Everyday Players at Hogwarts..

Chapter 497: The Impregnable Gate

It was a familiar darkness again.

Countless glittering 'doors' in the darkness were calling him.

The door he was most familiar with, the one he entered for the first time, slowly approached him.
Harry opened his emerald eyes, and a familiar yet unfamiliar room appeared in front of him.

This is his bedroom in the Blake house. If you look at the layout of the bedroom upside down, it is no different from when he left.

He turned the snake-head-shaped bedroom doorknob and opened the door.

Rays of cold light shone on Harry's body, and combined with the silver reflective wizard robe, he now felt as if he was a ghost.

And this deep and terrifying room is his house of horror.

The mirror world is a reflection of the real world, Harry knows this very well.

So, in the real Blake house, it is also lit by candles that emit a cold light.

After he left the Black house, even the rooms on the third floor, far away from Regulus' room, were illuminated by the same cold and lonely light as yesterday's birthday.

Sirius seemed to be familiar with such lighting for Regulus.

Harry couldn't help but think so as he looked at the snake-shaped chandelier and the cool candles in the candelabra on the table next to it.

Harry began to walk down the dark stairs, and he felt very familiar with the row of wrinkled heads gathered on the plaque on the wall next to him.

He had long been accustomed to these dark wizard elements of the Black family.

Harry could see the charm even in the huge umbrella stand made from one of the troll's severed legs.

However, the appearance of the giant umbrella also meant that he had reached the first floor lobby.

It was not far from his destination for the day, the boiler room - which was Kreacher's bedroom.

Narrow stone steps; rough stone walls, deep rooms; dark ceilings and heavy iron pots and pans hanging above.
"It's worthy of being called the Grim Old Place (the abbreviation of which is Grimmauld Place)." Three minutes later, Harry, who was already standing in front of the boiler room door, couldn't help but exclaimed.

However, as Harry got closer to today's destination, the sticky, slippery and cold magic became more and more obvious.

Waves of crying and sobbing sounds came from the crack in the door.

Although there was a door between them, when Harry heard the sound, he had a series of hallucinations.

It was a clean, messy nest of cloth strips.
He saw the thing that made the sound!
The thing was shaped like a naked child, curled up in a nest, with red and rough skin, looking like it had been peeled off.

Harry swallowed. Even though the thing was small, weak, and injured, he didn't want to go near it.

But he still moved forward little by little, and his hand began to slowly reach for the door handle of the boiler room, ready to withdraw at any time.

But when his hand was already twisting the doorknob, ready to push it open, he suddenly didn't have the courage to do so, like a coward.

"Maybe saying the prayer outside the door would help."

Such thoughts kept churning in his mind.

When he came to his senses, he had already let go of the door handle and knelt in front of the boiler room door with his hands clasped together.

"The creator of countless stars, the master of the opposite world, the one who has broken away from fate and holds the divine power! People with a similar fate to yours are calling your name in your country--" Unconsciously, two identical but slightly different voices sounded from Harry's mouth.

Both of them started praying at the same time.

As the prayer progressed, he felt a grand and vast consciousness enveloping him, as comfortable and peaceful as the amniotic fluid in the mother's womb.

The hallucinations became more and more obvious. The little monster who was sobbing weakly in the cloth nest suddenly jumped up and let out a series of roars at him behind the door that could only be described as eerie and terrifying.

But the door seemed like a natural barrier, and the prayer that followed, "The remaining traces and memories will be revealed and recast under your third vision of exploring fate!" was blocked by the thin door like a bullet jam.

Harry then realized that perhaps this prayer would only work if he walked into the room or even touched the little monster.

As the prayer stopped, the sacred consciousness began to withdraw from his body.

A strange feeling, like a bride abandoned by her husband, suddenly came over her. Taking a deep breath, Harry grasped the door handle again.

"How could that be!" Harry found that he couldn't open it.

"Open Alho!" Harry pointed his wand at the place where the door lock should be and chanted.

But the door remains the same.

"Open!" Harry uttered a brutal spell that would break a door lock but would sometimes leave a smoking hole in the keyhole.

The door remained motionless.

"Open sesame!" Harry uttered an even more violent door-opening spell, which would tear the door off its hinges and chop it into firewood.

But the door was like it had been cast with multiple counter-spells, and remained unchanged.

"Thunder explosion! Shattered into pieces! In pieces! Avada is eating a big melon!" Harry gasped, looking at the familiar yet unfamiliar door.

It's not as dirty as it first appears.

But it seems that while removing the dirt, it has also been remade.

The whole door is impregnable.

Apart from the opening spell for the door, even the last destructive spell he used randomly had no effect on it.

Even the Killing Curse, which could kill everything, had no effect on it.

"Got it!" Harry seemed to have thought of something.

He pulled a knife from his robe.

This is a multi-purpose knife, one of his birthday presents.

Because in addition to being a knife, it also has the functions of an ear pick and nail clippers.

So Harry always carries it with him.

And when he was at the Weasley's house, Fred and the others also taught him how to open the door using Muggle methods.

So Harry inserted the knife through the crack between the door and the wall and cut from top to bottom, then he pulled the knife out and bumped it again with his shoulder.

But——the door was still tightly closed like before.

Not only that, but when Harry looked down, he saw that the blade had melted.

Harry sat down on the ground weakly, looking at the door which didn't look very solid.

The sobbing sound of the little monster behind the door seemed to be mocking him.

"No, there must be other ways!" Harry encouraged himself again.

The mirror world is a reflection of the real world.

The room he couldn't open was Kreacher's bedroom.

He can't, but that doesn't mean Kreacher can't.

Maybe Sirius could, too.

Perhaps it was some new enchantment Sirius had recently cast on the boiler room, a room he used as a storage room for precious items?

If all else fails, he can always write to Ryan.

With the last glimmer of hope, Harry disappeared on the spot through the smooth mirror surface of an iron basin.