Azkaban, this is a place of despair, soaked by the curse of life when it was tortured to death, filling it with terrible black magic.

This was originally a small island in the North Sea that no one knew. It had never appeared in any map or in anyone's field of vision.

Because a black wizard who came from nowhere lived in seclusion here and built the original castle here. The wizard, who called himself Aixdis, conducted a lifelong experiment on this unknown island. He was particularly keen to confuse sailors on ships drifting on the sea to the island, and then torture their souls using black magic.

In the end, he did not know whether he had made any shocking black magic. What people know was that he had died long before they discovered the black wizard. Just as no one knew about his appearance, his departure was silent.

But with his death, the small island hidden by his use of the mystery spell was finally revealed to the world, and people were able to discover what had happened on the island. From then on, the island was called Azkaban.

It is said that the authorities of the Ministry of Magic were frightened. The island was covered with dense rotten corpses, with black mottled blood everywhere, and the dark corners were filled with ghosts' wailings.

This dark wizard killed countless Muggle sailors throughout his life. These pains and tortures have spawned a curse as deep as the abyss, making this place a ghost.

A kind of monster that is said to be born only in the world of the dead appears here. They are dark monsters and dementors wearing tattered black cloaks, scabbed palms, invisible and tangible bodies. They have no facial organs, only a big mouth like an empty mouth. Those who have been kissed by this mouth will be taken away from all positive emotions such as happiness, happiness, generosity, etc.

At that time, a large number of people in the wizarding world believed that a sweeping operation should be launched immediately to purify the island full of hatred with the curse, souls and dementors on the island.

Doing this is tantamount to launching a war, because the dementors have already developed a huge number in these years, and relying on this cursed island, their combat ability is not inferior to that of any wizard. Only those wizards who practice the patron curse can dispel these monsters instead of killing them.

Even if this island can be destroyed, the dementors who have been wandering around the world will launch indiscriminate attacks on Muggles and the Wizard World. At that time, the Wizard World will have to spend a higher cost to repair these losses. In the end, the storm ended peacefully with the Ministry of Magic and Dementors reaching a cooperation agreement.

The content of the agreement is roughly as follows: Any dementor, without the personal authorization of the British Minister of Magic, shall not leave Azkaban, if left privately, any wizard has the right to kill the dementor on the spot; in exchange, the Ministry of Magic will ensure the survival of the dementor clan and provide the dementors with the necessary souls that can maintain their lives.

In this way, Azkaban became the most terrifying wizard prison in the British Ministry of Magic. Because of the existence of dementors, almost no one could escape from it. Three centuries passed like this, and there was no case of escape in official records.

Sirius Black is also a prisoner in this prison. Facing this iron-like cage, he thought his life would be explained here. Perhaps one day in the future, a dementor will come to deliver food to him, and then find his already silent body, and then calmly drag his ankles and then bury him into the cemetery outside the castle.

He thought he would accept all this calmly, not only the punishment imposed on him by the Ministry of Magic, but also the punishment imposed on himself.

Because of a mistake, he killed his best friend, his wife, his godson, and the boy named Harry Potter, who would hate him as an incompetent person.

"If you calculate the time carefully, Harry should be twelve years old this year, right?" Sirius carefully recalled Lily's childbirth period and tried hard to calculate, "Which college will he be assigned to? Gryffindor? It should be Gryffindor? After all, Lily and James are so brave people...

Ravenclaw? That won't work. Harry can't be a nerd. It's hard to find a wife.

Hufflepuff? Maybe it's not bad. They are engaged in asking for more delicious food from the kitchen, so that my Harry will become a fat guy? No, no, I can't imagine James becoming a fat guy...

What about Slytherin? Can it work? James is a pure-blooded wizard, Lily is a Muggle wizard, and their child Harry is assigned to Slytherin? Don't be another Snape, right? That's too pervert..."

At this time, a whimpering sound came from outside the cage. It was not the sound of the wind, but the sound of the jailer's actions. Sirius Black knew that his meal was coming, and at the same time, he was also a different kind of meal on the plate.

A black monster came over with a dish full of oil, threw the meal to Black, then grabbed Black's hair and put his head on Black's face.

"It's coming again..." Black closed his eyes in despair.

An invisible attraction came out of the monster's hollow mouth. Those beautiful pictures that had just been constructed in Black's mind, those precious memories of the past disappeared together with Black's happy associations based on memories, leaving Blake's only hollow darkness.

"Ah..." When Black woke up from the empty darkness, his mind was in chaos. He only knew that he had been kissed by the dementor, and he could not remember anything else.

"I know I must have forgotten something, but I can't recall it..." Two lines of tears flowed down Black's face.

No one cares about Black who is crying, because everyone here is in the same state and there is no unnecessary sympathy to squander.

Even including Black himself, he quickly wiped away his tears and began to eat his own meals voraciously, "It's another day to eat chicken and mashed potatoes..."

The chicken was put in very little, almost barely able to maintain his health, and the same was true for mashed potatoes, even the salt was put in so little that they could not taste the food.

But Black still had a good meal because he had to finish the meal quickly and then go to work. There was no forced labor in Azkabane, and the dementors did not need ordinary people to work to obtain profits. Sirius Black's job was found for himself. It took him a long time to keep the job in mind and repeat it every day.

"I am Sirius Black. Today is my first time in Azkaban... How many days have you been? Forget it and carve it first..." As he said that, Black slowly carved a mark with his nails on the wall of his cell.

There are nearly 4,000 such marks on the entire wall. They are the number of times he recorded that the dementors were sucked once a day, and it has been more than ten years since then.

It’s a pity that since he was sucked by the dementor, his thinking ability began to decline sharply, and soon some basic operations became difficult, but he still insisted.

"One, two, three..." Blake murmured from his cell.

The prisoner living next door rolled his eyes again habitually: "It's started again..."

The wailing sound of the newly-entered prisoner came from a distance: "Don't come over, I'm very powerful, I'm a professor at Hogwarts, the fire is raging, ah..."

It seems that the power of the spell cast without a staff is still very embarrassing. It cannot hurt the dementor at all, but it is easily strangled by the dementor.

After a while, only the prisoner was left in the cell with half-dead moans, "I'm in pain... I'm told me to die... Where am I? It's so cold..."

A prisoner snorted disdainfully, "What is this pain? I won't say that in a while..."

Black ignored everything that happened outside the fence and was still concentrating on counting the marks, "Nine hundred and ninety-eight, ninety-nine... Next is? I think about it... I think about it, I can't remember it! What is it? One thousand? One thousand?"

The man next door reminded boredly: "It's a thousand indeed."

"Ah, it's one thousand! One thousand one thousand one thousand two..."

This number keeps getting bigger until it is near the end.

"Three thousand seven hundred and forty...Three thousand seven hundred and forty days?" Black thought carefully for a while and affirmed again: "It's three thousand seven hundred and forty days! How many days does a year come? By the way, three hundred and sixty-five days, three thousand seven hundred and forty divided by three hundred and sixty-five..."

Black slapped his head in pain, but he forgot how to calculate division. He could only use the dividend to subtract the number from the divisor over and over again, and then counted it a few times. Finally, he came to the final conclusion, "It's a little more than ten years, it's a little more than ten years! My Harry is eleven years old, no, it seems to be twelve years old... it's twelve years old."

He wanted to jump up excitedly, but was afraid that his joy would attract the dementor to suck it, so he had to remain silent and slowly miss the little boy who didn't know his appearance.

Then through the anchor of Harry, he remembered his long-dead mother, his father, his younger brother who had participated in the Death Eater event and finally died in the summer, and the happy days when the four of them wandered around Hogwarts in a group.

"Ah..." Black pressed his face against the dirty reed mattress beneath him, carefully hiding his smile. Fortunately, he could still remember it, and fortunately he could still remember it!

"Moon face, pointed fork..." Black sighed tremblingly, and then he vomited hatefully the man who had hurt him for the rest of his life, the man who had brought all this infatuation to him.

"Word Tail!"
Chapter completed!