoided everyone, going up one level at a time. Fortunately, the ghosts in the school suddenly disappeared overnight. Dumbledore's explanation was that due to the change in the school environment, they could only take root in that soil and wait for Hogwarts to be rebuilt.

Kettleburn was thankful that Peeves was not there.

However, just as he was about to reach the 7th floor, he heard a female voice, very mature.

Who is it? When did such a person come to Hogwarts?

With such doubts in mind, he hid secretly in the dark.

Ta da da, this girl is actually wearing high heels. She must be a noble lady from a pure-blood family. This was his first judgment.

And then, the annoying sound began to torture his ears.

Lucius, that female voice should be his wife.

The group slowly walked up to the eighth floor and then turned right.

To the right?

Kettleburn stuck his head out. Why to the right? Shouldn't the principal's office be on the left?

Then another person came. He was obviously very familiar with this figure. When Kettleburn was about to greet him, he suddenly saw blood dripping from under his black tent.

It seems particularly penetrating.

This guy also turned right.

It seemed like a very long time had passed, and it was officially late at night. He could no longer suppress his curiosity and officially stepped onto the eighth floor, but the entire corridor was empty.

He shivered with fear.

A figure suddenly and quietly appeared behind him.