[Sensual salted fish, ask for tickets online]

There are votes, there are no votes...... Where's my knife? Where's my forty-meter-long broadsword?!

P S, this chapter quotes a lot of original texts!

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Reaching the elevator area, Harry pressed the nearest "down" button, and immediately an elevator appeared and stopped in front of them.

With a clanging sound, the golden fence gate gently slid open, and the unreliable team swarmed in.

Harry clicked the ninth button, and the fence gate slammed shut, and the elevator began to descend, the chain clattering.

After a while, the elevator stopped, and an indifferent woman's voice said, "Department of Mysteries." The gate slid open.

They came out into the hallway. There was no movement in all directions, only the nearest torches swayed from side to side by the air whipped up by the elevator.

……

Harry turned to the all-black door of the Department of Mysteries. He'd been seeing it in his dreams for months, and now he's finally here.

"Let's go." Harry whispered, leading the way down the hallway, Ron following closely behind him, looking around with his mouth slightly open.

"Alright, listen to me." Harry paused less than six feet from the black door and said, "Perhaps...... Maybe you should send two people to stay here - watch the wind, and-"

"You can pull it down, what kind of wind are you looking at? What if you were taken hostage by the Death Eaters who were in ambush somewhere? Since we're in this group, we're going to get in order—Kreacher, go in first!" Lin Xiaoan said unceremoniously.

"Do as you ask, Mr. Lin." Kreacher bowed to Lin Xiao'an, completely ignoring Hermione's compassionate gaze, and walked straight to the black door.

Lin Xiaoan silently recited twice in his heart, "If you are not of my race, your heart will be different", but she still couldn't completely suppress the feeling of guilt that kept fluttering, so she had to add a Q aura to herself: Everything I do is for the tribal (cross out) wizard world!

……

They stood in a large circular room.

Everything here is dark, including the floor and ceiling. There are many black doors embedded in the surrounding black walls, all of which are identical, with no markings and no handles.

The walls are dotted with candles in the form of branches, the flames are blue, and the flickering cold light casts on the shiny marble floor, giving the impression that the water is dark beneath your feet.

In his dreams, Harry always walked through the room with confidence, towards the door that faced the entrance. But now there are twelve doors around. He looked at the doors across from him, trying to determine which one to enter.

At that moment, with a loud rumbling sound, the candle began to move to the side, and the circular wall spun.

Hermione grabbed Harry's arm, seemingly afraid that the floor would move as well—fortunately not.

For a few seconds, the walls spun rapidly, and blue flames blurred around them, like neon tubes. Then, as suddenly as it had begun, the rumbling stopped, and everything returned to calm.

Harry's eyes flashed with blue bands of light, and he couldn't see anything else.

……

"What's going on?" Ron asked in a frightened whisper.

"I guess so we don't know which door you came in from." Hermione said in a low voice.

Harry immediately realized she was right. He couldn't tell the exit, just as he couldn't find an ant on a dark door. And the door they need to enter can be any of the twelve surrounding doors.

"Randomly...... If not, make a mark on the door. Lin Xiaoan remembered that it was mentioned in the original book that if the door of the Department of Mysterious Affairs goes wrong and exits, the circular wall will rotate again, disrupting the order of the door.

……

"This is it!"

After making a few mistakes, Harry finally found a room that was exactly like the one in his dream.

"This is it." Harry said it again. His heart was beating fast and hard, and he felt that even his words were affected, "Passing through here—"

Harry turned his head to look at everyone—all wands in hand, their expressions very serious and nervous.

He turned his head and pushed the door open.

The door opened.

……

It was as tall as a church, and it was filled with tall shelves with tiny, dusty glass balls. The glass balls shimmered dimly in the light of the ledged candlesticks between the shelves. Like in the round room, the candle flame was blue. It was very cold in the room.

"In the ninety-seventh row?" Hermione whispered.

"Yes." Harry replied softly, looking up at the top of the nearest row of shelves. Under a candle that shimmered blue from the shelf, a silver number flickered: 53.

"I think we need to go to the right," Hermione squinted at the row of shelves next to her, "yes...... That's fifty-four......"

Everyone crept along the long aisle between the shelves, tiptoeing forward, looking back from time to time, and the end of the aisle was almost dark.

Each of the glass balls on the shelves has small yellowed labels stuck under them. Some of the glass balls shimmered with an eerie, liquid-like light, while others were dull inside, like a light bulb with a blown fuse.

They passed through the eighty-fourth platoon...... Row 85...... Ninety-seven rows!

……

"That's right......"

Harry tilted his head, looked at the "97" on the shelf, and muttered, "Voldemort...... Want to get ...... Here's ...... Something......"

"Harry? You...... Check this out? Ron stared at a corner of the shelf—there was a dusty glass ball.

"What?" Harry walked over.

"There's your name on it—there's your name on it." Ron said.

Harry leaned closer. Ron pointed to the small glass orb, which was dusty and seemed to have not been touched in years, but from which a faint light shone through.

"My name?" Harry asked, blankly.

Harry stepped forward, he was shorter than Ron, and had to crane his neck to see the yellowed tags stuck in the shelves beneath the dusty glass balls.

The label reads in elongated font a date from about sixteen years ago, followed by:

S.P.T. to A.P.W.B.D.

The Dark Lord

and (?) Harry Potter

Harry stared blankly at the orb.

"What is it?" Ron asked, his voice timid, "How can your name be on this?" ”