Night had fallen, a sultry night had arrived, the air was filled with hot hay, and all that could be heard was the muffled sound of cars coming from the road outside the playground railing.

Harry didn't know how long he had been sitting on the swing before his musings were interrupted by the sound of someone else talking. He looked up, and the streetlamps in the surrounding streets cast a hazy shadow. He could see a group of figures walking through the playground, one of them humming a vulgar song loudly, and the others laughing.

Harry knew who those people were. The first one was undoubtedly his cousin Dalit Dursley, who was being accompanied by his friends as they walked home, a scene Harry had seen many times this holiday season.

Dudley was as tall as ever, but after a year of strict food control and a newly developed talent, his physique had changed dramatically. Vernon was pleased to say that Dudley had recently become the Southeast's junior heavyweight intercollegiate boxing champion. What Uncle Vernon called a "noble sport" made Dudley even more formidable. When Harry was in elementary school, he was Dudley's first drop ball in boxing, and now Harry has no fear of his cousin, he can let Dudley lie on the ground whenever he wants, but Harry is not willing to bear the price.

I watched the dark figures walk across the meadow. I don't know who they've beaten up again tonight, Harry thought as he stared at the shadows.

Since the last time Peggy was blown up, the Dursleys have converged a lot. As guardians of underage wizards, Muggles were aware of the wizarding world, so the Dursleys were not erased by the Ministry of Magic's amnestics at the time. Dudley didn't dare to provoke Harry anymore - he was fat enough now, and if he were to become Maggie, he might not even be able to get out of the house.

Watching Dudley's gang walk away, Harry glanced up at the sky and felt that it was time for him to go back, and that the Dursleys wouldn't leave him a door if they were too late.

He got off the swing and stood on the ground, straightening up. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon seem to think that when Dudley shows up, that is the time when they should go home, as long as it is after that time, it is too late. Uncle Vernon had threatened to put Harry in the shed if he came home after Dudley. Harry walked towards the playground gate with a sad face.

Magnolia Road, like Privet Road, is filled with large boxy houses with immaculately manicured grass. They were owned by big, boxy men who drove spotless cars like Uncle Vernon's. Harry preferred the little Whinging area at night, with its curtained windows bright in the darkness as bright as jewels, and during the day, whenever he passed by the heads of households, he would hear the mutters of discontent about him as a "juvenile delinquent", but not now.

Harry walked very fast, and halfway down Magnolia Road, he saw Dudley's gang again. They were saying goodbye to each other at the entrance to Magnolia Crescent Street.

Ignoring the gang, Harry walked through the shadows. Although he couldn't get used to Dudley's gang, as long as he didn't mess with him, Harry didn't want to care about them. Uncle Vernon, who he had already provoked today, was very unhappy, and if he provoked Dudley again at this time, Harry knew that he might be locked up in his room tomorrow.

Harry turned into the narrow alley where he had first seen Sirius, much darker than the two streets it connected because there were no street lights. The alley is surrounded by the garage wall on one side and a high fence on the other, so his footsteps are dull. As Harry stepped out of the alley, he heard Dudley's footsteps on the other side of the alley, and it looked like they had all cut corners.

As soon as he stepped out of the alley, Harry suddenly gave a strange snort and gasped as if he had been doused with cold water. The star-studded night sky suddenly became pitch black, without a trace of light. The stars, the moon, and the dim street lamps at both ends of the alley all disappeared at once. The rumbling of cars in the distance and the rustling of leaves in the distance were also inaudible. The mild and pleasant night suddenly turned bitterly cold.

It felt so familiar to Harry—familiar to the point of fear.

He didn't even have time to think about why the Dementors were here, why they were in Little Whinging, and Harry just ran away. Every time he encountered the Dementor Harry, he behaved badly, the first time he fainted on the train, and the second time he fainted on the broomstick...... Harry couldn't believe what would have happened if no one had been around the first two times, the first time it was Solim and Professor Lupin, the second time it was Dumbledore who came to the rescue, but what about this time? Who else could Harry rely on?

Harry knew how to deal with the Dementors, and he had practiced the spell, though he still hadn't fully mastered the Patronus Charm. Solim had told him before that a Patronus Charm at his current level would not do anything against Dementors.

Harry could only run away, he was really starting to regret not paying attention to the spell, he thought that he would not see the Dementors after they left Hogwarts, after all, the Dementors were all guards of Azkaban, and there would be no trace of them in the outside world, but now that the Dementors had come to Little Whinging, Harry was almost certain that this was for him.

It was so cold that Harry shivered, goosebumps got on his arms, and the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, and as he ran, Harry's footsteps slowed down, and he heard ...... There was a breath like a pinched throat - dull, hoarse.

Harry shivered as he stood in the cold, bitter darkness, feeling a pang of fear. He knew that the Dementors were coming, and Harry knew he had no choice but to do something.

Drawing his wand, Harry struggled to remember the happy things, the things that would make him happy. When I received a notice from Hogwarts, I rode a broomstick for the first time, and I won a Quidditch victory for the first time......

Harry was so nervous, so nervous, his thoughts and memories were intermittent, and even the thought of a specific scene could not bring him any joy or joy. That's when he really realized Solim's words: When you actually encounter the Dementors, you'll find that you're going to have a hard time freeing the Flesh Patronus—a phrase Solim said to Hermione and the others who could already free the Flesh Patronus.

And himself? Harry's mouth was a little bitter. Even when he was practicing, he could only emit some thin silver mist, and when he actually faced the Dementors, he found that he couldn't even release such a thin silver mist.

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