The moon, the stars, and the street lamps suddenly returned to real life, a warm breeze blew through the alleys, the trees in the nearby garden rustled, and the rumble of cars on the street of the crescent moon Magnolia filled the air again.

Harry stood silently, all his senses shaking from his sudden return to the real world. After a while, he realized that his shirt was completely glued to his body - he was already soaked with sweat.

He couldn't believe what had just happened, the Dementors were here, in Xiaowei Jinlu!

I can't believe it, but, even if I don't believe my eyes, his wand won't fool him, oh, and of course, this pig......

Dudley lay curled on the ground, whimpering and shaking. Harry was bending down to see if he could stand up on his own, when Harry suddenly heard loud, hurried footsteps behind him.

Harry subconsciously raised his wand again, and he crossed Dudley's heels to face the incoming man.

It was Mrs. Figg, their old eccentric neighbor.

Mrs. Figg panted into sight, her gray hair falling out of her hairnet, the clanging of a rope shopping bag on her wrist, her feet only halfway through her tartan carpet slippers, Harry quickly put his wand away, but ......

"Don't put it away!!!!

"What did you say?" Harry was at a loss.

"He's gone," said Mrs. Feig, with both hands, "he left to see a man who had fallen from his broom's back into a set of crucibles! I told him I'd skin him alive if he left, and now look what happened! Dementors! Luckily this time, I dragged Mr. Tibis into the incident! But we still didn't have time to look around! Now, Harry, we're going to take you home! Oh, this trouble shouldn't have happened! I'm going to kill him!"

"But—" To Harry, the fact that the crazy cat-loving old lady neighbor who found him knew what a Dementor was was almost as shocking Harry was about as big as meeting two Dementors in the alley.

"Y-you-you're a witch?" Harry could barely believe what was coming out of his mouth.

"As Mundungus knows perfectly, I'm a Squib (the wizarding world's name for those who have traditional wizarding ancestry but no magic), so how can you imagine that I have what it takes to help you fight off the Dementors?

"Mondongues has been following me?" said Harry, incredulous.

"Aha-it's him! He's making such a big commotion in front of my house!"

"Yes! Yes! Yes, but luckily, just in case, I kept Mr. Tibis under a car, and Mr. Tibis did come and warn me, but you were gone when I went to your house—and now—oh! What will Dumbledore say?"

"You!" she yelled at Dudley, who was still lying on his back on the alley floor, "Get your fat ass off the ground, hurry!"

"Do you know Dumbledore?" Harry stared at Mrs. Figg, the information was not too shocking.

"Of course I know Dumbledore, and who doesn't?, but come on now - if they come back, there's nothing I can do, I've never been able to transform into a teabag, and frankly, I can't even get the wand's approval......"

It's a sad subject, just like Mr. Filch, as a squib, they have the ability to confront those magical creatures like wizards, but they can't store half a cent of magic in their bodies, and the innate magic dissolves in flesh and blood, and that subtle feeling can't even light up even the simplest wand......

"Sorry......" Harry realized how much the topic could hurt a wizard, like Mr. Filch, didn't he see that he was already insane.

"It's okay, kid, I'm used to it, and being able to see a lot of different things, and while that's not kind to me, I know better than the average person, no wizard would be willing to stay with a Muggle forever, but I don't think there's anything wrong with that, at least, no one will target a Squib, and the constant accumulation of magic allows me to experience it in a very short time, before they dissipate......"

"Let's get out of here, though. Mrs. Feige said.

She stopped, grappling with her thin hand at one of Dudley's fat arms.

"Get up, you useless fool, get up!"

Dudley, however, was neither able nor willing to stand up, and he lay on the ground, trembling, pale, and lips closed.

"Oh, I'm coming!" Harry quickly grabbed Dudley's arm and held it up.

Although it is said that because of his schooling, Harry is not malnourished, at most he is thin, but the title of Dudley's fat pig is not for nothing, it is something that has been determined for a long time, together with Van Lin......

After a great deal of effort, he tried to get Dudley to lift his feet as well, but Dudley still looked unconscious. His little eyes rolled in their sockets, sweat covered his face, and his body swayed dangerously as Harry told him to walk on his own.

"Hurry up!" exclaimed Mrs. Figg, hysterically. Harry put one of Dudley's fat arms on his shoulders and dragged him down the street, Harry's shoulders drooping slightly under Dudley's weight.

Mrs. Feige staggered in front of them, staring nervously at the corner of the street.

"Pull out your wand!" she said to Harry as they entered Wisteria Road, "Don't worry about secrecy now. (The Secrecy Decree is a law enacted by the Ministry of Magic prohibiting the use of magic in Muggle areas), and we will be punished harshly anyway, maybe we will be hanged by a dragon like a bastard. Let's talk about the ordinance that makes some sense about the restriction of witchcraft for minors: that's exactly what Dumbledore fears—where is the end of the street? Oh, that's Mr. Prentis. Don't put your wand down, kid, don't let me keep telling you that I can't use magic, okay?"

Holding the wand steadily while dragging Dudley hard is not an easy task. Harry impatiently bumped his cousin Dudley in the ribs, but Dudley looked like he had lost all desire to act on his own.

He collapsed all over Harry's shoulder, his huge foot dragging on the ground.

"Why didn't you tell me earlier that you were a Squib, Mrs. Feige?" Harry asked breathlessly, as he struggled to walk, "when I was in your house - why didn't you say anything?"

"Dumbledore's orders. I have to take custody of you but can't tell you anything, you're too young. I'm sorry for giving you such a miserable time, Harry, but if the Dursleys think you like me here, they'll never let you come again. You know, it's not easy, but, oh! look at what I said. Again, she sweated and cried out sadly, "When Dumbledore heard this—how could Mondungus leave, and he was assumed to be on a mission until midnight—where was he? How should I tell Dumbledore what had happened? ”

"I have an owl that you can borrow. Harry groaned, amazed at how much weight Dudley's back could bear.

"Harry, you don't understand! Dumbledore needs to act as soon as possible, the Ministry of Magic has their own channels for detecting minors to use magic, they know it now, you have to take my word for it. ”

"But I got rid of the Dementors, and I had to use magic - they should be more worried about what the Dementors were doing on Wisteria Road, right? Hermione said that Dementors can't leave Azkaban......"

"Oh dear, I hope that's how it is, but I'm afraid—Mundungus Fletcher, I'm going to kill you!"

When a man in a tattered coat suddenly appeared in front of them, there was a loud cracking sound, and the air was filled with a pungent smell of liquor mixed with the smell of rotting tobacco.

The man's short legs, long, disheveled pale yellow hair, and bloodshot, drooping eyes made him look like a bantam hound, with a somber appearance. He was also clutching a small silver bag, which Harry immediately recognized as an invisibility cloak.

"How about the morning? He looked at Mrs. Figg, Harry, and Dudley for the first time, and then said. "What happened while I was engaged in clandestine activities?"

"To hell with your secret activities!" called out Mrs. Figg, "the Dementors have appeared, you useless, deserving thief!"

"Dementors?" Mundungus repeated, stunned, "do you mean Dementors?"

"Yes, right here, you're a worthless crappy spy, right here!" screamed Mrs. Figg. "The Dementors attacked this kid under your watch!"

"Oops," Mundungus replied weakly, from Mrs. Figg to Harry, and then back, "Oops, I-"

"Are you going to sell those stolen crucibles again! Didn't I tell you not to?

"I also know that I-" Mundungus looked uncomfortable, "it's, it's really a good business opportunity, look-"

Mrs. Feige lifted the bag wrapped around her arm and threw it in Mondongues's face, the string of which wrapped around Mondongues' neck, and judging by the clanging of the bag, the bag should have been full of cat food.

"Ouch - take it away - get it away, you crazy old bat!

"Yes—they—have done that!" said Mrs. Figg, screaming as she smashed the colourful cat food into every part of Montungus that she could reach, "and—better you—you could go and tell Dumbledore—why you weren't there to help!"

"Keep your senses!" Mundungus said, his hands on his head, backing back, "I'm on my way! I'm on my way!" and then he vanished with another loud cracking sound.

"I want Dumbledore to kill him!" said Mrs. Figg furiously, "Now, come here, Harry, what are you waiting for?"

Harry decided not to waste any more energy he had left, pointing out that he could barely move under Dudley's weight. He lifted the half-unconscious Dudley and leaned him forward.

"I'll send you to the door," said Mrs. Feige as they turned into the privet road, "but if there are more Dementors around, oh! Oh my God, it's a great calamity, and you must repel them by your own strength, and Dumbledore said that we should do whatever it takes to save you from using magic, well! I don't think this is the time to worry about the little things, but the cats are playing pranks right now." ”

"So," said Harry, panting, "has Dumbledore been following me?"

"Of course... Yes," said Mrs. Figg, in a tone of marked impatience, "do you think he will let you wander around after the events of June?, well, boy, they tell me it is wise and right to let you stay here," said Mrs. Figg as they reached number four, "and I hope someone will be in contact with you soon, and it is only half the time......

"What are you going to do now?" asked Harry quickly.

"I'll go straight home," replied Mrs. Fig, who was trembling as she stared at the dark street around me, "I need to wait for more, but until then I'll just stay at home." Good night!"

"Wait, don't go now!" I want to know—" But Mrs. Figg had trotted away, her slippers clattering and her bunch tinkling.

"Wait!" Harry cried out behind her. He had a million questions to ask anyone who came into contact with Professor Dumbledore: but within seconds, Mrs. Figg's figure was engulfed in darkness.

A grimacing Harry repositioned Dudley on his shoulders so that they could move slowly, painfully onto the garden path at 4 Privet Road. The lights in the living room are still on.

Harry withdrew his wand into the belt of his jeans, rang the doorbell and watched as Aunt Penny's silhouette grew larger and larger, twisting oddly over the frosted glass of the door.

"Dudley, it's time, I'm getting very, very—Dudley, what's going on!"

Harry looked at Dudley next to him, and just in time to sprang out from under Dudley's arm.

Dudley shook in place, his face blue and white, and then he opened his mouth and vomited everywhere in the doorway.

"Dudley!Dudley!what's going on?Vernon!Vernon!" Harry's uncle came out of the bedroom in high spirits, his drooping mustache blown left and right, as if it always seemed to be the case when he was agitated.

He hurried forward to help Aunt Petunia get Dudley in with his weak legs, while avoiding stepping on the disgusting pile of vomit on the ground.

"He's sick, Vernon!"

"How do you feel, son, what happened, did Mrs. Polx give you some kind of foreign tea?"

"Why are you covered in dirt, my dear? Have you ever fallen to the ground?"

"Wait—your face is all right, is it, son?" exclaimed Aunt Petunia with a shriek.

"Call the police, Vernon, call the police, Dudley, dear, talk to your mother, what did they do to you?"

Harry had not been noticed all the time in the midst of all this chaos, and it suited him perfectly.

He wanted to sneak in before Uncle Vernon slammed the door shut, and when Dudley moved his noise show from the living room to the kitchen, Harry cautiously moved and quietly went upstairs.

"Who's doing that, son? We'll catch him, don't worry. ”

"Quiet! What is he going to say, Vernon! What's going on, Dudley? Tell Mom!"

When Dudley regained his voice, Harry was at the bottom of the stairs.

"It's him. ”