A Despicable Exchange

Sirius Black heard the beast-like roar from the man before him and felt as though he had encountered a madman.

But why would a madman know the name Peter Pettigrew?

Everyone believed Peter was dead, killed by him on the street.

He had believed it too.

That was why he had laughed hysterically when he was captured.

He had avenged James and Lily.

Sirius forced his rusted brain to turn with great difficulty, trying to think.

He hadn't used his head in a long time.

Under the ravages of the Dementors, there were no sane people left in the entirety of Azkaban.

Dewey was no exception.

He could only keep his mind functioning and capable of thought by clinging to a tiny shred of hope.

Apart from the Death Eaters, most of the other high-security prisoners had committed suicide in the prison.

Only faith and hatred were the sole antidotes here.

At this moment, he gritted his teeth and landed a heavy punch squarely on Sirius's face.

Black felt his head buzzing.

Even back at Hogwarts, he had never been beaten like this.

Usually, they were the ones beating others; no one had ever treated them this way!

He roared, attempting to retaliate, but Dewey dodged nimbly.

Dewey saw a card drop to the ground following his heavy blow.

A card that only he could see!

He pounced on it in a frenzy, and the card was instantly absorbed into his body.

A surge of information appeared in his mind.

He felt as though he had mastered this magic.

[Levicorpus]

[Levicorpus: One of the minor spells invented by the Half-Blood Prince, Severus Snape. It can hang a person upside down, much like a Niffler caught by its ankles.]

["Oh, Lily, it's not what you think."]

"Damn it!"

Seeing that this card was not the one he wanted, Dewey cursed and turned around quickly.

Just as he absorbed the card, Sirius charged at him.

Even without transforming into a large black dog, Sirius was a tall and sturdy man. He grabbed Dewey and threw a punch of his own, which Dewey dodged by ducking his head.

Dewey felt that the boxing fundamentals of this body were indeed not bad.

Having dodged the blow, Dewey cast a spell silently.

[Levicorpus].

In an instant, Sirius Black was grabbed by the ankles by an invisible hand and hung upside down.

He widened his eyes in shock, never imagining that someone could perform wandless, silent magic in Azkaban!

How did he do it!

He opened his mouth, but having not spoken for so long, Sirius couldn't let out a sound.

He had even grown rusty at the skill of speaking.

Dewey had already pounced on him.

With that single casting, all ten points of his magic power vanished.

Correspondingly, his duel count became 1.

Hanging upside down, Sirius only managed to choke out a few words before being punched in the face again!

Dewey was hanging on by a single breath.

He could not stop.

What he wanted now was the Animagus transformation.

He could not care less about anything else!

With this blow, another card dropped from Sirius.

[Protego]

[Protego: My dear, if you are looking for an effective defensive spell, trust me, this is it. The Shield Charm, your best friend in a duel.]

["Hey, Fred, those idiots at the Ministry of Magic don't even know how to use Protego. We're going to be rich!"]

Taking another heavy hit, Sirius erupted in fury!

A first-level Levicorpus hung Sirius upside down for less than a second before he crashed to the ground.

Staring at the thin, tall figure who had attacked him, Sirius lunged forward and knocked him down with a single punch.

Dewey and he rolled across the ground until, finally, Dewey was pinned beneath Sirius, who sat astride him!

Weight advantage!

Sirius was truly like a massive black dog, powerful and brawny.

He panted, spitting a mouthful of blood-tinged saliva to the side.

"Tell me," he said, staring at Dewey with his deep gray pupils, "how do you know..."

Dewey guessed he wanted to ask how he knew about Peter Pettigrew.

But he was about to be disappointed.

He felt that tidal wave of drowning sensation.

Dewey curled up, familiar with the routine, and shielded his head.

They were here!

The scent of happiness drifted away.

Before Sirius could finish his sentence, a sudden, drowning despair and cold enveloped the area.

"Damn it, Dementors."

Neither of them even knew where the Dementors had emerged from; Sirius sank to his knees, his grip on Dewey loosening powerlessly amidst the despair.

"Merlin's beard."

Even with prior warning, Dewey was shrouded in a cold, desperate chill like a Siberian wind; he felt the joy in his mind being ruthlessly drained away.

He hugged himself tightly and lost consciousness.

Sirius, too, fell into a faint.

The Dementor hovering in the air drifted away, satisfied after consuming their happiness, leaving two men lying on the ground, their fates uncertain.

After an unknown amount of time, Dewey was the first to wake.

Ignoring the urge to check his dueling points, he looked at the still-unconscious Sirius beside him and threw another punch.

A card dropped; he took a look, but it wasn't what he needed.

Another punch, another look—still not what he needed.

Dewey felt the despair in his heart growing more intense, and even his fists felt increasingly weak.

He was tired.

Suddenly, the punch he expected to land on Sirius's face did not connect.

His fist was caught by a hand.

Sirius had woken up too.

"Stop."

Like a wild beast, Sirius grabbed Dewey's arm and threw him off.

"Stop."

Sirius muttered to himself. His face was ferocious as he stood up, a rock in his hand; it looked like he intended to smash Dewey's skull open and let his brains see the light of day.

Looking at the blood-covered Sirius preparing to retaliate, Dewey saw his interface had recovered to ten magic points, and seeing these cards, he immediately thought of a better idea.

He didn't use Levicorpus again.

Discard morality, and you can live better.

Dewey thought.

He had an idea that didn't involve getting beaten up.

"Alright, Sirius, drop the rock in your hand first, unless you want to be hung upside down by my Levicorpus again like before."

Dewey pointed at Black and screamed in alarm.

Sirius smiled hideously.

"You can try. Although I don't know who you are, I will definitely smash your skull before you can cast your spell."

Sirius said viciously, "Do not doubt my methods or my resolve."

Dewey thrust his head forward. "Then smash it open, Sirius, unless you don't want to know where I got the news about Peter Pettigrew.

Peter Pettigrew is not only alive, he is right beside your godson.

The Dark Lord is reviving; guess what Peter Pettigrew will do once he hears this news?

What will happen to Lily and James's son?"

This sentence struck Sirius's soft spot; he seemed to be infused with strength, coming back to life.

He dropped the stone in his hand and hoisted Dewey up once more. "Do you know what you're saying, you bastard?

If you're lying to me, I'll eat you alive!

Believe me, I swear on the name of the Black Family: if you're lying, I will kill you.

Who are you?

What do you know?"

He interrogated Dewey, his emotions running high.

Dewey leaned against the wall, ignoring Sirius Black entirely.

He only felt a gnawing hunger in his stomach, which meant he had likely missed lunch while he was unconscious.

This was not good news.

Azkaban was no buffet restaurant; their daily meal service was strictly timed.

"You've made me miss lunch, or perhaps dinner, Sirius."

Dewey said.

"I can answer your questions, but for every question you ask, you have to let me punch you once.

If you agree, we can begin.

If you don't, you can crack my skull open, or use wandless magic, or Legilimency—whatever you like.

Be my guest."

Dewey continued, acting as if he were beyond fear.

He offered no resistance to blows or insults, projecting the image that unless he was allowed to hit back, he wouldn't say a word.

Sirius Black loosened his grip.

He stared intently at Dewey.

Dewey knew he would give in.

Compared to news of Peter Pettigrew, Sirius wouldn't care about taking a few hits to the head.

He was a man who cherished friendship and family.

Especially with Harry Potter as his godson.

For the sake of Harry Potter.

He wouldn't mind taking a couple of punches to the face.

Dewey felt nothing for his own despicable tactics of using such precious bonds as leverage.

In Azkaban, those with morals and conscience had long since committed suicide.

Aside from Voldemort's loyal followers, only innocent men like Dewey and Sirius Black remained, struggling to hold on.

He had to get out of here.

No matter what.

No matter the means.

Hearing Dewey's words, Sirius Black leaned his face forward.

"Fine, I've memorized your face, you piece of trash.

Get on with it."

He said.

Dewey looked at Sirius Black's face and threw a punch at it with all his might!

A card dropped. Dewey didn't have the strength to stand, so he crawled over, absorbed the card, and said feebly: "There, that's one punch down.

Ask your first question."