Remembering Me

"Pick, Piccolo." When I'm alone, Piccolo and I get along in a similar way to Tonks and me. Due to the obvious language difference, I can only assume that I am the one who is in charge of talking. "Christmas is coming to an end, and then it's just me and me here again. Guess you'll like it, no one running around while you nap or making the old hag blow the roof off. But you I can't taste Molly's handiwork anymore, so I have to keep eating frozen meat for you... Speaking of which, I don't even know if you have a tongue that can be used to taste things, why don't you open your mouth and show me?"

Piccolo was graciously noncommittal as usual, with his head thrown back a little more than usual as he swallowed the sandwich, the two holes in his beak pointing towards the roof of the attic, perhaps in Hippogriff style scoffed.

He didn't object, so I continued talking.

"You know how many years it's been since I've had such a boisterous Christmas? Well, I'm actually not sure I've ever had one. Leaving aside those disgusting blood meetings, there's never been that many people in James' house afterwards , although the four of us together can create a scene that is more lively than thousands of troops. Think about it, the restaurant will be full of redheads again tonight, just looking at it is enough to have a festive atmosphere Yes. Well, I do feel sorry for the fellows who have to miss a Christmas like this."

Buckbeak kicked the bag and the remaining residue that he didn't like in it towards me, spread his wings and shook his feathers, found a comfortable angle and stretched his head back until he buried his wings below.After this meal he would take his usual nap, and had developed the instinct to think of me as the great lullaby writer Binns.

After a while, the few short and thick hairs on the back of his neck that always stood up slowly fell down, which was a sign of falling asleep.The work that needs to be done has been done, and the complaints are almost done. I thought it would not be necessary to wake him up by stomping on the attic floor, so I continued to nest in that corner.

A few seconds later I pulled a small ball of paper out of my pocket.

In the old days, when there was nothing else to do, James used to play with a hapless golden snitch we stole, let it fly a foot or two, and catch it back with incredible speed.It's his favorite way to pass the time, thanks to its special feature of attracting - especially girls - attention.

And thanks to the way it's so eye-catching, when I'm around James, few people notice that I actually have a bad habit of restless hands and feet, and that's almost all the time.I prefer the game of flicking the tip of a quill or throwing and catching small things that are not important with one hand. Their short reciprocating trajectory seems to have a calming effect on me.

The ball of paper flew a few inches and then fell back into the palm, one after another, and so on.Its predecessor was a piece of paper with burnt edges. I found it lying on the carpet in front of the fireplace when I returned to my room after finishing the snowmaking work last night. I didn’t know that the Floo net could be used to pass paper quality items.

On the note were two short sentences in unfamiliar handwriting.The characters are small, the lower end of the y and the upper end of the h are stretched very long, a little inclined to the □□, and the strokes are smooth and clear.

"Mother wants to see me and has to go home. I'm sorry I can't spend Christmas with you. JE"

I can almost picture Jessica's apologetic face as she wrote the note, imagining what a miserable holiday I'm going to have.But the truth is she's going to miss out on a great Christmas, not me, and all I had on my mind when I read the note was Christmas dinner and that she really didn't like my name, not even abbreviated.

Think about it, Jessica is 26 years old, has seen her mother four or five times and the last time was 5 years ago, so this year is about the same time.She also did say that every time her mother came home, it was a holiday, so she couldn't say it was a surprise.

After a few rounds of brainstorming to figure it out, I crumpled up the note and threw it in my pocket, as I usually do with notes I receive.The fact that you didn't throw it into the nearest fireplace is probably due to Moody's earmarks back then. Don't throw away anything that may become evidence before the end of the matter. There will always be something that will save your life at an unexpected time.

I seriously doubt that I can be saved by this small piece of paper that has become a ball of paper when I am in the safest place except Hogwarts and Gringotts, but when I was throwing it for fun, I suddenly felt like throwing it again. It looks flat.Of course, this idea was immediately rejected by reason, and there was no need to re-read the content that was clear at a glance. It was like the work of a hypocritical little boy who was reluctant to wash his hands after meeting his sweetheart.

After Buckbeak woke up, I hid in the attic for a while, and cleaned the place, until Harry came up and asked me to go to dinner, then put away the ball of paper and went downstairs.

Molly's cooking skills are as impeccable as ever, and the smell in the kitchen overcomes the musty smell that has accumulated for many years and fills the whole house.As soon as I came downstairs, Harry was taking a deep breath of satisfaction beside me, so I took a deep breath too.

Turkey, pudding and treacle pie, Christmas dinner, here I come.

The exhaled air covered the surface of the mirror with a layer of mist. I brought the mirror closer, but the eyes behind the mist were undoubtedly my own.

His lifeless and old pupils looked at me like ashes.

I dropped the mirror, and it took a lot of effort not to smash it against the opposite wall.

What else could one hope for?I could see it in Harry's face from the time I handed the other double-sided mirror, even if the snot-nosed skinned him while teaching Occlumency, he wouldn't say a word to me, lest he The impulsive godfather killed himself.

I didn't expect him to come to me and cry like a wronged little girl, but I thought he would at least make some effort to contact me, since I haven't since the last time I was almost caught from the fireplace. Found him through Floo.

When Torremus went to the former residence to fetch the double-sided mirror during Christmas, I thought I had thought of a communication channel that would never be watched.It’s a bit ironic to think of the Zixi at that time now. During this period of time, I would put it on the bathroom sink when I took a shower, but my godson probably didn’t even have the interest to open the paper bag.

Yeah, no one would be happy to deal with me on a regular basis.Dementors may have messed with my brain, but that doesn't mean I've really gotten stupid.After Christmas I was like a family tree tapestry and an elf head in the old house, a complete sleaze, and everyone avoided me for the first few days before school started.

Even Remus was beginning to tire of my irascibility and drinking, and his patience, born of old friendships and good-naturedness, had worn off.

"You don't have to treat yourself that way," he said.

"Well, man, Iseemtobestuck." That's what I said to him, shaking the bottle. (Iseemtobestuck means to be happy in life, and at the same time, stuck means "stuck, at a loss")

So my oldest surviving friend shook his head and headed out.The conversation took place before Remus went to perform the second phase of Dumbledore's "Infiltrating the Kind" mission, and he hadn't heard from him for nearly two months so far.

We all know what we're doing, and if that's the last thing Remus hears from me I'll regret it till I die, but usually for people being aware of that doesn't mean the shit won't come out of their mouths .

Probably due to being forced to transform into a wolf every month since the age of 5, if James is the core and most optimistic of us, Remus is the strongest of us.Back then he was always the one who cleaned up our mess, and "End Day" -- as I kept calling that day in my head -- was no exception.Remus presided over the funerals of James and Lily, and survived those down and alone days, I don't know how he did it.

He is the kind of person who can take care of himself no matter how he is treated by life. I know exactly what he hopes and wants to convey-let go of the past and look forward.But he couldn't understand how I felt—stuck in the past, and would tear everything apart if I didn't try to anesthetize myself.

And to be honest, Remus wasn't the type to make people believe in the future - that was always James' job.It's not hard to see that this man, who is always responsible for reassuring others that everything will be fine, himself doubts the existence of the future.

The feeling of thirst rose in my throat, and I got up and walked towards the basement.After taking two steps, I cursed, still picked up the mirror on the floor, and put it in my pocket.

Then I bumped into Kreacher, who came out of the kitchen humming a little song, and he bowed happily to me without uttering a word of profanity.I still didn't pay much attention to my habitual yelling, but was disturbed for a moment by the malevolent smug look in his eyes, which only lasted until I took the next step.

In the past few months, the activities of the members in the headquarters have been less than before Christmas, probably because they are less injured after being proficient in the work. In short, this directly caused my connection with the world outside the old house to drop to the lowest level in history. point.I'm bored, and boredom is crazy and pessimistic as fuck, so I really don't mind what Kreacher's up to - if it has a brain to do so.

Anyway, everything related to the Order of the Phoenix has been banned by me repeatedly. Before getting the clothes, the most it can do is to design an old Bloom pants with my dear mother and strangle me. It's just a death trap, and that's what I wish for.