Because he didn't want to reveal his identity, Klein had taken special care to conceal the true form of his Patronus. He glanced at the unconscious Sirius, rubbed his temples, and finally decided to leave this tricky problem to Dumbledore.
It's got nothing to do with Keke! Keke doesn't know anything~
Seven days later.
"W-where am I?"
Sirius opened his eyes blearily. His eyelids felt as heavy as if weights were hanging from them. He threw off the blankets and struggled to sit up, first checking himself over before carefully surveying his surroundings.
This must be a hospital: the simple, clean décor, the smell of disinfectant in the air, the crossed bones and wand ornament, and the patient's gown he'd been changed into at some point all reminded Sirius that he wasn't dreaming.
He'd been rescued. He'd escaped the Dementors with his life.
But who could it have been?
Sirius clutched his head and tried desperately to remember, but all he could recall was a hazy flash of silver light just before he lost consciousness.
"Clang."
He was lost in thought when the door to the ward suddenly opened from the outside.
The nurse who came in looked delighted to see Sirius.
"Mr. Black, you're awake."
"Yeah."
At the nurse's words, Sirius opened his mouth and answered without thinking.
But a moment later, his expression turned utterly bewildered.
Mr. Black?
It had been years since anyone had addressed him so formally.
As a prisoner locked up in Azkaban, he'd been branded a "madman," a "murderer," and a "criminal"—but never a "Mr."
How could a hospital nurse possibly be so polite to him?
Surely he'd died in the Dementors' attack and was dreaming now?
That simple form of address sent Sirius spiraling into serious doubt about reality.
The nurse had no