Death Eaters Raid Downing Street

There's another interesting anecdote about Scrabble Prison.

Mr. Major's comparison of Scrabble Prison to Azkaban prison is indeed not incongruous.

Because both of these prisons had a man named Black who successfully escaped.

Sirius escaped from Azkaban, while George Black escaped from Scrabble Prison.

Speaking of this Mr. Black, he became the famous agent codenamed "Diamond" in later generations.

On May 3, 1961, the Central Criminal Court of London sentenced George Black to 42 years in prison for treason, the harshest sentence ever handed down in Britain since the abolition of the death penalty.

Black was initially held at Scrabble Prison in North London and placed under "Special Supervision," a special measure taken for prisoners who might escape. However, four months later, Sir Roger Hollis, the Director General of the Secret Intelligence Service, informed the prison authorities that the investigation into Black had concluded and requested that Black be released from "Special Supervision."

So the warden assigned Black to a regular single cell in the fourth row of cells and made him the prison's Arabic Correspondence Instructor.

From then on, Black made several good friends in prison and together they planned an escape.

In 1966, he finally found his opportunity.

On Saturday, October 22, during a movie screening, someone shoved an iron rod into Black's cell.

Black open the iron window with an iron bar and climbed out from the roof. It was pitch black, and rain was pouring down.

He sprinted to the wall 15 feet away, grabbed the nylon rope ladder that Burke had already placed on the wall, and quickly scaled it to escape.

Unfortunately, he broke his arm when he jumped from the wall. Black hid in a residence north of London for two months, evading the peak of the police manhunt.

Later, Rand Michel hid Black under the bed of a convertible car, crossed the Dover Ferry Terminal, and reached Belgium.

They then traveled through West Germany to East Germany, and finally took a plane to Moscow.

But Mr. Black's precise breach of Britain's defenses did not end there. After escaping from prison, he wrote an autobiography satirizing Britain, but the Britain government refused to pay royalties, so Mr. Black took Britain to court.

The most difficult part was that he won the lawsuit, and Britain had to pay his royalties.

It's surprising that Mr. Major could bring up this prison. It has to be said that this matter doesn't really concern him much, since it didn't happen during his time as Prime Minister, so it's not a disgrace to him.

A sudden thought flashed through his mind, and he remembered some scenes that seemed familiar.

He then asked urgently, "Could it be—that someone has escaped from Azkaban?"

"Yes, Mr. Major," Sirius said, rubbing his forehead. "Not just one. According to statistics, a total of thirteen vicious Dark Wizard escaped from Azkaban. They are now missing, and there's reason to suspect they've found their masters."

That is, Voldemort—

Mr. Major is confused.

"Voldemort?" Mr. Major thought for a moment, then asked, "Who is Voldemort?"

"Don't tell me you don't know Voldemort." Sirius's expression was somewhat exaggerated, then he said with a sudden realization, "Oh, oh..."

I bet that Fudge never dared to tell you his name, right?

"Yes," Mr. Major nodded. "I found it strange at the time that he didn't even dare to mention this person's name."

It's as if the name is something terrifying.

"Some say he put a curse on that name," Sirius said with a shrug. "But I don't think Muggle would hunt down and kill a Muggle just because Voldemort say that name, do you think?"

Mr. Major's apple bobbed as he looked around and decided he should increase security at 10 Downing Street.

"Don't worry, Voldemort won't come to kill you," Sirius said with a smile, reassuring Mr. Major.

"What if he really wants to kill me?" Mr. Major tried to keep his expression normal.

"Don't worry, the Charms kills very quickly and without much pain, just like Voldemort's favorite Charms, Avada Kedavra," Sirius chuckled as he told Mr. Major a characteristic horror story of the Magical World. "It won't cause you any pain; it will just take your life away directly."

Mr. Major's face turned ashen.

"Of course, if he chooses to use the Imperius Curse to make you fall from the building, try to make sure you land headfirst," Sirius added. "That will make it feel quicker."

"Alright, alright, let's not talk about how this person whose name can't even be mentioned killed me." Mr. Major's face turned pale, then he raised his hands in a stop gesture, and then said, "So what do you think this person whose name can't even be mentioned will do when he comes back?"

"It's hard to say, which is why I came to tell you this," Sirius said earnestly.

Mr. Major remained silent.

He scrutinized Sirius for a while before finally speaking, "So, what can I do?"

"I have some lists here." Sirius took out his wand and tapped it a few times in front of him. To the astonishment of his secretary Bernard and Prime Minister Mr. Major, photos and biographical sketches appeared on the table, lined up neatly in a row.

The two huddled together, their eyes fixed on the photos, and couldn't help but exclaim in amazement.

One of the women, in particular, with disheveled hair, was holding a piece of cardboard with her name on it and was screaming and yelling wildly at the camera.

She looks like a crazy woman—

Bernard even wondered if he'd have nightmares when he got home that night. "No matter how many times I see it, I'm still amazed by these moving photos," Mr. Major remarked. "But do you have any photos that look more normal? I remember you have a rule against exposing the Magical World to ordinary people, right?"

"It was my oversight." Sirius tapped the table with his wand, and the photos stopped moving.

"I will publish these photos," Mr. Major said earnestly.

He had no choice but to take it seriously, as it concerned his career and future; a slight misstep could ruin everything.

"I should remind you, Mr. Prime Minister—since these people made their public appearance, they have caused a great deal of damage. The Brockdale Bridge —he's the one who brought it down. Mr. Prime Minister and his ilk are a bunch of complete thugs," Sirius said.

"My God, it turns out that the deaths of those people were all your fault, while I was forced to answer those absurd questions about rusty equipment, corroded expansion joints, and so on!" the Prime Minister said angrily.

"This isn't my fault, Prime Minister," Sirius said helplessly. "It's the evil done by the Dark Wizard."

"But you're the Minister for Magic! Not me!" Mr. Major said angrily. "Do you know how many times I've been questioned by apes in this zoo-like House of Commons this week? I don't think you can imagine how embarrassing it was! I was driven crazy! Being burdened with a responsibility that wasn't even mine!"

With each step Mr. Major took, his anger grew. He had discovered the cause of all those terrible disasters, yet he couldn't tell the public—it was infuriating that it would have been better if it had been government negligence.

"I imagine you'll then tell me that he was also responsible for that hurricane in the west?" he asked again.

"There wasn't any hurricane at all," Sirius said helplessly.

"What did you say?!" the Prime Minister roared, already stamping his foot. "Trees uprooted, roofs torn off, road signs bent, mass casualties—and you're telling me now that there was no hurricane at all, but that the destruction was caused by those Dark Wizard?!"

"That's just how it is." Sirius rubbed his eyes and said to Mr. Major, "Listen, Mr. Major, all I can do right now is send a team of Auror into your cabinet. These wizards will be in charge of your security."

Mr. Major's face froze.

"Of course, it can't all be blamed on you." His expression softened as he said to Sirius, "After all, how could we possibly predict where those Dark Wizard would carry out their destructive activities? Of course—I still hope your department can quickly apprehend these Dark Wizard to prevent further destruction, what do you say?"

Sirius nodded and said, "Of course, things haven't been completely without progress. It's just that the Ministry of Magic has been extremely busy lately. They're hunting down these Dark Wizard, and we've also sent out several batches of Obliviator to rewrite the memories of all the Muggle who witnessed what happened. It's a huge undertaking."

"Also," Sirius said again, "there are a few more pieces of good news that I think I should share with you, Mr. Prime Minister—"

We learned that Voldemort had tried to recruit Dementor and giants, but he failed.

"Soul-capturing—soul-capturing what?" Mr. Major's eyes were clearly drawing circles.

"Dementor are non-existent, dark creatures, considered by many to be the most vile things in the world." Sirius began explaining to Mr. Major what Dementor were, "These things suck away people's happiness, causing those who come near them to feel depressed and hopeless. They can also steal people's souls, turning them into a kind of walking corpse, leaving only an 'empty shell.' Therefore, Dementor are also described as 'devils that steal other people's souls.'"

"You actually let such a dangerous thing guard the prison?!" Mr. Major looked incredulous.

"Ever since this Islet was discovered, it has become a paradise for Dementor," Sirius explained to Mr. Major. "In 1718..."

In 1848, Damocles Rowle was elected Minister for Magic. He insisted on choosing Azkaban as the wizarding prison, believing that the Dementor on the island could serve as guards, saving time, money, and effort—despite opposition, the plan was implemented.

"Azkaban has always served as a prison in the wizarding world because there are almost no escapes or violations of Secrecy Statute."

From that time onward, Dementor served the Ministry of Magic as guards of Azkaban. This allowed them to survive within the high walls by absorbing the positive emotions of prisoner.

"Then why didn't they accept Voldemort's offer?" Mr. Major asked, puzzled. "I have reason to believe that Voldemort would have offered a price you respectable wizards couldn't, like letting them freely consume the pleasures of Muggle."

"Because of him," Sirius said to Mr. Major, glancing at his godson beside him.

"Him?" Mr. Major also glanced at Harry, who had been sitting silently in place, clearly somewhat incredulous.

Bernard did the same; he straightened up, intending to take a good look at the young boy.

He had always assumed that the boy was a junior to the Minister for Magic in front of him, and that he was simply there to broaden the boy's horizons.

If Harry knew what Bernard was thinking, he would definitely laugh out loud.

Broaden your horizons?

Emperor Franz of the Austro-Hungarian Empire and Emperor William II of the German Empire were far superior to you. I chatted and laughed with them!

"Oh," Sirius chuckled and said, "Harry is my godson, but he is also the most talented wizard in hundreds of years. The reason why those Dementor dared not accept Voldemort's invitation is because of my godson."

"Really?" Mr. Major's face clearly showed disbelief.

Sirius didn't explain much. If you don't believe me, you don't believe me. There's no need to show off in front of a Muggle. So what if he 'Yes, Prime Minister?

Why should I, Sirius, need to explain my actions to others?

However, at that moment, the Living Room window suddenly moved.

The wind and rain were howling outside, and the windows were shaking violently.

Suddenly, the window disappeared, and the sound of the wind and rain outside became even clearer to everyone inside.

Mr. Major noticed the mysteriously vanished window. He swallowed hard and pointed to it, saying to Sirius, "Minister, the window—the window is gone!"

Even though he had just displayed the demeanor of a master baker, when faced with a real life-or-death crisis, Mr. Major was a bit timid.

Just kidding. Life is only once. Who would want to joke about their life?

The lights in the Living Room suddenly flickered and then went out, plunging the surroundings into darkness. Only the dim light from the streetlights illuminated the Living Room.

Immediately afterwards, plumes of black smoke suddenly rose from outside, transforming into long rainbows in the sky before rapidly swooping down toward 10 Downing Street.

The black smoke landed and transformed into wizards wearing black cloaks and various terrifying masks.