My understanding is incredible, I built a floating city in Hogwarts

Harry didn't hear Ron's explanation, his gaze still staring obsessively at the fluttering drapery, as if drawn to some mysterious power.

Ron glanced at Neville, who suddenly walked over to Harry, picked him up, and led him back to the stone bench at the bottom. The group climbed all the way up and soon returned to the door. Ron glanced back at the place known as the Hall of Death and looked around at his surroundings. He nodded in satisfaction, then withdrew his gaze and winked at Ginny beside him.

Ginny nodded, then raised her wand and streaked a mysterious symbol through the air, then decisively imprinted a burning X on the door With a rumbling sound, they returned to the dark circular room again.

Ron squinted his eyes at Harry, sensing the thoughts in his mind, and said slowly, "This so-called Hall of Death is probably the only thing most wizards know about the Department of Mysteries. After all, it was once used as a death chamber and is full of horror and mystery. Although Hogwarts doesn't teach about it now, legends and stories are still passed down among young wizards. "

After a pause, he continued, "For young wizards, or weak-willed wizards, they are easily confused by visions beyond the curtain. Those who have never been exposed to death for 23 will interpret these visions based on their own attitudes towards death, either extreme fear or indifference. And those who have ever had a brushing shoulder with death, whether they themselves or witnessed the death of others, may be drawn to the curtain and unable to look away. "

Speaking of this, Ron's voice suddenly became low and mournful: "And those wizards who have lost their loved ones may hear the whispers of the dead here. The drapery can give you the illusion that the deceased you are missing is standing on the other side. "

Harry came back to his senses in a trance, his face a little scared and confused. The room almost made him forget what he had come for, and he seemed to be still immersed in the visions and whispers.

Ron walked up to Harry with a calm face and pressed his left hand firmly on his shoulder, "Harry, I just sensed your thoughts, and you seem to feel the curtains gentle? You have just developed a strong desire to go through the curtains. I understand how you feel when you are carrying too many burdens, going through too much pain, and longing to see your loved ones. But it also means that you are subconsciously tempted by death!"

Hearing this, Harry subconsciously nodded in agreement. However, at that moment, Ron slapped him on the shoulder, waking him up from his lost thoughts.

"Harry, this is no excuse for you to escape reality and avoid responsibility!"

Harry's shoulder was twisted from the pain, but it was like a sobering agent that regained clarity to his brain. He finally remembered the dream—Sirius imprisoned, bound, and tortured endlessly, while he was stupidly obsessed with the mysterious curtain.

Ron let go of his hand, and Harry staggered back a few steps, rubbing his red, swollen shoulders with shame on his face. He didn't dare to make eye contact with Ron, and his gaze unconsciously glanced in the opposite direction to the door just now.

"Thank you...... I'm fine, let's move on. Harry's voice trembled.

Ron nodded to the others, motioning for them to follow Harry's pace. The wall began to spin again, and Harry pushed the door open again, revealing a new scene in front of them.

"This is it!" Harry's voice was filled with excitement, his eyes locked on the diamond-bright leaping light, and an inexplicable sense of familiarity welled up in his heart.

As his eyes gradually adjusted, he could see the whole picture of the room clearly. Countless clocks and bookshelves are hung on the walls and bookshelves, they are of all sizes and shapes, some solemn and elegant, some small and exquisite, some are grandfather clocks and travel clocks, or they are hung between the bookshelves, or they stand on a table as long as a whole room, these clocks seem to tell the story of time, and their rapid ticking sounds converge into a unique symphony that fills the whole room, like thousands of small footsteps. The diamond-like leap of light came from a bell-shaped glass dome standing tall at the end of the room.

"We need to hurry. Ron frowned unconsciously, obviously a little tired of the cacophony of noise.

He looked around, trying to find a place that was relatively quiet, but quickly gave up. The ticking of clocks is everywhere, as if time has been infinitely amplified here.

"This way!" Harry's heart pounded as soon as he knew they were on the right track, and he couldn't wait to move forward, swaying through the narrow gap between the tables, just as he had done in his dreams. Ron and the others followed, their steps light and swift, for fear of missing something.

As they approached the towering bell-shaped glass cover, Ginny suddenly pointed to its center and exclaimed, "Oh, look!"

In the flickering light, they saw a small, jewel-like bright egg floating in the air. It emits a faint glow, as if it were a treasure that has been left behind in the world.

Just as they were staring intently at the egg, it cracked with a snap. A beautiful hummingbird emerges from its egg, its feathers shining brilliantly, its wings flapping lightly, as if it is about to fly into the sky. However, as the air currents fell, the bird's feathers were stained and wet again, and it struggled to fly, but eventually landed at the very bottom of the glass enclosure and was again locked in the egg.

"Keep walking, don't stop!" Ron urged.

He noticed that Ginny seemed to be fascinated by the process of the egg turning into a bird, and his steps were visibly hesitant, so he patted Ginny on the shoulder, "We have time to visit here in the future, and I can even bring you here myself, but now, we have more important things to do." "

Ginny nodded, obediently grabbed her brother's arm, and clung to him, completely different from the usual lively and independent image. However, others don't seem surprised by this - it is clear that the brother and sister have fallen out this semester.

The men quickly walked through the narrow gap between the tables, past the bell-shaped crystal canopy, and to the only door at the back. Ron pushed the door open, and a sense of silence came over him.

The room behind the door was a stark contrast to the previous room full of bells and noise. The room was as tall and empty as a church, and it was filled with high shelves with tiny, dusty glass balls on display. Under each glass ball is a small yellowed label, as if to tell their own story.

The candles on either side of the walls emit a faint blue glow, adding a touch of mystery to this dimly lit passage. Harry and Ron led the others through two rows of towering glass balls, their footsteps echoing through the silent space. Occasionally, a few glass balls shimmered softly as they passed.

"Ninety-seven platoons have arrived. Ron's voice suddenly rang out, shattering the silence around him. He stopped, his gaze turning to Harry.

Harry looked a little at a loss at the moment, and he looked around,147 and the scene in front of him gradually overlapped with the memory in his dream, but only the important figure was missing.

"I don't understand...... This is the place in my dreams, but Sirius is not here, he may ......" Harry's voice grew muffled, with a hint of confusion and loss. (If you read a violent novel, go to Feilu Novel Network!)

"Harry. Ron called softly, pulling Harry's thoughts back to reality. He followed Ron's line of sight and saw Ron pointing to a dusty glass ball on a shelf. "Give me that one and don't touch anything else. There was a hint of caution in Ron's tone.

Harry was a little puzzled as to why Ron didn't do it himself, but he obediently stepped forward. When he got closer to the glass ball, he realized that it was not as cold as he imagined, but revealed a warm light, as if it had been in the sun for a long time. On the shelf beneath the glass sphere is a yellowed label with a date and some mysterious abbreviations in delicate lettering.

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

The Dark Lord and (?) Harry Potter.

Harry read the words on the label, and an inexplicable premonition welled up in his heart. He carefully grasped the orb with his fingers, feeling the faint heat it emanated.

Harry was expecting, and even a little desperate for something dramatic, to happen. He hopes that this seemingly ordinary glass ball will reveal the true purpose of their trip and bring some value to this long and crisis-filled journey. He slowly removed the glass ball from the shelf, staring at it with wide eyes.

Nothing happened, and Harry handed the crystal ball to Ron in disappointment.

Ron took it carefully, gently brushing the dust off it, and examined it carefully. Suddenly, he motioned for everyone to come closer, blocking the others behind him, and there was a hint of vigilance on his face.