Hogwart’s Certain Professor Of Magic

The next day, Sirius · Black woke up from the bed, his mind was dizzy, the feeling was like Kreacher knocked on his head for half a night, and his headache was about to split. .

"Although I know it is the consequence of the abuse of Disapparation, I always suspect that it is related to Kreacher's endless chatter!"

Sirius came to the shabby bathroom and faced suspiciously. The imprinted mirror rinsed. He repacked his hair and shaved off the dirty beard. When he took a bath, the mirror in the bathroom said: "You look like a moving rib."

He closed the curtain angrily, and the bad memories of living here in his early years seemed to come back all at once.

Half an hour later, he turned over the moldy clothes from the old closet, replaced the dirty old clothes that were tattered into strands of cloth, and he looked decent.

But he cautiously pulled out a tattered piece of old paper from his pocket. After being soaked in water yesterday, it looked crumpled. He tried to spread it out, trying not to spoil the moving photo above: it was the award-winning photo of Ron Weasley's family, with a fat mouse standing on Ron's shoulder.

He stared blankly at the photo, then turned and left.

"Kreacher, help me prepare a breakfast." Sirius shouted outside the house, after thinking about it, he added: "Don't spit, don't make it taste bad on purpose, don't allow... …" He said a series of conditions.

Kreacher bowed deeply, cursed and left.

Sirius took the time to go outside again. After looking around for a long time, he didn't find any suspicious silhouette. Instead, he saw a muggle lady who got up early to buy groceries.

"Maybe he's gone." Sirius thought to himself. He closed the door, and the silver snake door knocker hit the mottled black door with a "peng" sound. He felt a little bit in his heart and was quiet for a few seconds. Zhong, nothing happened.

"It always feels like something is wrong..." he thought.

But he couldn’t find anything strange. He sniffed his nose, and there was still a damp, gray and corrupt smell in the air. Everything from the hall to the corridor looked gloomy. Sen's, his gaze revolved on the peeling wallpaper, the carpet with fraying dust, and the magic chandelier shimmering overhead.

It's business as usual.

Even the portraits hanging crookedly on the wall are very quiet today, quiet...?

Sirius looked at the characters in the portrait carefully. They seemed to be asleep. He got closer, stood in front of a portrait of an ancestor with a glorious history that might be the House of Black, and knocked outside. Border.

The nobleman with long curly hair dragged to his waist leaned on the chair and snores slightly.

Abruptly, Sirius felt as if a piece of ice had been stuffed in his stomach, cold, still twitching, and his forehead started to hurt. He suddenly became nervously active, walked to a curtain in several strides, and yanked it open.

Behind the curtain is a huge portrait. In the painting is an Old Lady. Her face is thin and her cheekbones are high and bulging. She resembles Sirius at this time. Although I don’t want to admit it, it’s him. The mother.

Yesterday, the very active Old Lady, who had been arguing with him for a long time, slept soundly, did not suddenly jump up and yell at him, "dirty and sinful unfilial son". Her saliva wetted half of her clothes. .

Sirius returned to the room with wand in his hand. He felt a little settled, "maybe to scare myself." He started from the ground floor and searched room by room. In order to prevent accidents, he called Kreacher. return.

"If the man showed up yesterday, don't ask me, take me out of here immediately." Sirius warned house elf.

Kreacher looked reluctant, he muttered in a voice that Sirius could definitely hear: "I ran away from home for more than ten years, and the Wastrel Young Master ordered the old Kreacher. I heard that he also killed someone. …"

"Shut up!" Sirius growled.

"Crunch—"

Sirius holds the wand in one hand, the tip is shining slightly, the spell is ready to be cast, and the other hand turns the snake-like handle, and the door opens. He waited for two seconds, and took a quick look at it. There was no one inside.

Kreacher hunched his back, dragged his feet, and looked around his legs, "Nothing. Wastrel Young Master has been imprisoned for more than ten years. Even the spirit is not normal. Oh, poor mistress. Ah, if she knew about it, I don’t know what she would think. Poor old Kreacher..."

Sirius said bluntly, "She’s fine. I had a fight with me yesterday, and I slept at night. It's fragrant, drool all the way up."

They went all the way up, the old wooden floor was in disrepair, it was hollowed out by the insect, and they made a creaking sound when they stepped on it, Sirius’s The heart couldn't help but lift it up.

"It seems to be back to the war years." He mumbled said, but his eyes were filled with excitement.

His actions are more concise and efficient. Every time he opens the door, he checks the door handle to see if there are any traces of being used. After checking the dinning hall, storage room, and second floor bedroom, nothing appears. In any situation, his tense mood was somewhat relaxed.

Even when he ran into an old food Ghoul in the toilet on the second floor, he was still in the mood to joke: "Your ugly face is not the worst I have ever seen. Azkaban is the demons and ghosts. Although I am considered one of them..."

At the entrance of Study on the third floor, even though Sirius was still cautious, he was no longer so vigilant in his heart. He opened the door and walked in. . Study was empty and brighter. He saw the old, bug-eyed bookshelves against the wall, with silver and green decorative rust Scabers on them.

Behind the heavy desk is a high-backed armchair. He remembers that when he was a child, father liked to stay here most, but every time he approached, he would provoke a rebuke.

"sou sou!"

"What Dong—"

The candle stand at the door suddenly became active, twisted and wrapped around Sirius, and he held it. The hand holding the wand was bent to one side, Sirius struggled hard, but the candle stand looked like a living person, forcibly broke his fist, and wand fell to the ground, turning a few times and couldn't move.

Sirius's chest heaved violently, and he gasped for breath. In the surroundings, he caught a glimpse of Kreacher being tied up, and the sound of book turning came from behind the high chair behind the desk.

He roared a name very angrily: "Felix · Haip."

The high quilt chair turned around, revealing the silhouette of Felix, with a black cover in his hand. Book, cautiously turned over a page that was as crisp as a cracker, and said without looking up: "Wait a minute—I see the key point."

"Kreacher..." Sirius said in a low voice.

Kreacher only seemed to figure out the situation. His silhouette was illusory for a moment. He wanted to use mobile magic, but he was imprisoned in the next second.

Sirius wanted to continue talking, but the sharp end of the silver candle holder approached his mouth and made a silent threat. He could only stare at him, as if he was going to kill Felix with his eyes.

The study was quiet for ten minutes, and the whole room was only the sound of Sirius gasping. Just when he felt his wrist was strangled and unconscious, Felix closed the book "Secrets of the Darkest Art". He sighed and said: "It's so evil...I don't want to eat breakfast anymore."

Sirius couldn't help but said mockingly: "This is not like your... teacher. Snape loved these things when he was young."

"Who doesn't have any hobbies yet?" Felix Responded lightly.

Sirius was silent slightly, lifts the head and stared at Felix, "How did you get in?"

Felix smiled and said, "I got a little help from the House of Black."

"Impossible!" Sirius retorted: "Although I don't want to admit it, I am the only descendant of House of Black. Only I can come in."

Felix glanced at Kreacher .

"He...he is different..."

"Yes!" Kreacher said proudly: "Old Kreacher has served the ever noble House of Black for generations. For generations!" Then he glanced at Sirius maliciously, "Not counting the current master, there is nothing but bloodline, but poor Kreacher can't do it..."

Sirius glared at him and strangled him. The heart is gone.

Felix stood up and looked carefully at the wound on Sirius' forehead, "Potter's scar is on the right, and yours is the opposite. It's strange, is it a coincidence?"

" ——"

Sirius stared. He doesn't worry much about his safety now. He intuitively believes that Felix will not kill him, but he also discovered that Felix is ​​a bit more hateful than Snape—— His words are more powerful.