September 1.

Felix got up early, transited through Diagon Alley, and returned to London.

He had to do the shopping for the new school year.

In addition to updating his film library, he also bought a lot of the latest books and clothes, but most importantly, he found a map shop.

This is a small shop with a sense of age. On the quaint brown shelves, there are all kinds of maps.

There are maps of London and the British Isles, and they are used for different purposes - aerial photos, tourist maps, traffic maps...

When Felix was about to buy a thick atlas, he asked the clerk casually, "Have you heard of Grimmauld Place?"

The clerk pushed his glasses and looked up from a color album in front of him...

So thirty minutes later, he was standing in a dilapidated neighborhood in the old city of London.

The houses here are quite old, with peeling walls, revealing large areas of ugly gray. Frankly speaking, he didn't expect that the old house of the Black family was hidden here.

He walked around the area. Some houses were still inhabited, but some were obviously abandoned - there was a lot of garbage piled up at the door, and the windows were smashed.

On a more desolate lawn, his eyes fell on a house with the house number 11 Grimmauld Place.

He looked to both sides. On the left was No. 10, and on the right was No. 13.

"Interesting, is even the wizard's vision blocked?"

Felix stood there, constantly examining something.

An old woman walked over slowly with a cloth bag, "Young man, what are you doing here?"

"Visiting a pen pal, ma'am. The address given is not very clear, I'm trying to identify it." Felix evaded.

"I've lived here for more than 50 years, since I was born... Maybe I can help, tell me."

"Uh, Grimmauld Place in the old town in the west of London. The house number at the back is blurred. I guess it's No. 12." Felix looked at the enthusiastic old woman helplessly.

"Number 12? That's impossible, young man. There is no such house." The old woman raised her voice, "You must have remembered it wrong... or your friend played a bad joke on you."

"I find it strange too," Felix pointed to the house in front of him, "This is Number 11, and that's Number 13. But there is no Number 12..."

The old woman laughed heartily, "...You are not the only one who has this doubt." She blinked and lowered her voice and said, "This is a mistake. I heard from my grandmother, oh, she also heard from others, that the people who built the house were a bunch of fools, and the workers completed their work, which is not bad from today's perspective. But they hung the wrong house number, and the city hall didn't find it when it inspected, so the mistake was preserved."

"I remember that people have given feedback several times over the years, but there has been no response. You know, this place is not valued at all. Maybe in a dozen years, it will be demolished as an eyesore... Anyway, I will not agree to it, and I will not let my grandson agree to it - he is only two years old, but there is a saying that education should start early, and there are always some traditions that need to be maintained." She tilted her head and said humorously.

The old woman was quite talkative, and Felix also learned some not-so-reliable legends from her.

For example, "Number 12 Grimmauld Place is real, it's a haunted house." Or, "The workers didn't put up the wrong house number back then. A noble bought this place, but then the house disappeared..."

Felix was very interested in these legends, and he exclaimed from time to time, which made the old woman look at him with more satisfaction. "There are not many young people like you who know how to respect the elderly. Unlike the family next to me, they still play stereos in the middle of the night, making people restless. I knocked on the door several times but it was useless."

Felix handed her a small card. For a moment, the old woman seemed to see a golden light flashing on the surface of the card, but it might also be reflected sunlight.

"Madam, you can write a note on it and slip it to the family through the crack of the door, warning them to pay attention to other people's feelings. Well, it's better to attach the number of the police."

"Will it work?" The old woman took the card doubtfully, "People here are not very polite."

"Try it, it won't get worse."

After declining her invitation, Felix cast an illusion spell on himself and stood quietly in the same place.

A few people walked by from time to time in the block, but no one paid attention to him.

At about noon, he took out his wand and kept swiping, pushing away the layers of fog, and his body seemed to squeeze into the air.

His figure disappeared.

In a gap, Felix moved forward with difficulty, but was immediately blocked by a wall of air. It was a very sophisticated magical barrier.

Then he heard a shrill scream. The sound was so unpleasant that Felix couldn't help shivering. After a few seconds, he was repelled by a huge force and stood on the lawn of Grimmauld Place again.

"Is there someone inside?"

Felix said doubtfully, 'Principal Black didn't mention this...' But thinking about it carefully, he thought it might be a house-elf.

After hesitating for a moment, Felix chose to leave. He could indeed squeeze in again and break the barrier with his profound magical attainments, but this time might last for an hour or two, or even several days.

If there was someone inside, whether it was a wizard or a house-elf, they would not be indifferent to his attack.

'At least I know this place. '

Felix took a deep look and disappeared.

...

At the same time, the Hogwarts Express.

"Did you see that, Harry? Malfoy is a coward. He ran away when he saw the professor was around. It's in line with their family tradition!" Ron said a little sarcastically, but he couldn't be blamed because Malfoy had just mocked his family.

"Ron," Hermione said sharply, pointing at the professor lying on the small table. "Be careful..."

The three of them took a look and saw that the down-and-out professor was still sleeping soundly. They continued chatting, but their voices were much lower.

"I'm serious. If he dares to make fun of my family again, I'm going to grab his head - Harry, what's wrong with you?" Ron looked at Harry and asked.

"What?"

"You're so calm, even when Malfoy was around. You just naturally pulled out your wand and looked at Malfoy, as if he was a caterpillar or something."

"I feel the same way, Harry." Hermione said seriously.

Harry scratched his head: "Maybe it has something to do with my strength? When Malfoy provoked us, I didn't feel too angry. It was like watching a performance. It's very strange..."

He looked at Ron and Hermione and said in an uncertain tone: "I think it may be because even if we really fight, I can easily win. I expected this result in advance."

Ron made a strange cry, "So cool, man!"

"Keep your voice down, Ron--" Hermione reminded him.

But he didn't pay any attention at all, and said excitedly: "Tell us more about the details of Professor Heppe's special training for you, Harry! I'm so envious!"

Harry repeated helplessly: "To be honest, it was not a pleasant experience. I don't know how I persisted, but Professor Heppe said that this opportunity is rare..."

He began to talk, and Ron and Hermione stared at him intently.

No one noticed that the professor, who was sleeping quietly beside him, shook his body slightly.