Sebastian Sallow

"Patronus Charm?"

Harry remembered the spell; the Order of the Phoenix was preparing to learn it before their final battle with Runcorn.

only...

Because he traveled through time, he never learned this spell.

The same applies to Occlumency.

But what he didn't know was that neither Cassandra nor Veratia seemed very willing to teach him the spell.

Harry shook his head and said, "No, you know, before I returned to this era, I was only in my sixth year and had never even encountered the Patronus Charm."

"I see..."

Dumbledore nodded knowingly and said, "I still suggest you learn a few Charms to deal with Dementor. After all, these creatures are extremely evil, and generally only the Patronus Charm is effective..."

Before he could finish speaking, Dumbledore saw a flame ignite in each of Harry's hands.

On the left is the azure blue Gubraithian Fire of Immortal Purity, and on the right is the pitch-black Fiendfyre.

The expression clearly said, "My venerable Headmaster, are you referring to the Gubraithian Fire or the Fiendfyre?"

Dumbledore stared at the two flames and remained silent for a moment.

He knew, of course, that besides the Patronus Charm, Fiendfyre and Gubraithian Fire could also be used to kill Dementor.

"It can't hurt to learn a few more spells, Harry."

That was the only way he could save face.

Azkaban is a prison located on a Islet in the middle of the North Sea.

Built in the 15th century, it became a witches' prison in Britain in 1718.

The Islet that built Azkaban never appeared on any map; its interior space was magically enlarged.

But to the Ministry of Magic's surprise, this place had become a den of Dementor, creatures that could drain the happiness of their victims and have a very negative effect on anyone who got close to them.

The authorities had considered destroying the fortress, but they were afraid that doing so would provoke retaliation from the Islet or the Dementor on it, so the proposal was not accepted.

Dumbledore Apparition Harry to the outskirts of Azkaban. At that moment, dark clouds filled the sky above Azkaban, and turbulent waves surged in the sea, making the isolated island even more eerie and terrifying.

Seemingly noticing Harry's curiosity, Dumbledore smiled and explained, "The weather in Azkaban is always like this, Harry. Haven't you been here before?"

Harry looked up at Dumbledore.

"A hundred years ago, I was a law-abiding student and professor, but I've always been curious about Azkaban and why it became a prison for wizards."

"It's no secret, Harry," Dumbledore nodded. "Actually, Azkaban was originally just a fortress inhabited by an evil wizard who called himself Extis. This wizard liked to lure Muggle to his island and then torture them to death."

"That's too evil," Harry chimed in at the opportune moment.

"Yes, after Extis died, the Concealment Charm he used on the fortress and the island failed, and that's when the Ministry of Magic learned of the existence of such a Islet."

Dumbledore's eyes flickered as he looked at the fortress in front of him and continued to explain things to Harry.

"The Islet was abandoned for many years afterward. After the International Statute of Secrecy came into effect, it was found that using a small wizard prison was impractical because prisoner who wanted to escape would often make conspicuous noises, smells and lights. Therefore, the Ministry of Magic began planning to build a dedicated wizard prison on the remote Hebrides."

"But in 1718, Damocles Rowle was elected Minister for Magic. He believed that instead of spending manpower and resources to build a prison, it would be better to use Azkaban as a prison, and the Dementor on the island could serve as guards, which would reduce expenses."

"Despite opposition, the plan was implemented. Since there have been virtually no escapes or breaches of Secrecy Statute, Azkaban has served as a prison ever since."

"That's all I know about Azkaban," Dumbledore concluded.

Harry suddenly said, "I did hear a story from Mr. Septimus."

"Mr. Septimus?" Dumbledore asked curiously. "Septimus Weasley?"

"Oh no, that's Gareth's son," Harry said, shaking his head. "I'm talking about Septimus Malfoy, who is, by all accounts, Lucius Malfoy's great-grandfather."

"So that's how it is..."

Dumbledore's curiosity was piqued. "It seems you're quite familiar with the Malfoy family Malfoy family? I remember you were good friends with Cassandra Miss Malfoy, but as far as I know, the Malfoy a hundred years ago placed even more emphasis on lineage than they do now... and when you went to a hundred years ago, you were just an orphan from the Muggle world."

"It wasn't like this a hundred years ago, Professor Dumbledore," Harry said. "At least Cassandra's father, Mr. Septimus, wasn't an extreme Pureblood supremacist."

"Why is that?" Dumbledore more curious. In his memory, the Dark Minister Septimus Malfoy and his son Ignatius Malfoy were both extreme Pureblood supremacist.

Harry's face darkened slightly.

It's quite possible that the Malfoy family evolved into Pure-blood society because a Mudblood blond seduced their eldest daughter...

"Maybe it's because of Cassandra," Harry said casually. "You know, it's like how Abufosi hates an Austria for stealing his brother and then extends that hatred to all Austria."

Dumbledore suddenly felt unwell as well.

Harry is also a complete fanboy at heart—but he didn't do it on purpose; it was just an unconscious analogy.

"Let's go upstairs," Dumbledore said. "Morfin Gaunt is locked on the top floor, where there are hardened criminals, such as the most cruel and incorrigible of the Death Eater who followed Voldemort."

As we entered the castle, several Dementor surrounded us.

There are no wizard guards in Azkaban, since no one would be so absurd as to want to work with Dementor.

"I've come to visit Morfin Gaunt," said Dumbledore.

The Dementor seemed to understand and nodded, then looked at Harry.

They stood there dumbfounded for a long time. Suddenly, the leader of the Dementor roared at Dumbledore.

"He's just a Hogwarts student, not Dark Wizard," Dumbledore explained to the Dementor.

While explaining, he was still curious as to why Harry was considered Dark Wizard.

The Dementor continued their wailing, seemingly whispering amongst themselves.

A moment later, the leader of the Dementor came out and howled at Dumbledore again.

"What does he mean?" Harry asked.

"He said you can go in, but they'll be watching you." Dumbledore said, then shook his head and joked, "I don't remember the Dementor of Azkaban ever being this dedicated."

"Maybe they're just bored," Harry said with a shrug. "Or maybe they're just craving something?"

Upon hearing this, Dumbledore remembered the Philosopher's Stone that Harry had absorbed.

Could it be that the Dementor are interested in the power of the Philosopher's Stone in Harry's body?

However, only one of the Dementor, which looked stronger, followed closely behind the two of them.

"Come with me, Harry," said Dumbledore, leading Harry up the steps to the upper levels of the castle.

The interior of Azkaban was much larger than it appeared from the outside. Harry followed Dumbledore to the seventh floor, where they entered a spacious room that resembled a hall.

On both sides of the room were rows of cells that looked like they hadn't been repaired in a long time.

Dumbledore seemed to sense Harry's confusion and said to him, "Nobody wants to come here to repair the cells... You know, those who were sent to Azkaban refused to talk about what they found in there after they came here, and the least horrifying part of it is that this place has become a haven for Dementor."

"I'm a child too, Professor." Harry glanced at the cell next to him, just as the slovenly man in the cell suddenly opened his eyes and looked at him.

The original text can be found at 6#9@book/bar!

The man seemed surprised, but only for a moment, before lowering his head again.

He murmured a name in a voice only he could hear.

Harry didn't pay any attention, Dumbledore was saying in his ear again, "But you're different from ordinary people, Harry."

They continued onward, passing several prison cells, when suddenly they heard a witch's strange laughter, as if the owner of the voice was extremely mentally unstable.

"What was that little incident you mentioned earlier?" Dumbledore asked.

Harry said "Oh," and replied, "I remember Mr. Septimus once told me that in the 18th century, Minister Delhi Diggory, after inspecting Azkaban prison and witnessing its horrific state, began to seek an alternative to Azkaban —at least to remove the Dementor who guard it."

"Unfortunately, Delhi died of Dragon Pox in 1747, and no one has mentioned a replacement for Azkaban since then."

"What do you think, Professor?" he asked Dumbledore, looking up at him.

"I think Azkaban has done a good job as a prison," Dumbledore said, "But I also think that for some crimes, it is not appropriate to throw certain prisoner here and let the Dementor torture them."

"I think so too. Even the most impregnable fortress will eventually crumble on its own," Harry said pointedly. "The Dementor seem to be temporarily under the Ministry of Magic's command, but who can guarantee they won't betray us? What if they side with Voldemort? Wouldn't the Death Eater imprisoned in these jails then become accomplices in Voldemort's harm to the world?"

"What do you mean?" Dumbledore stopped in his tracks.

"I didn't say anything, Professor."

Harry said, looking at the cell in front of them.

Inside the cell, a short man was huddled in a corner; Harry looked through the only light coming in through the small skylight above and saw that the man looked much like Marvolo Gaunt, with a rough, monkey-like face.

"This is Morfin Gaunt," Dumbledore gestured to the Dementor beside him.

As the president of the International Confederation of Wizards, he did have this much privilege. The Dementor stepped forward and helped Dumbledore open the cell door.

The two entered the prison, and the old man who was hunched over on the ground suddenly opened his eyes.

"Morfin Gaunt." Dumbledore sat on the stone bench next to the cell and gestured for Harry to sit with him.

Morfin straightened her back slightly, opened her dim old eyes, and asked hesitantly and cautiously, "You are...?"

Years of torment under Azkaban had worn down his edges; he was no longer as irritable and easily angered as he once was, but rather appeared somewhat reserved and humble.

"Albus Dumbledore," Dumbledore replied.

"Dumbledore? Merlin..."

Two streams of tears flowed from Morfin's eyes. "Then this... this..."

"This is Harry Potter," Dumbledore replied.

Upon hearing this name, a spark of light suddenly ignited in Morfin's eyes.

Harry Potter?

"I've come to ask you something, Mr. Gaunt," Dumbledore said softly, "About your nephew, Tom Riddle, the son of Merope Gaunt."

"Why did you bring up that bastard?" Morfin asked angrily, then realized his mistake and quickly softened his expression. "I'm sorry, Headmaster Dumbledore, I..."

"It's alright." Dumbledore didn't want to offer any explanation for Tom. "What I want to know is, where did Tom Riddle put that portrait of Ominis Gaunt in your Gaunt family?"

Morfin recalled for a moment.

"I'm sorry, Professor Dumbledore," he said in a low voice. "I... I only remember that bastard coming to my house and talking to me about the Riddle Manor, and after that I don't remember anything—and then I was taken to Azkaban."

"Can you provide us with your memories?" Dumbledore suddenly asked, pulling a small bottle from his pocket.

Morfin nodded, Harry took a spare wand from his pocket and handed it to Morfin.

Morfin took the wand, pressed it to his temple, and drew out a silver thread, placing it inside the bottle.

"That's all I remember about that day, Professor Dumbledore —I'm accused of murdering the Riddle family, but I absolutely did not..."

Morfin said in a low voice, "I hope you can find out the truth and let me out of this damned place—or you can let me out now."

"You mean, I'll bail you out?" Dumbledore put away the bottle.

"Yes," Morfin nodded, then looked at Harry, "Mr. Potter —I remember you and my Uncle Ominis Gaunt are good friends, aren't you? Could you, could you..."

Harry didn't say anything.

"I know, I know where Mr. Salu is."

Suddenly, Morfin spoke up, "I know which cell Mr. Salu. Sebastian Salou is in!"

(Requesting monthly votes)

(4000 words for today, more to be added tomorrow)