The Warm Potter Family

Godric's Hollow's evening, Potter family.

The setting sun dyed the valley into gold, and an owl flew over from the west, holding a roll of newspaper in its talons, <The Daily Prophet> and added another issue, carrying the fresh smell of the ink that was not yet dry.

The owl flew into the living room from the window, threw the newspaper on the coffee table, flapped its wings, and flew away.

Charlus·Potter leaned over from the sofa to pick it up. Euphemia was walking from the direction of Kitchen carrying a plate of fruit.

Sirius is leaning on another sofa, with two long legs on the coffee table, and in his hand is a Golden Snitch trained by Quidditch.

James is sitting on the carpet, with a Quidditch tactical board spread out in front of him, and he is drawing on it with a pen.

Lazy summer evening, fruit, Quidditch, sunset.

Charles finished reading the front page, sat on the sofa and fell into silence, then slowly closed the newspaper, placed it on the coffee table, took off his glasses, wiped the lenses, and put them back on.

Sirius's senses have always been sensitive, and the first thing he noticed was that Charlus's silence was different from usual.

He raised his head and saw Charlus's expression. He didn't catch the Golden Snitch in his hand and hit it on the floor and rolled away.

"What's wrong?"

Charlus shook his head and did not answer.

Sirius jumped up from the sofa, walked to the coffee table in two steps, and picked up the newspaper.

He read very quickly, his gray eyes scanning between the headlines on the front page and the main text.

The front page is accompanied by a photo of Magic, Regulus standing on the white Dali Stone Platform steps of Gringotts, wearing a dark black robe, the wand pointed to the sky, and the golden light beam shoots straight towards Yun Xiao from the tip of the wand.

The photo was taken from above. He maintained the posture of raising the wand, and his robe was blown back by the wind blown by Magic Power. Behind him was the entire sky covered with golden light patterns, and the gold-plated Ancient Latin slowly flowed in the photo.

"He--he launched Family Vengeance Contract? genocide? Rowle family?"

James raised his head blankly, completely unaware of what Sirius was talking about.

"Someone stabbed him in the back!" Sirius's voice was so angry that he was shaking. "Twice! In Hogwarts, that Rowle--

Dolphin·Rowle, I have seen him, he looks like a malnourished weasel - he actually -"

He slapped the newspaper on the table and his voice became louder and louder. "He never told me! Not a word!"

He thought that Regulus was like a fish in water in Slytherin, at least no one dared to mess with him. But in the end, someone was targeting him behind his back, and he didn't even know about it.

Anger rushed from my navel to my forehead, directed at Rowle family, Dolphin, and Regulus.

He began to walk back and forth in the living room, from the fireplace to the window, from the window to the door, and back from the door. The route was completely irregular. He almost bumped into the coffee table twice. After avoiding it, he changed directions and continued walking.

"Why didn't he tell me?" Sirius screwed up his whole face and shouted until his voice broke, "Fuck--I have to go back--"

He was about to rush to the door with his head down, when Charlus stood up from the sofa, walked to him, and put his hand on his shoulder.

Charlus's eyes were gentle and his tone was gentle. "Sirius."

Sirius turned his head, with that ferocious anger still on his face, and his eyes were red.

"You go over now. The people on the opposite side will know how to fight as soon as they see you on the battlefield," Charlus said patiently, "You are Black family's eldest son. If I hold you, Black family will have to choose between the battlefield and you. What do you think Regulus will choose?"

Sirius opened his mouth, but no sound came out.

"He won't ignore you, so the other side will definitely use you to force him," Charlus looked into his eyes. "If you go, he won't be able to concentrate on fighting this battle."

Sirius stared at Charlus with his teeth sticking out.

He heard it, and the meaning of Charlus was very clear. He would only add chaos to Regulus, add chaos to Black family, and there was no place for him on the frontal battlefield.

He wanted to yell back, he wanted to explode like every time before, he wanted to fucking kill me and throw these words on Charlus's face as a human being.

Why? He is his elder brother, and the Dark Lord who is going to the battlefield is his younger brother. Why can't he go?

But as soon as the dissatisfaction hit his throat, most of it dissipated because he couldn't even deceive himself.

All the things he thinks he is proud of, Transfiguration, spells, and duels, are nothing if he is placed among the best among his peers and in front of a group of real adults Dark Wizard.

He couldn't even cast a complete spell in front of Regulus. He went to Regulus to take care of him. Black family had to choose between him and him on the battlefield.

These things weighed heavily on his heart, but he was still angry, angry that Regulus didn't say anything to him, angry that Charlus stopped him, angry that he was standing here and couldn't even get out, but he was so angry that the top was empty, and the bottom was empty.

He broke free of Charlus's hand on his shoulders, walked back and forth in the living room, kicked the leg of the coffee table, and his chest heaved violently, like a Big Dog being pulled by a traction rope. His whole body was still tense with the energy to rush forward, but he would no longer really rush out.

"Then I don't do anything?" The ferocity on Sirius's face slowly fell, and it changed to a more uncomfortable expression, and he squeezed out a low growl from his throat, "My brother is going to fight in a war, and I can only sit on the sofa and eat fruit?"

Charlus's tone was still gentle. "Before the war begins, Rowle family may come to you, and catching you is a bargaining chip against Regulus.

Potter family is a third party and cannot block any spell for you. All I can do is hide you."

He walked back to Sirius: "So the best thing you can do is stay here."

Sirius stood for a long time, his breathing slowly calmed down, and the expression on his face changed from uncomfortable to depressed, and from depressed to depressed.

But he finally stopped.

He started to think about another question, starting from what I want to do, to what I can do, to what I can do to really help him.

There is no answer to this question.

Sirius, who was almost fifteen years old, was standing in the living room of Potter family. He stopped when he wanted to rush out. This was probably the hardest thing he had ever done so far.

James didn't interrupt from beginning to end. He drew half of the Quidditch route on the tactical board, his pen stopped in the middle of a dotted line, his brows were furrowed tightly, and his mouth was tightly closed.

There was only one thought running through his mind, Regulus·Black was going to fight a real war, a war where people would die, and he was still planning Quidditch training during the summer vacation, and was still thinking about how to teach Snape a lesson when school started.

He always thought he was quite powerful.

Seeker of Gryffindor Quidditch can hang Snape on a tree, dares to talk back to the professor, dares to put Dungbomb in Corridor, of those things he has done, which one is not impressive?

Then today the newspaper was delivered, and the article Slytherin's little viper was about to start a genocidal war.

He didn't express these thoughts. If he did, he would be too serious and unlike him.

Charlus came over and sat down directly on the carpet next to James. Both father and son were quiet for a while.

His voice was very soft. "Some people walk fast not to embarrass those who walk slowly."

After saying that, without waiting for his son's reaction, Charlus stood up and walked towards the door.

He pushed open the front door and stood on the stone steps.

Godric's Hollow Dusk has filled the sky, the grass in the yard is glowing with a bluish dark green, and the old Broomstick under the porch is gently spinning in the wind.

Charlus pulled out the wand and put the tip of the wand against the door frame. Without reciting a spell, Magic Power seeped out from the tip of the wand, went down along the door frame into the foundation, and then climbed up the wall.

The whole house was gently wrapped by Magic Power, and became no longer noticed. The light bypassed it, the wind bypassed it, and even the dirt road at the door was turned around by some force and went away into the distance.

He took back his wand, and the courtyard became extremely quiet.

Potter family sank from Magical Level. Any wizard passing nearby would only see an ordinary hillside, a few old trees, and a non-existent road.

This house, and the people in it, will no longer appear in anyone's sight from tonight.

Potter family is good at this and has been for generations.

The cloak passed down from the God of Death has been kept in Potter family's cabinet for centuries, which taught the family a truth: real security is when people cannot see you, not when you are carried.

Charlus understood this very early. His father understood it, and his father's father also understood it. I hope James will also understand in the future that hiding is never a shameful thing.

Death can be concealed, and so can wizards.

Euphemia looked at the people in the living room from Kitchen's door. Her husband was outside the door, her son was sitting on the ground holding a pen in a daze, and Sirius was standing by the window watching the sunset with his fists clenched.

She didn't say anything, turned around and went back to Kitchen. The sound of clinking pots and pans came from inside, very light and very ordinary.

James got up from the carpet, walked over to Sirius, and patted him on the shoulder. The two stood side by side in front of the window, neither of them spoke, and they watched the sunset together with fists clenched.

Sirius A picture suddenly appeared in his mind.

Next to Black Lake, he told Regulus that he would not go back to Grimmauld Place during the summer vacation. He would go to Potter family, and Regulus told him that it was fine.

He thought it was perfunctory at the time.

Now he is standing in front of the window of Potter family. The sunset outside the window is beautiful, and the smell of food in Kitchen is coming over.

His brother was preparing for a war somewhere hundreds of miles away.

It turns out that this is what it means.

Put you in a safe place and then I'll do what I have to do.

Order of the Phoenix's safe house is a small living room with a fire burning in the fireplace and several maps and pieces of information spread out on the table.

Moody was leaning against the window, with his wand resting on the windowsill, staring out the window. He and Prewett brothers had just finished discussing the route for the next round of patrol.

Dumbledore is sitting in the corner, Half-moon Spectacles is resting on the bridge of his nose, reading a document.

A Silver Light flashed across the table, and there was a newspaper on the table, attracting everyone's attention.

Gideon reached out and picked it up, unfolded it, and glanced at the front page.

"Look at this -" he threw the newspaper out and raised his chin at Fabian: "Voldemort's own people are fighting, the Black family kid sent a Family Vengeance Contract, an antique from hundreds of years ago, declaratio sanguinis, Rowle family is going to be in bad luck."

Fabian took the newspaper, glanced at it, and grinned. "You deserve it, they are all the same thing, kill yourself to save us from doing it."

Moody came to Fabian, looked down, and sneered, with an undisguised meanness. "Pure-bloods, we have been fighting in the nest for hundreds of years, and we have been fighting. Those surnames, after the fight, whether you should kill Muggle or Muggle, whether you should bully Half-bloods or Half-bloods, it doesn't matter who wins."

Gideon turned to look at Dumbledore in the corner. "Professor, what do you think about this?"

Dumbledore looked up from the document, and the blue eyes behind the half-moon lenses blinked.

"Uh--" His voice was unusually vague. He looked at Prewett brothers, then at Moody, with a subtle expression. "The things about young people, sometimes... are more... than they seem."

No more, not a complete sentence was uttered.

Moody stared at Dumbledore for a moment and squinted.

His intuition told him that Dumbledore's stumbling look was not right.

Fabian threw the newspaper aside, thought for a moment, and a trace of expectation flashed in his eyes. "Professor, where did Geralt go?"

Dumbledore blinked again.