Dementors of the Blakes

(This volume is called Sirius No.1)

In the late summer of 2005, an unknown town on the outskirts of London.

This is a Muggle town, and some ancient traces can be found everywhere, and it is a place full of nostalgia.

Over the past few years, I have become more and more unaccustomed to living in a wizard's territory, oh, maybe the word "unaccustomed" should not be used, it just feels a little awkward.

Harry and Ginny are married, they have a cute little James, and now they have Albus, the kid with the same green eyes as Lily, of course, the rebuilt Potter's old house naturally doesn't care so much A few people, but I always feel a little out of place.

The life of my godson is very good, I am very pleased, but after the comfort, I feel a little melancholy.

I moved out of Potter's old house, and then returned to Black's old house in Grimmauld Place, rejecting Harry's offer to stay.

I think I should give their family an independent space. Although I am Harry's godfather and his elders, although I feel very warm in Potter's house, maybe it is too beautiful, but it makes me feel separated and empty .

I think I'm probably crazy to go back to this dark, shabby place with dark rooms, a screaming portrait and a crazy house-elf.

This place is completely different from the reconstructed Potter's old house, or even the Burrow house rebuilt by Ron and the others, without the breath of a living person.

All of this is due to the dream that has been haunting me recently.

I dreamed about things from ten years ago.

No, even earlier, when I was still in Azkaban.

A dark cell, flickering candles, and a strange dementor.

That dementor, many years ago, was gone forever.

I've been thinking about who he is, it's not what a dementor should be at all, it's more like a human in a cloak, maybe I already have the answer in my heart, but I never admit it.

After I met Harry, I kept busy with his business, and then the war.

I didn't die in the war, but Lupine did, James has been dead for years, and Peter is a traitor again.

Back then... long gone, I have no friends, no lover, and only Harry is left in terms of family affection, but I still have half my life to live, so I will naturally feel lonely.

The days of the war were very busy, so I naturally didn't think about unnecessary things.

After the war, the finishing and restoration work became even more busy. After several years of hard work, the wizarding world finally calmed down, and it was time to start busy with Harry and Ginny's love affair and wedding.

Not long after that, Ginny was pregnant, and little James...

In short, there are too many things. I am so busy that I completely forgot that there was a dementor. He should actually be...

Yes, I forgot.

But now, I can no longer find a reason to be busy.

So, I began to frequently think of some very old things, things that I would not think of before.

The dementor, the Black family, Bella who didn't miss the spell, many, many.

And every night in the dream, it always stays on the hand of a dementor, holding a wand in that hand, and the gesture has the habits and traces of another guy.

That gesture, and his handwriting, reminded me of an answer that allowed me to escape.

So, I couldn't help it, and I moved back to Black's old house.

Because during the war, this place was once used as the base of the Order of the Phoenix. After a lot of tossing during that time, it was even worse than the dilapidated one before.

The portrait of Mrs. Black hanging behind the curtain is no longer screaming abuse as before. She is extremely indifferent to my return, no, maybe it is numb.

The crazy Kreacher is missing, maybe he is hiding in a corner of the house talking to himself, or maybe he is already dead.

Here, there is no trace of the past.

do i really want to live here

I walked all the way up, and then came to the door of a room.

I pushed the door open without being stopped by Kreacher, maybe... the old house elf who had been in poor health was really dead. I looked around the room, and it hadn't been cleaned for a long time.

Except that the defensive magic of the whole house is barely functioning, everything else... is really gone.

I entered this room and slept in it for the night.

This is the room of my brother Regulus Black. When he died, I was busy helping James avoid Voldemort's pursuit and protect the newborn baby Harry and Lily. I remember when I heard the news of his death, what is my reaction?

"That stupid and cowardly brother, who sold his soul to Voldemort, is doomed to this fate."

But he didn't sell his soul to the Dark Lord, he betrayed him, and then secretly exchanged Voldemort's Horcrux.

It's all a secret that Harry discovered, and he told me.

At that time, what was my reaction?

I refused to believe it and still tried to forget the fact that I was afraid to face it.

Regulus...he is dead, I shouldn't think about some illusory things.

The next day, I left Grimmauld Square. That place was really unsuitable for people to live in.

In the end, I chose a Muggle town as my habitat.

Because I found that no place in the wizarding world seemed suitable to be my long-term residence.

Actually the Muggle place...is pretty good too, isn't it?

Over the past few years, Muggles have developed so rapidly that it has reached an unbelievable level.

Coupled with the demise of Voldemort, many wizarding families who had not had a clear stand tried to get involved with Muggles in order to show that they were definitely not pure-blood fanatics, which promoted the understanding of the Muggle world in the wizarding world.

In fact, Muggles are not as weak as we imagined.

As far as I am concerned, I really can't adapt to the "breath of the times" of Muggles, and I can't live in high-rise buildings.

I chose this very natural and quaint town in the suburbs.

There are too many things involved in the wizarding world. If I want to forget it completely, I have to leave.

So, I lived a comfortable life for a while, similar to waiting for death in the old age.

There is a bar in the town, which is my favorite place to go.

The atmosphere of the bar is very good. There is no music that breaks the ears of the modern Muggles, and there is no strange dance of twisting into a ball. Instead, it maintains some retro styles of the last century.

The wine there is very pure, and there are several signature sommelier owners who brew it themselves, which is simply great.

I often go there to have a drink or two when I have nothing to do, and then sit in the corner, listening to those Muggles chatting and fighting for drinks, and listening to it all night, it doesn't feel bad.

I even started to think about getting a dog, not a special kind of dog in the wizarding world, but a dumb Muggle dog, and then hide in my house and I can turn into a dog and play with it.

This kind of life is even better than when living in Harry's house.

On this day, I came to the bar as usual, ordered a large glass of beer and a few appetizers, then nestled into the table in the corner, and started my leisurely drinking life.

The proprietress Emma always said that I looked like a frustrated middle-aged man who drank all day.

Oh, she doesn't understand, I'm not drinking, it's the joy of my life.

Although in the eyes of other residents in the town, I do look like a down-and-out person, at a young age, without a family, living alone, with an incompatible temperament, and likes to drink in the corner of the bar...

Merlin testified that I'm just not used to getting along with Muggles, and I'm not withdrawn. In fact, every Gryffindor can't be withdrawn and taciturn, even if life is really lonely.

When there was only one third of the beer in the glass, the door of the bar was pushed open again.

I maintained the movement of drinking and raised my eyes casually, but I was shocked suddenly, poured all the wine into my nose, and choked all at once.

Cough cough...cough cough...what the hell is that?

A man, a very formal, even a bit flirtatious man in a suit, entered this bar.

Whether it's his exaggerated hat, flashing brooch, straight pants, or shiny pointed leather shoes, it's not the point that makes me spit.

The point is, his whole body is wrapped in a layer of snow-white bandages, except for a pair of black eyes, the others... are all tightly wrapped, not even a trace of skin is exposed!

……What's this?Egyptian mummy or bandage freak? ? !

I'm terrified.

But what terrified me the most was the reaction of the other people in the bar.

Why are they all so calm, with such a nonchalant look?

Could it be... is it a Muggle fashion this year to wear a layer of bandages and then put on clothes?

I was dumbfounded watching the boss Nian Emma warmly greeted the bandage weirdo, and suddenly felt...the world of Muggles is also very unsafe.

In terms of aesthetic lethality alone, it is already amazing.

-

I, Sirius Black, a wizard lurking in a Muggle town, met the weirdest Muggle I've ever seen, a bandage-loving eccentric with uncanny taste.