Side Story 6
Star and Sea
The North Sea in 1992, out of sight of the Muggles,
Azkaban stood.
It was a prison built on a cliff.
Other than the screams and cries of the prisoners, there was only the howling of the cold wind,
And the sound of the waves crashing against the cliff.
Sirius Black had been listening to the sound of the waves for many years. As a qualified listener,
He could even tell the different seasons apart.
What was strange about the sound of the waves at different times. However, this was all in the early years. He had spent many years in prison.
Blurred his understanding of time.
Now Black was not very sure about his judgment of the year and season.
He was not even sure if he was awake.
Did those Watchers, those unknown creatures, really not suck his sanity dry day by day?
The scratches on the stone wall,
The ravings carved on the floor,
Did these sad voices, day after day, really not consume Sirius Black?
He did not know.
He just continued to lie in the haystack,
Let this body continue to listen to the sound of the waves crashing against the cliff, while at the same time sitting on the side and watching coldly.
It seemed that even the Dementors did not know.
In this room,
Two people were imprisoned at the same time.
One day, there was an abnormality in the monotonous sound of the waves. One Sirius Black blinked, and the other Sirius Black frowned. Then they looked at each other, helped each other up, and pressed their ears to the stone wall to listen carefully.
If there was someone like Black, who even dreamed of the sound of the waves, they would definitely cry because of the weak and abnormal sound.
"Ah … poor little thing …" Sirius had already seen it. It was a young seagull, trying its best to come against the wind. The strong wind and extreme cold not only made the little thing tremble and cry, but also almost killed it.
"Poor little thing …" How did it come to this place of extreme cold and extreme evil?
Sirius Black had never seen living things in Azkaban other than criminals and Dementors. He thought that even oysters could not survive in the sea outside Azkaban.
He grabbed the cold window in excitement and fear, nervously listening to the seagull use its weak wings to break through the cold wind and crash straight into the cell.
It crashed right into Black's arms, making the vicious criminal open his mouth wide.
"Little thing …"
Later on, Blake called the bird "Little Thing". It was really small, obviously an underage seagull. It was so small that Blake wondered countless times how it had crossed the North Sea to come here. What was even more surprising was why it had passed through the cold wind and the freezing rain to come here.
The little thing never answered, no matter how Blake tried to persuade it or how he turned into a big dog to threaten it.
Little Thing only pecked Black's hand every dusk, slept in Black's arms, cried out a few times at Black's window, and then left.
"Strange little thing," Black muttered. "Azkaban is not a good hotel."
He had suspected that Little Thing came here for a purpose. Perhaps there was a deeper meaning hidden under its childish and innocent feathers.
But no, the little creature brought neither hope nor malice, and its round eyes and grey feathers were as simple as I have described them.
Black was confused. He put Little Thing in front of him and let it wander. Then, he remembered that he had not been confused for a long time.
All his confusion, about death, about trust, about feelings, were all lost in the sound of the waves in the early years.
Then, Little Thing did bring some changes.
For example, Black began to analyze the rhythm of the waves again. For example, his murmurs had spread from the floor to the wall. For example, when he was in a daze, he no longer looked at the ceiling, but at the window.
Most of the time, there was only the silver sea and the blue sky outside the window. Little Thing flew here from the border between the sky and the sea every day.
"Tell me, where are you from? Scotland, Wales, or Ireland? " Sirius seemed to be talking to himself, but also seemed to have found someone to talk to. "Tell me, where are you from? The past, the present, or the future? "
The time that Black had suppressed started to flow again, and because of the long delay, it brewed a storm that hit the small cell and the prisoner who was so thin that he was only bones. He remembered a lot in his dizziness. "No, it's not me … the traitor … James, Lily … Harry, no, and Harry …"
Black tore his tattered prison uniform and his tangled long hair. He grabbed Little Thing and wanted to say something, but there was nothing to say. He could only continue to carve on the stone wall with his claws.
The silence of the silent becomes the grass paste that heals the wound
The fugitive is the accomplice of history
The rose of time cries in the conspiracy
…
Every word was in a strange shape, and every sentence was messy. It was very different from the dirty jokes he had carved on the floor.
When Black was struggling with rhetoric, Little Thing was chirping softly at the window.
Then one day, Black suddenly realized that Little Thing's voice had disappeared. He searched every corner of the cell, but did not find a single feather of Little Thing. If the Soul Catcher did not eat snacks, then Little Thing really did not come.
Black was in a daze for a long time. He wanted to call Little Thing back and scold it, but he also wanted to beg Little Thing to come back in the most pitiful way. He also wanted Little Thing to peck away the wild weeds in his brain.
Black looked in the direction Little Thing came from. He really wanted to leave with Little Thing.
The moment this thought appeared, it was like a fruit falling to the ground. There was a crisp sound in Black's brain. In an instant, all the wild weeds were eradicated. All that was left was this tempting apple that was swollen and stuffed full of Black.
"Little Thing …" Black envied your wings.
Before Black exploded, a boat appeared in his sight.
Rubbing his eyes and shaking his head, Black opened his mouth wide. He realized that it was not his imagination. It was a real yacht that was swaggering towards him. It was getting closer and closer. It was so close that Black could see the revelers on the deck.
I'm going crazy again. Black thought.
In his wildest imagination, there would probably be a Muggle yacht crashing into Azkaban.
When the bow of the yacht broke through the window, Black heard the cries of seagulls. Before he could call out Little Thing's name, he fell to the deck with the broken stones. A group of Muggles in strange clothes quickly surrounded him, talking at once.
But he only heard one sentence clearly. "Who are you?"
"Sirius …" Black said. "I'm Sirius."
"Wow." A blonde man in sunglasses whistled. "Cool."
The tall and thin middle-aged man who asked the question also revealed a smile. "Well then, welcome to the pirate radio station, Sirius."
Sirius did not know what a pirate radio station was, but he knew that Azkaban had disappeared behind him, and Little Thing was spreading its wings and flying into the sky.
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