Harry has now truly forgotten all his hesitation.
Once they found their way, they rushed into the dazzling sunlight.
This is another world.
The wheels flew through the soft sea of clouds.
Under the dazzling sunlight, the sky was a bright, boundless blue.
"Now we just need to watch out for the planes," Ron said.
They looked at each other and started laughing, and they couldn't stop for a long time.
They seemed to have entered a mythical dream.
Harry thought this was undoubtedly the best way to travel: sitting in a sun-drenched car, gliding through swirling, towering clouds, with a huge bag of toffee under the dashboard, and imagining Sirius's astonished expression when they magically descended from the sky and came to a smooth stop in Grimmauld Place.
Sirius always thought he was too honest and not like his father, right?
After seeing this, Harry bet Sirius would never think that way again.
They flew westward, checking the direction of the road's spread every now and then, and each descent revealed a different view.
The Ottery St Catchpole was quickly left far behind, replaced by a beautiful, winding coastline and lush, verdant valleys.
Then there are the ancient monasteries built on isolated islands, the open-air theaters carved into the cliffs, and the quaint fishing villages.
"This is Cornwall. We could have gone south and crossed the English Channel directly to London."
"But if I want to fly south, I can't find my way."
Above a vast sea of clouds, Harry suddenly heard Ron's voice.
Although he couldn't see Ron's expression, he could sense a hint of unease in it.
What are you trying to say?
"I think," Ron paused, "That we might be a little late getting to London."
"It's nothing," Harry said, brushing his hand through the clouds. "What's the big deal? It's so much fun. I was worried we'd get there too early."
However, a few hours later, Harry had to admit that some of the fun was gradually fading.
Although Ron was farsighted enough to bring plenty of supplies for the long journey—thirsty chilled Pumpkin Juice, hunger-fighting Chocolate Frog, and time-killing Confringo cards.
However, the sound of the card games exploding is unbearable for a car. Every time there's an explosion, the car shakes.
The Chocolate Frog and the toffee under the dashboard made their mouths dry.
Although there was chilled Pumpkin Juice, it had long since spoiled and turned sour in the clouds closer to the sun. This made Harry deeply regret not having learned the Freezing Charm.
If Basil or Hermione were here, this would definitely not have happened.
Both he and Ron had taken off their smocks, but Harry's shirt was so wet it clung to the back of the chair, and his glasses kept slipping down his nose.
He had lost all interest in appreciating the fantastical shapes of the clouds and began to miss the Burrow, dozens of miles away, where Mrs. Weasley was a master of all sorts of household magic.
Even when she's not around, orchids that constantly release cool air will be placed in every corner of the house when the weather is hot.
Now, even when you open the window, you get hot air instead of cold air.
"Finally...finally we're in London." Another hour later, Ron said in a hoarse voice.
The sun began to sink below the clouds, turning the sea of clouds pink.
The entire city of London lay below them, shrouded in mist and shimmering faintly.
Below the clouds, it was much darker.
Ron tried to press the accelerator to climb higher, but the engine started to groan.
Harry and Ron looked at each other uneasily.
"Maybe it's just tired," Ron said. "It's never come this far before..."
Hearing the increasingly loud wails, Harry suggested, "Let's go down. The highway is down below. You know where Grimmauld Place is, right?"
Sirius said in his letter that it was very close to King's Cross Station, only a 20-minute walk away.
"It takes less than two minutes by car."
"Okay." Ron gripped the steering wheel, and the car started to descend. "But I'm not very familiar with London traffic."
"I only know the general direction."
As the car descended, the wailing sound also began to decrease.
Harry finally breathed a sigh of relief. "You don't have to really get familiar with it, and we don't have to actually drive on the highway. Just keep going downhill. You hear how much easier it is for the car?"
Beneath them were vehicles rumbling along the main road.
Ron looked around at the bustling traffic in surprise. "This is the first time I've ever seen so many cars."
Harry asked curiously, "How did you get to the station before?"
Ron scratched the back of his head. "The Floo Network. You probably haven't used it before. We all go to the Hearth Gate in Diagon Alley."
"The stove door at the Leaky Cauldron is too crowded."
"Look! Isn't that King's Cross Station?"
Harry followed the sound of Ron's invisible arm waving and looked towards the familiar platform; the plastic sign made him instantly recognize it.
Harry nodded. "Yes, that's it."
Ron released the accelerator, placed his hand on the silver invisible booster, and the car slowly descended. "That's it. Just go 300 miles forward in the opposite direction, then 700 miles to the right, and you'll be there."
Harry glanced to his left in surprise. "This looks so familiar."
Ron shrugged. "Going on a long trip is like playing Wizard's Chess. You have to think ten moves ahead before you make your next move. Haven't you noticed? Sirius left you a map. Maybe he's been waiting for the doorbell to ring one day."
You appeared at his door with a smile.
Harry opened his mouth as if to say something, but with a thud, the car landed smoothly on the road.
Ron pressed his hand down, and the next second, with a "poof," the car, Harry, and Ron reappeared.
Before Harry could even get used to the way his hands and feet looked in his new position, they arrived at Grimmauld Place.
The two quickly got out of the car.
Harry's eyes flickered as he glanced around. "Thank goodness, no police saw us. Otherwise..."
He put away his wand.
Noticing this, Ron shrank back. "You're not planning to cast a spell on Muggle, are you? Here?"
Harry nodded. "If necessary."
Ron: If Harry isn't like his dad enough, then how outrageous must Harry's dad be!
Without thinking much, he gently patted the hood of the old Ford Anglia.
"You should rest here."
The car's engine made a slight noise, and the headlights flashed in response.
"That must be 12 Grimmauld Place," Harry said, adjusting his glasses.
Its exterior was completely different from the surrounding houses; the door was dilapidated and the walls were filthy.
But the people passing by didn't even glance at it.
Their gaze was fixed only on the two houses on either side, as if they couldn't see the one in the middle at all.
People who stopped to rest also leaned against the railings of the two buildings next to them.
The railing in the middle was covered in dust, as if no one had touched it for centuries.
"This is it." Ron walked straight to the door of the neglected house.
The stone steps in front of the door were also dilapidated.
There was no sign on the door; the black paint had peeled off, and it was covered with scratches.
The silver door knocker is shaped like a coiled snake.
There was no keyhole on the door, nor was there a mailbox.
"That should be it." Ron drew his wand and knocked on the door knocker.
Crack!
A distinct sound of Apparition came from behind the door.
A deep, bullfrog-like voice followed, "Who is it? Red-haired, freckled, filthy old traitor's brat, and... Hiss! Harry Potter! The Star of Salvation will end that Half-blood demon king who's not even worth an ant's pee!"
Ron muttered, "'Little brat' must be talking about me. But it sounds so good to me! 'Half-blood demon king who's not even worth an ant's pee,' haha, that must be Voldemort!"
The next second, a series of loud metallic clanging sounds, along with the rattling of chains, began to echo from behind the door.
The door creaked open.
A head eagerly poked its head out.
It had a bald head and two large, bat-like ears filled with a clump of white fur.
His eyes were bloodshot, watery and grayish, and his fleshy nose was very big, almost like a pig's nose.
But what's most striking is his wrinkled, loose skin—several times more than his body actually needs.
He wore a clean white cloth around his waist, and a luxurious gold pendant box that was completely out of place with his simple attire.
His gaze bypassed Ron directly. "You must be Harry Potter!"
"The prodigal son's godson, and the benefactor who avenged young master Regulus Black!"
"I'm going to call that spendthrift son right now!"
With a snap, the House-elf disappeared from the spot.
Ron entered the Entrance Hall and closed the door.
She glanced at Harry helplessly. "Am I just going to be ignored like this? How can he trust us so much?"
Harry hid his wide grin, "Sirius told him about us, didn't he? But was that spendthrift referring to Sirius?"
A row of old-fashioned gas lamps on the wall lit up, casting a shimmering, unreal light that illuminated the gleaming silver wallpaper and vibrant green carpet in the long, gloomy Entrance Hall.
A spiderweb-shaped chandelier flickered overhead, and portraits, blackened by the passage of time, hung crookedly on the wall.
The chandelier and the candlestick on the wobbly table next to it were both made in the shape of a large snake.
Typical Slytherin style.
With a series of hurried footsteps, Sirius emerged from a door at the other end of the Entrance Hall.
He strode toward them, a warm smile on his face.
His face was no longer as thin as before; the contours of his face had become rounder, and his pale skin radiated a reddish glow.
The House-elf followed behind him, carrying a large round plate with a green cushion on it.
There seems to be something on top of it.
"Harry!" Sirius hugged Harry tightly, glancing back at him. "And you, Ron."
Ron snorted and dodged Sirius's hug. "No need. I know I'm just an extra."
"Damn!" Ron gasped, as if he had seen something that surprised him.
He pointed to the cushion. "What's that?"
Sirius ruffled his hair, his face showing a mixture of sorrow and joy. "This is my brother, Regulus Black."
Harry rubbed his eyes. "Did he drink Shrinking Potion? No, even if he did."
Because there was a tiny, cartoon-like figure lying on the cushion, fast asleep.
Sirius sighed, "That's a long story."
Next, he recounted how Kreacher's return to the Black family was discovered, the story of Regulus Black came to light, and how Basil, accompanied by Dumbledore and Nick Flume, appeared, broke into Voldemort's cave, and retrieved Regulus Black, who had become Inferi.
"After that, I asked Narcissa to Kreacher back."
Harry was a little disappointed. "Oh, then we just missed Basil. What bad luck."
"What's the deal with Regulus Black?" Ron asked in a low voice.
Sirius leaned against the wall, lost in thought. "To be honest, I really don't know how to thank him."
"It was Basil. He managed to bring Regulus Black back to life."
Time: 10 hours ago.
In Regulus Black's room, he helplessly rested his head on Regulus Black's cold arm.
He didn't even dare to remove the Petrifying Charm that had been placed on his younger brother.
Otherwise, Regulus Black, now Inferi, would bite off his neck out of hatred for the living.
Then, Basil appeared, holding the book "The Making of a Perfect Ghoul Companion".
"Thank you," Sirius quickly stood up, wiping away his tears. "Give me the book."
Basil looked at him with a mysterious expression. "You really want to use it?"
"You should know by now that I'm not simple."
Sirius exclaimed in delight, "You have a better way? That's right, you possess the power of King Arthur and Merlin!"
Basil waved his hand, "No need to address me as 'you'."
"I have my own purposes too. Have you heard of Norse mythology?"
Sirius nodded, "Runic writing is an essential part of studying Ancient Runes and delving into the texts that are indispensable for magic."
"The same is true of Norse Mythology."
Basil put down his book. "Giant are the earliest life forms in Norse Mythology."
"But the gods later prevailed and defeated the Giant. They killed Ymir, the progenitor of the Giant."
"The gods used Ymir's body to arrange the Dadi and the sky."
"Ymir's head became the sky, his brains became the clouds, his body became the Dadi, his blood became the ocean, his bones became the mountains, and his hair became the trees."
"When Ymir's body rotted and maggots grew, these maggots became Light Elf and Dark Elf."
"What do you mean by this?" Sirius asked tentatively.
Basil, with his hands behind his back, circled the bed. "A large part of the magic passed down by Merlin also comes from Norse Mythology."
"One of them is particularly interesting."
"Just as elves can be born from the maggots that grow from the rotting corpse of Ymir."
"The magical substances in the corpses of Magical Creatures can also give birth to elves."
"Make your decision," Basil stopped in his tracks. "Is it to let Regulus Black remain a living corpse forever, or to bring this corpse to life and make it a real being? A living being with a heartbeat, temperature, the ability to cry, laugh, breathe, eat, and excrete."
"And then Basil turned Regulus Black into an elf?" Ron stared with wide eyes, his mouth agape in an "O" shape.
Sirius nodded. "Yes. But this seems to be causing him a lot of trouble."
"He didn't wait for Dumbledore and the others; he simply disappeared on his own."
"Let me tell them that I will return to France tomorrow."
Harry shook his head. "He probably just doesn't want to be questioned by Dumbledore and Nick Flume."