The bright orange lights around them grew larger and rounder; They could see the rooftops of the buildings, the headlights of the traffic resembling the shining eyes of beetles, and the boxy windows glowing with a dull yellow glow. Pen & Fun & Pavilion www.biquge.info

Suddenly, they rushed towards the pavement; Harry did everything he could, desperately trying to hold on to Thestrals, ready to deal with the impact when he suddenly landed.

Thestrals, however, fell lightly on the swarthy ground like a shadow. Harry slid off its back and glanced around the street, where the overflowing dump truck was still parked not far from the dilapidated phone booth, illuminated by the drab orange streetlights, unable to see their original colors.

Ron landed nearby, then fell headlong off the Thestrals and fell onto the sidewalk.

"I don't want to do it again." He said, struggling to his feet. He seemed to want to stride away from Thestrals, but he couldn't see it, so he bumped into its hind legs and nearly fell on its back. "Absolutely, definitely can't do it again...... That's bad enough—"

Hermione and Ginny landed on either side of him: the sliding off the horse was more graceful than Ron's, but when they got back to the ground, the relaxed expressions on their faces were almost the same; Neville trembled and jumped off his horse; Luna slid off her mount with a gentle and deft ride.

"Where are we going now?" Luna asked Harry politely and with interest, it sounded more like a fun day trip.

"This way." Harry said. He gratitatively patted his mount in a hurry, then led them quickly to the dilapidated telephone booth and opened the door. "Come on!" He urged his companion, who was a little hesitant.

Ron and Ginny walked in obediently; Hermione, Neville, and Luna then squeezed in, and then he struggled into the phone booth behind Luna.

"Whoever is closest to the phone, dial the number 62442!" He said.

He had come in this way when he had come here for trial before, and he remembered the situation very well.

Ron's arm bent awkwardly toward the dial and dialed the number; As the dial quickly turned back into place, a woman's indifferent voice came into the phone booth.

"Welcome to the Ministry of Magic, please state your name and what to do."

"Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger," Harry said quickly, "Ginny Weasley, Neville Longbottom, Luna Lovegood, we're here to save people, unless your Ministry of Magic gets him out first." ”

"Thank you," said the cold voice, "Guest, please take the badge and pin it in front of your clothes." ”

Six badges slipped out of the metal diagonal slash that was supposed to be used to exit the coin.

Hermione picked them up and handed them to Harry over Ginny's head without a sound; Harry glanced at the top one: Harry Potter, Rescue Mission.

"Guests of the Ministry of Magic, you will need to be screened at the security checkpoint and register your wand. The security desk is located at the end of the main hall. ”

"Got it!" Harry exclaimed, his scar aching again, "Can we move now?" ”

The floor of the phone booth shook suddenly, the sidewalk outside gradually rose past the window, and Thestrals, who were foraging, slowly slipped out of sight; The darkness closed over their heads, and with a dull grinding sound, they descended into the depths of the Ministry of Magic.

A thin golden ray shone on their feet, widening and moving towards them. In such a confined space, Harry grabbed his wand and crouched down as far as he could, peering through the glass to see if anyone was waiting for them in the main hall, but the main hall seemed empty. The light is a little dimmer than during the day; There was no fire in the mantelpiece embedded in the wall, but when the elevator came to a steady stop, he saw that the golden symbol was still writhing irregularly on the dark blue canopy.

"The Ministry of Magic wants you to have a nice night." The woman's voice said.

The door to the phone booth slammed open, and Harry staggered out, followed by Neville and Luna. The only sound that could be heard in the main hall was the constant rush of water from the wands of witches and witches, the arrowheads of centaurs, the tips of fairy hats, and the ears of house-elves, falling into the circular pool.

"This way." Harry said softly, and the six of them were running through the hall at full speed, and he ran past the fountain towards the security checkpoint, where a wizard who had been guarding Harry's wand was sitting but it was empty.

Harry thought there should be security guards here, but now there was no one, which was a bad omen.

As they walked through the golden gate towards the elevator, his sense of foreboding intensified. He pressed the nearest "down" button, and the elevator clicked almost immediately, and the golden fence slid from the middle to the sides with a deafening clang.

Harry poked the number nine button, and the fence slammed shut. The elevator rattled and rattled, and Harry hadn't noticed how noisy it had been when he had been here with Mr. Weasley that day. He believes that this kind of noise will attract the attention of every security guard in the building. However, when the elevator stopped, the voice of the indifferent woman said, "Department of Mysteries." ”

The fence opened, and they stepped out into the hallway, where nothing was moving, except for the nearest torches flickering and flickering in the air whistling from the elevator. There are no security guards, no staff, and the corridor of Nuoda is quiet, as if someone has pressed the mute switch.

Harry turned to the plain black door.

For months, he had only seen it in his dreams, and now he was finally here.

"Let's go." He whispered, leading the group down the hallway, Luna following him, her mouth slightly open, looking around.

"Alright, everybody," Harry said, pausing less than six feet from the Black Gate, "maybe a few people should be left here - looking at the wind, and—"

"But if anything, how can we inform you?" Ginny raised an eyebrow and asked, "You might be far away?" ”

"We'll all go with you, Harry." Neville said.

"Let's go on." Ron said firmly.

Harry was still reluctant to take them all with him, but he didn't seem to have a choice. He turned to the black door and walked over...... As in a dream, it opens. He crossed the threshold, and the others followed.

However, I searched for several doors in a row, but I couldn't find the room in the dream.

He even found something that looked like a curtain, and was almost bewildered by the visions inside, and if it hadn't been for his companions who woke him up in time, he would have almost stepped over it. Although he didn't know what it was, it didn't feel like it was a good thing, and Harry was shocked into a cold sweat.

After searching for several more doors, they finally found the place of Harry's dream.

It was as tall as a church, lined with towering shelves and dusty glass balls, and nothing else.

More candlesticks were embedded in the shelves at regular intervals, and a dim light came from them, and the flames were blue, as in the black round room. The little glass balls glow faintly in the light. It was cold inside the house.

Harry walked slowly forward, looking down at the dark aisle between the two rows of shelves, he couldn't hear a sound, he couldn't feel any movement, not even the slightest movement.

"You said it was the 97th row." Hermione whispered next to him.

"Yes." Harry replied softly, looking up at the end of the nearest row. The candle glows blue, and the silver number 53 flashes underneath the stand.

"I think we should go to the right." Hermione whispered, squinting her eyes at the row next to her, "...... It's 54 ......"

"Everybody's got their wands ready." Harry whispered.

They crept along the long aisle between the shelves, glancing back from time to time that it was almost pitch black in the distance. The shelves underneath each glass ball are labeled with small, yellowed labels. Some of the balls emit a mysteriously flowing light, while others are blurry and dark, like a light bulb that has gone out. They walked through the 84th row...... Row 85 - Harry was trying to listen for the slightest movement, but couldn't hear anything, maybe Sirius' mouth was gagged, or maybe he was unconscious......

Or, a disgusting voice burrowed into his head: "Maybe he's dead......"

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

"971," Hermione whispered.

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

"He's on the very other side," said Harry, his mouth a little dry, "and it's impossible to see here." ”

He led the group through two rows of towering glass balls, some of which glowed faintly as they passed......

"He should be around here," Harry's voice was quiet, convinced that with every step forward, Sirius's ragged figure would appear on the pitch-black floor, "somewhere right here...... Really close......"

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

"Here...... Somewhere ......," he said.

They had reached the other end of the row, exposed to more dim candlelight. There is no one here either. There was only echoes and dusty silence.

"He may be ......" Harry whispered in a hoarse voice, his eyes fixed on the aisle next to him, "or maybe ......" He immediately looked down the next aisle.

"Harry?" Hermione screamed again.

"What?" He was getting impatient.

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

No one made a sound. Harry didn't want to look at any of them. He felt bad. He didn't understand why Sirius wasn't here. And he's supposed to be here. That's where Harry met him......

He quickly ran past the rows of shelves in one direction, looking down at them. Empty aisles flashed past him. His companion stared straight at him, and he turned around again, passed them, and ran in the opposite direction. There was no shadow of Sirius anywhere, and there was no sign of a fight.

Harry's face began to turn ugly, and he and his friends had checked almost all the shelves around him, but Sirius could not be found. Where the hell did he go? Was it killed? Or was it taken away? What the hell is going on with him now......

More and more questions filled his mind, and Harry began to become impatient.

"Harry!"

Just then, Neville's voice suddenly came. Everyone turned their heads to look, but saw him standing in front of a shelf, looking up at the small name tag on the shelf.

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

Harry got closer, and Neville pointed to a small glass ball, it was dirty, as if it hadn't been touched in years. But the glimmer inside made it glow a little.

"My name?" Harry asked, blankly.

He stepped forward, and because he wasn't as tall as Ron, he had to straighten his neck to look at the yellowed label under the glass balls affixed to the shelf.

Hearing this, Harry walked over, looked at the ball in front of him, and then at his companion, and subconsciously reached out to pick up the ball.

"Harry, I don't think you should touch it." Hermione shrieked as Harry reached over.

"Why shouldn't it?" He said, "It's about me, isn't it?" ”

"Don't, Harry." Neville said suddenly. Harry glanced at him. Neville's round face glowed slightly, and it seemed as if he couldn't bear any more uneasiness and anxiety.

"My name is written on it." Harry said.

He thought to himself that he would leave him alone, so he grabbed the filthy little ball. He thought it was cold, but on the contrary, it made people feel as if it had been in the sun for hours, as if it was warmed by its own light. Harry expecting, even hoping that something dramatic would happen, that something exciting would make their long, dangerous journey worthwhile in the end, he took the orb off the shelf and glared at it.

Nothing happened. Five other people walked up and stood around him, and he brushed the thick dust from the surface of the glass ball with his hands. They stared intently at the ball in his hand.

Something like a mist floated in the ball, slowly transforming into a blurred face, and Harry's ears were whispering like whispers.

"The man who has the power to defeat the Dark Lord has approached, and the Dark Lord sees him as a fierce enemy, and he has a power that the Dark Lord does not understand. For neither can live, but only one will live, and the other will surely die......"

A faint sound came from the ball, causing a group of several people to look at each other, not knowing why.

Then, behind their right, a lazy voice sounded.

"Very well, Potter, now turn around slowly and give it to me." (To be continued.) )