Dementors of the Blakes

In fact, there are not a few prisoners who fell ill and died in Azkaban. You can’t expect dementors to cook potions for you, and don’t expect outside humans to provide doctors and medicine supplies. Good choice.

But generally speaking, if you really want to get sick, it's really bad luck. The environment here is cold, and there are dementors everywhere.

I was at a loss, I didn't know how to react, I should have left him, I have not treated him well in the past few years, but why can't I move away now?

I think, I don't want him to die, I can torture his mind, take away his happiness, pry into his memory, but I can't let him slip away from me, even in the form of death .

I remember saying that I have no memory of the past, that in the few hours I have had, I have never been strongly attached to anything, Sirius Black being the only precedent.

I have no regrets, no guilt, and I don't care that I used this weird persistence to oppress this man, and even completely destroyed his health, but I do mind his death.

So, I want to help him, he can't die of illness.

I have to figure it out.

I went to find the house elves in the castle, they are magical creatures, they have a direct contract with the castle, and they are responsible for a series of logistics of the daily diet and life of the prisoners in Azkaban, at the same time, they do not Fear of my race's instinct, they can understand my race's language.

To be honest, without the existence of these creatures, our family's life in Azkaban would definitely not be so nourishing. We even have to cook for these prisoners ourselves to solve the problem of feeding them...

This... Let's not mention whether the tribe can learn to cook. After all, we also have hands. Whether the prisoners dare to eat the food made for them by the dementors is also a big question. So, the house elves The existence of is mandatory.

In Azkaban, the prisoners used a narrow and thin piece of broken stuff, which was really not suitable for a patient with a fever, not to mention that the cell was so cold.

And we dementors...we don't need to sleep, let alone cover us...

I called one of the house elves by the name of my family's communication method, hoping that it would go to the castle to find a thicker quilt, and I asked him for a towel, a bucket of ice cubes, and some clean drinking water .

I don't know why I thought of these things myself, but I have a vague feeling that I might need them, given that potions are absolutely out of reach.

Fortunately, the house-elf really is omnipotent, it didn't even ask me what to do with these, and it quickly found it for me.

The house-elf disappeared after completing its task, and I leisurely took these things to the bedside.

Naturally, I suppressed all my instincts and aura. Sirius' mental state could not withstand another round of persecution. I approached his bed, trying to tear off the ragged quilt on him.

He seemed to be curled up all over, trying to hide himself under the quilt, holding on tightly with both hands, and I couldn't get it off no matter what.

For this reason, I had to let out a bit of a gloomy breath. He froze all of a sudden, and when I loosened my strength, I finally snatched the broken quilt from his hand.

He made a little unconscious sound, pitiful, and made me feel like an evil uncle who snatched candy from a kid. It's really a sin.

I hurriedly threw the hard, broken quilt aside, and then pulled the newly brought big quilt to cover him. In fact, the quilt has been piled up in the castle for a long time, and it is still a little damp, but you can't count on me I would go to the balcony to dry the quilts for others, not to mention that the island is located in the cold north, so the quilts that are aired out will not become warm, but will turn into ice cubes.

I pulled the quilt up to his chin and wrapped him tightly. He seemed to have noticed something, rubbed against the edge of the quilt, and touched my hand.

The beard is piercing to death, and the rotten flesh can also feel it!

Although I complained like this in my heart, I touched his face with my backhand. Although I have been looking at his memory for the past few years, because the memory is reviewed from his angle and line of sight, I rarely see him. What I look like is only occasionally glimpsed in a few mirrors and reflections.

So, I have been wondering what he should look like now.

It's a pity that I can't see it. My family has never been curious about the appearance of human beings. I think I may be the first.

I followed his outline and touched it bit by bit.

He is very thin, there is no flesh on his face, and the contours of his face are very sharp.

The bridge of the nose is high, and it is indeed a handsome skeleton.

His eyes are tightly closed, the eyelashes are very long and dense, under a thin layer of eyelids, there should be a pair of gray pupils, but I don't know, when he opens his eyes, will he still have the same eyes as before? Bright and deep.

His hair was all stuck together, and there was actually a place to take a bath in the prison, but because it was troublesome to arrange for the prisoners to take a bath, it only happened a few times a month, and the sanitary conditions were naturally worrying.

Of course I don't think he is dirty, because the dementor itself is not much better, I just feel a little sad, the prison life and spiritual oppression have left terrible marks on this man, and one of them Mostly, all of it is my fault.

Although I have a general idea in my heart that he will not be happy, but I can't see it. I can only feel human emotions and smell their scents, but I can't really witness their details and conditions. I have been stuck in him. In those happy memories, although I understand rationally that it is just the past, but the overall influence he left on me is still the arrogant and eye-catching boy in my memory.

But the details from my subordinates clearly told me that he was no longer.

After many years, I am finally sober.

I had an indescribably strange feeling in my heart, and unconsciously my fingers moved down and touched his lips.

It's dry and cracked, not just due to illness, he probably hasn't drank water for a long time, and he doesn't know how many meals he hasn't eaten. The house elf will send the prisoner's food to the cell, and then come back to collect it after a while Drop the tableware and leftover food, they don't care if you eat or not, let alone feed you because you are sick.

If I hadn't found him ill, he might really be dying here.

He was probably really hungry. I felt uncomfortable for a moment, and forgot to move my finger. He might have felt something pressing there, so he moved his lips unconsciously, and opened his mouth in a daze. Then he bit my finger.

Strange, good teeth!

I was stunned for a moment, he had a fever, his mouth was hot, he probably thought that he had really bitten something edible, he would not let go, even licked it with his tongue again and again, like A hungry puppy.

But unfortunately, the dementor's hands are all rotten and scabbed dead flesh, and he doesn't feel sick at all. He doesn't feel sick in his mouth at first, but after a few sucks, the taste will disappear immediately.

He finally understood that this is not delicious, he spat out my fingers with a "bah", and made a pitiful whimpering sound. I hesitated and tapped his cheek, and found that his whole face was covered with blood. Wrinkled into a ball, it seems extremely wronged.

I... I was regretting why my hand was not roasting sausages. I squeezed his swollen face. I secretly decided, but when he wakes up, I will definitely ask the house elf to cook him a special big meal. meal.

So get well soon for the feast.

But now, although there is no big meal, you can drink a little water first.

I tried my best to feed him water with a cup, but even though he opened his mouth obediently subconsciously, most of the water was spilled out because my level was too smelly. The quilt was completely wet.

So I called the house-elf again, and I asked him, "Are there any milk bottles in the castle?"

The house elf slammed into the wall in panic, very well, I understand, there is no such thing as a baby bottle that is convenient for feeding water...

So, I changed my words and said to it: "Bring me a teapot with a spout."

It was brought to me quickly.

I poured water into the small teapot, pointed the spout at Sirius's jaw, and poured it in slowly.

Very good, this time it really was a success.

I am relieved.

After feeding the water, I wrapped the ice cube in a towel and placed it on Sirius' forehead safely. This is all I can do. He will definitely get better. A wizard's body is much healthier than that of ordinary humans. That's right.

But what if he doesn't get up?What if he still died of illness?

I silently floated beside Sirius' bed, secretly thinking in my heart that if he still dies, then before he dies of illness, I will suck his soul away, and he will belong to me forever.

So, for your own sake, please get well too.

-

I—— a dementor, a dementor who is working as a nanny, was sucked by a human with a fever, I really want to tell him, don't act like a baby to me, I'm not your mother...