Chapter 1691: ?Funeral arrangements

The breakfast at Broken Cauldron Bar was terribly unpalatable, and it was completely incomparable to the level of Hogwarts, and even Harry always felt that the food here smelled of rags.

But he hasn't tasted even a bite of eggs for three consecutive days.

Therefore, no matter how unpalatable the meal was, he still feasted and drank two more glasses of milk.

Compared to the situation where the guests were watching like rare animals when they first came to the Broken Cauldron Bar, Harry now feels that he is a roadside pedestrian, no one pays attention to him at all, at most he just looks at him from a distance. The lightning scar on his forehead, nothing more.

The adult wizards who drank here didn't know whether they drank it from last night until now, or if they came here to drink it early in the morning. Harry could only hear that their current topics were all about Hermione Granger.

I took the courses of seven colleges in one year and got all excellent grades. This is something that Dumbledore has never done before. The Daily Prophet seems to have been bought off, blowing up Miss Granger.

Even some foreign newspapers brought by wizards from some avenues, including the New York Phantom, are propagating Hermione's contribution to the development of friendship among the younger generations of nations.

Not to mention that some rumors in the school have also circulated into the magic world. Now it is generally believed that she is like the reincarnation of Ms. Ravenclaw and the hope for the future of Britain.

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

He asked Sirius who was eating a sandwich next to him. The other party obviously knew what he was relying on, but it was just inconvenient to tell Harry. The behavior of deliberately changing the subject made Sirius' expression very funny:

"Ah, no, um, there will be Quidditch World Cup finals sometime later, do you want to watch it?"

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

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

Only this time, the Godfather led him to a shop he hadn't been in in the past few years, the Wilson Alchemy Automatic Wand Shop next to Ollivander's Wand Shop.

There are many reasons for not going in. On the one hand, Harry has been growing up in a Muggle family. He knows guns. He doesn't think children should go to gun shops, and it's all consumer fraud, right? Say the gun is an automatic wand...

Besides, this is a shop opened by professors. Students are always afraid of teachers. No one wants to be caught by professors during the holidays.

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

Dumbledore was holding a pistol and looking into the muzzle with interest; while Professor McGonagall was reprimanding several shop assistants with an expression of hatred for iron and steel; Snape sat in the corner of the shop, keeping his face Expressionless; Professor Flitwick was talking to Professor Wilson behind the counter, but because he was too short, people who couldn't see him at all could only hear the voice.

Harry found that Ron’s family was also here, most of them, that is, the Weasleys, along with Ron and Ginny. The two students looked very uncomfortable on this occasion, but Mr. Weasley was holding one. Love the assault rifle.

"Go, I'll talk to the principal and them."

Sirius pushed Harry's back and signaled him to go and find his classmates to play, and Harry had longed for this. He saw Ron biting the pen and writing a reply to himself. Hedwig was standing on his shoulder. He spotted Harry earlier.

"Why are you here?"

Harry leaned over, greeted the Weasleys, and leaned closer to Ron's ear.

Ron spread his hands in distress. He took the opportunity to tore the letter paper to pieces: "I'm about to write you a reply to ask about this. I was caught by my mother early this morning and stuffed it into the fireplace. I am still dizzy."

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

Harry answered the question and greeted Ginny again, but the little girl just smiled politely, she was still looking in the direction of the door, as if expecting Hermione to come in.

Ron rolled his eyes and slumped into his chair boredly: "But I have never heard of my family being so close to the Black family. You know, we are hostile to most pure-blooded lunatics."

"I don't know that, but I know I'm going crazy at home." Harry squeezed to Ron, and the two sat on a chair next to each other: "Is there anything fun here? You take the wizard Is the chess yet? I think the adults will have to talk for a while."

Ron seemed to be reminded. He pulled Harry to his feet, not forgetting to catch his sister:

"I almost forgot. Our family arrived the earliest. I asked Professor Wilson. He said that we can go to the basement to play when you come. There is a shooting range, just like Miss Granger’s special shooting range at the school. I don't quite understand what it is, but the professor said you can play, shall we go there?"

Harry knows how to fart. He has seen people shooting on TV, but he has never touched it.

But immediately, as a Gryffindor student, a slave worker who had been taught by Professor McGonagall that he could not lift his head came over and said that he could provide guidance to the students.

So Harry was moved too. After getting permission from the professor and godfather, he took Ron and Ginny to the basement to play.

In the dark corner of the basement, there was a bald old grandpa with a smile on his face. He was very strange, but when they were playing with guns, they put an iron armor curse to protect the safety of several people.

Harry didn't care about the person who was like a custodian or a guard. He knew that the pistol was relatively easy to use, so under the guidance of the clerk, he played decently.

After hitting it for a while, he finally happily danced the gun in his hand after hitting the human-shaped paper target with difficulty:

"Ron! Look! This thing is much easier to use than a magic wand!"

"Great! Let me try too."

The red-haired boy felt his blood spurting just by hearing the gunshots, and he could no longer control his hands.

........................................

"It looks like you have decided."

Su Ming approached Sirius and handed him a cigarette. The two began to vomit fog. Almost at the same time, another slave worker who was scolded by Professor McGonagall took the opportunity to get out and took the initiative to send him an ashtray.

"Yes, we had a meeting, and the principal and I both approved your approach. After all, everything is risky." Sirius took a puff of cigarette, his face was very tangled: "I know some Muggles. Knowledge, when they get sick, they will go to an expert to perform a treatment called'surgery', and this is also a way to treat the disease and save people."

Su Ming smiled and nodded ~www.NovelMTL.com~ It's all here for now, and then wait for the opportunity of the Goblet of Fire.

He patted Sirius on the arm: "Wait for Lupin and the others who are late. I think we can settle Regulus before 12 noon."

Sirius rubbed his face vigorously. "Are you sure that burying him in a Muggle cemetery is the best choice?"

"Of course, after all, the thief who stole the corpse hasn't been caught, and the wizard's cemetery is not safe now. What place is more reliable than the Muggle church close to your home?"

Su Ming slowly spit out a mouthful of smoke, and the smile on his face was reduced a lot, appearing very serious:

"Don't worry, although we can't publicize this, and the funerals are limited to reliable members of the Order of the Phoenix, I promise Regulus is absolutely beautiful. I have chartered a plane, specifically from Ghana, Africa. He invited a professional team..."

　　

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