Chapter 1692

The breakfast in the broken cauldron bar is so bad that it can't be compared with the level of Hogwarts. Even Harry always thinks the food here tastes like a rag.

But he hasn't tasted a bite of eggs for three days in a row.

So, no matter how bad the meal was, he ate it and drank two glasses of milk.

Compared with the first time he came to the broken cauldron bar and was surrounded by guests like rare animals, Harry now feels like a passer-by. No one pays any attention to him. At most, he just looks at the lightning scar on his forehead from a distance, that's all.

The adult witches drinking here don't know whether they've been drinking here since last night, or whether they've been drinking here in the early morning. Harry can only hear that their topics are all about Hermione Granger.

In one year, he took courses in seven colleges, and all of them got excellent grades. This is something Dumbledore never did. The prophet daily seemed to be bribed to play Miss Granger in a different way.

Even some of the witches brought in several foreign newspapers, including the New York ghost newspaper, which publicized Hermione's contribution to the development of friendship among the young generation in various countries.

Not to mention some school rumors have also spread into the magic world, now it is widely believed that she is like the reincarnation of Ms. Ravenclaw, the hope of the future of Britain.

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

He asked Sirius, who was eating sandwiches. The other party obviously knew what it was relying on, but it was just inconvenient to tell Harry. The deliberate diversion of the topic made Sirius look funny:

"well, no, that, there will be a Quidditch World Cup final in a few days. Would you like to see it

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

After eating, Harry entered Diagon Alley from the patio behind the bar, a familiar road Harry had walked several times, and his return to the magic world made him feel like he was alive.

But this time, the godfather took him to a shop he had never been to in the past few years, right next to Oliver van der's wand shop, Wilson's automatic wand for alchemy.

There are many reasons why he didn't go in. On the one hand, Harry has been growing up in a Muggle family. He knows guns. He thinks gun shops are not for children, and they are all consumer fraud? Say the gun as an automatic wand...

besides, this is a shop opened by a professor. Students are always afraid of their teachers, and no one is willing to be caught by the professor for education during the holidays.

But to Harry's surprise, he opened the door and looked inside, not only Professor Wilson, but also many teachers at Hogwarts today.

Dumbledore was holding a pistol and looking into the muzzle of the gun with interest; Professor McGonagall was reprimanding several shop assistants with a look of iron and steel on his face; Snape was sitting in the corner of the shop, with an expressionless face; Professor flyaway was talking to Professor Wilson behind the counter, but because he was too short to see him, he could only hear his voice.

Harry found that the Ron family was here, most of them were, the Weasleys, and Ron and Ginny. The two students were very uncomfortable on this occasion, but Mr. Weasley couldn't put it down with an assault rifle.

"Go ahead. I'll talk to the headmaster."

Sirius pushed Harry's back to show him to play with his classmates, and Harry had been longing for this. He saw Ron biting the pen pole to write back to himself. Hedwig on his shoulder found Harry earlier than he did.

"Why are you here?"

Harry approached, said hello to the Weasleys, and leaned close to Ron's ear.

Ron broke out his hand in agony. He took the opportunity to tear the letter to pieces: "I was going to write you a letter asking about this. I was arrested by my mother early this morning and put it into the fireplace without saying a word. I'm still dizzy."

"The godfather told me to go to his brother's funeral."

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

Ron rolled his eyes and shrunk back in his chair. "But I've never heard of my family being so close to the Black family. You know, we're hostile to most pure blood maniacs."

"I don't know, but I know I'm going to be driven crazy at home." Harry pushed close to Ron and they sat next to each other in a chair: "is there anything interesting here? Have you brought wizard chess? I think adults need to talk for a while

Ron seemed to be reminded that he pulled Harry to his feet, but he did not forget to catch his sister:

"I almost forgot that our family arrived the first time. I asked Professor Wilson, and he said that when you came, we could play in the basement. It was the shooting range, just like Miss Granger's special shooting range at school. I don't quite understand where it is, but the professor said you can play. Let's go there? "

Harry can fart. He has seen people shooting on TV, but he has never touched it.But immediately, as a Gryffindor graduate student, the slave workers who had been taught by Professor McGonagall before came together and said that they could provide guidance for the students.

So Harry, too, got permission from the professor and godfather, and took Ron and Ginny to play in the basement.

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 played with guns, he gave them iron armor to protect their safety.

Harry didn't care about the man who looked like a keeper or a guard. He knew that pistols were easy to use, so under the guidance of the shop assistant, he played like a horse.

After hitting the humanoid paper target for a while, he happily danced his gun:

"Ron! Look! It's much better than a wand! "

"Great! Let me try it, too

The red haired boy felt his blood spurt when he heard the gunshot. He couldn't control his hand.

"it looks like you have a decision."

Su Ming got close to Sirius and handed him a cigarette. They began to puff. Almost at the same time, another slave worker, who was scolded by Professor McGonagall, took the opportunity to get out of his body and offered to bring him an ashtray.

"Yes, we had a meeting, and the headmaster and I all approved of your method. After all, everything has risks." Sirius took a hard puff of smoke, and his face was very tangled: "I know some knowledge about Muggles. When they get sick, they will go to an expert for a treatment called" operation ", which is also a way to cure the disease and save people."

Su Ming nods with a smile. At present, it's OK to go here, and then wait for the opportunity of the Goblet of fire.

He patted Sirius on the arm: "wait for lupin and some of their latecomers. I think we can settle regullus before noon."

Sirius rubbed his face. "Are you sure it's the best choice to bury him in a Muggle cemetery?"

"Of course, after all, the thief who stole the corpse has not been caught. Now the wizard's cemetery is not safe. What place is more reliable than the Muggle church near your home?"

Su Ming slowly breathed out smoke, and his smile was restrained a lot, and he seemed very serious:

"don't worry, although we can't publicize this event, and the people who attend the funeral are only reliable members of the order of Phoenix, I can guarantee that regulles is absolutely incomparable. I chartered a plane and invited a professional team from Ghana, Africa ......”

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