The New Minister of Magic

Dewey endured the excruciating pain, watching his ribs shift and protrude as if they had come alive.

Soon, another Auror arrived to dispel the hex.

It was a different Auror, one who wielded an oak wand.

He did not dispel the hex out of any mercy for the prisoners.

The more pressing reason was that someone was coming.

They could not let the bigwigs from the Ministry of Magic catch them torturing the inmates.

"Stay put and keep your mouth shut. Don't say a word you shouldn't, or I'll make you taste a Dementor's Kiss."

The Auror threatened.

Dewey let out a hideous laugh.

It sounded like a screeching night owl.

"Aha, it seems a real big shot is coming this time. Rest assured, I will die, but certainly not today. I won't be feeling a Dementor's Kiss, but you lot certainly will."

Dewey said, filled with malice.

Tossed out of the cell where Sirius was held, Dewey shouted and hollered at him.

Sirius remained wooden and silent, but Dewey had seen it—ever since he saw the Daily Prophet, or rather, since he learned that Peter Pettigrew was still alive, he had shown signs of life.

But now, he seemed truly brought back to life, a fire ignited within his heart.

Killing Peter Pettigrew was revenge, but protecting Harry Potter was his ultimate goal.

Having seen the Daily Prophet and realized that Peter was right beside Harry Potter, he had come alive once more.

It was as if a flame were burning in his heart.

Even the Dementors could not extinguish these flames.

"No one can hurt Harry Potter."

Sirius told himself.

He was gathering his strength.

"I can get out of here."

He told himself.

Dewey was thrown out.

Clearly, the bigwigs from the Ministry of Magic were not interested in seeing small fry like him.

"Remember what I said."

The Auror threatened Dewey, "Don't talk nonsense, and don't force us to summon the Dementors to deal with you, scum."

Dewey chuckled with a wheezing sound.

As the Auror left, Dewey began to think rapidly; without the Dementors coming in for their scheduled feeding, his mind had cleared slightly.

"Who could it be?"

Dewey did not know; he didn't even know what year it was. He hadn't had time to look closely at that newspaper, and in his limited memory, he recalled several times when Ministry officials had come for inspections.

Who would it be this time?

And what was written in the Daily Prophet?

He hadn't paid attention to the paper, because during those final two punches, he had finally spotted the card he had been dreaming of lying on the ground.

[Animagus]

[Animagus: A complex spell of little use in combat; its side effects are perhaps far more severe than its benefits.]

["Hi, you little rascals, don't touch that cat; that's your Deputy Headmistress."]

Dewey took a deep breath and looked around. The Ministry of Magic had an agreement with the Dementors: whenever high-ranking Ministry officials came to inspect, the Dementors would obediently leave the area and stay behind the island's mountain.

After a day, they would return, and that was when their gluttonous feast would begin.

Those damned monsters would repay the hunger of a day's fasting tenfold.

In other words, if Dewey wanted to escape, he had best take this opportunity.

He did not want to stay here for even another minute, another second!

Not a minute, not a second!

[User: Dewey Jones (Alias)
Learned Cards:
[Levicorpus (Level 1)] (Blue Rare)
[Protego (Level 1)] (White Common) *4

[Stupefy (Level 1)](White Common)*6

[Alohomora (Level 1)](White Common)*17

[Apparition (Level 1)](Purple Epic)

[Reparo (Level 1)](White Common)*3

[Impedimenta (Level 1)](White Common)*5

[Wingardium Leviosa (Level 1)](White Common)*18

[Animagus (Special Card)]

Title: None

Magic Points: 10

Magic Essence: 0

Duel Points: 1

Dewey didn't care about these trivial spells; he only knew that he finally had cards.

Animagus.

When these spells appeared, it was as if they drilled straight into his brain, embedding themselves into his cerebral cortex, allowing him to cast them at will.

Even without a wand!

Wandless magic!

Just now, when he wanted to transform into a small, flying ant, he received a prompt.

Insufficient Magic Points!

"How could this be?"

He had been on the verge of success, only to fall short at the final hurdle.

His mood plummeted from a mountain peak into a basin, driving him nearly mad!

This was something Dewey could not accept.

"This damn, this fucking Magic Point system, how on earth do I obtain them?"

There was no time for anger. Dewey quickly investigated and soon discovered that the growth of Magic Points required the conversion of Duel Points.

A ratio of one to ten.

To obtain Duel Points, he needed to engage in combat with others.

Unilateral beatings did not count.

That was why Dewey only had one point.

He had gained one Duel Point after fighting with Sirius.

Using Animagus required fifty Magic Points.

In other words, Dewey needed four more Duel Points, meaning he had to duel at least four times.

"I need to find the Death Eaters."

Dewey made his decision immediately.

When it came to his freedom, his mind was exceptionally clear.

Staggering to his feet, Dewey headed deeper into Azkaban.

There were many prisoners in Azkaban, but most were devoid of life; even if Dewey were to smash their heads in, they wouldn't fight back.

Only those die-hard Death Eaters were different.

They firmly believed that Voldemort would return and lead them to glory.

They were among the few prisoners in Azkaban who maintained their strength and sanity.

They were also rare, high-security prisoners who hadn't committed suicide.

"Bella."

Dewey thought of one person: Bellatrix Lestrange. She was one of the most die-hard Death Eaters known, and the most loyal follower of Voldemort. If he beat her, she would certainly fight back!

If that didn't work, Dewey could insult Voldemort in front of her, calling him a "filthy Mudblood."

Bella would absolutely not remain indifferent to that statement.

Having made up his mind, Dewey looked around. He had been dumped in a remote area, usually a gathering place for Dementors—dark and full of resentment.

But today, the Dementors were "off duty."

Relying on the memories in his mind, Dewey moved quickly through the corridors and soon arrived in front of Bella's cell.

Bella sat quietly in her prison, the cell door—which originally had no lock—now fitted with a perfunctory one.

"Alohomora!"

Dewey cast the spell wandlessly.

5 points of mana vanished in an instant; the card system informed him that wandless magic consumed significantly more mana.

He needed a wand.

For instance, that apple-wood wand.

An apple-wood wand, though the core was unknown.

As it stood, apple wood was quite suitable for Transfiguration.

Opening the door, Dewey crept silently into the prison cell.

Bellatrix raised her head and looked at Dewey.

"Oh," Bellatrix glanced at Dewey, as if coming back to life. She spoke in a voice filled with malice and a mocking tone: "Let's see who this is. Dewey, Dewey Jones, a filthy, cowardly Ravenclaw."

"What are you doing here?"

"Are you being tortured by those Dementors to the point of wishing for death, wanting me to snap your fragile neck to set you free? Or perhaps you hope I'll crack your skull open to let the cowardice inside your brain escape? Mmhmm, do you need to throw yourself into mommy's arms and cry? Little darling."

Bellatrix stood up, mocking Dewey.

Dewey lunged forward violently.

He was running out of patience.

One punch!

Bellatrix was knocked down by the blow, her mouth agape in shock; she had never expected to be attacked here.

By a timid, filthy Ravenclaw.

She caught the scent of blood.

"How dare you... how dare you..."

She said in disbelief. Dewey didn't speak; he pounced and landed another punch.

Bellatrix let out a shriek, pointing at Dewey and trying to cast a spell, only to be interrupted by another punch from Dewey!

He wasn't sure if Bellatrix still had magic.

Nor was he sure if she could perform wandless magic.

After the beating, Dewey obtained the cards, sprinted out, and turned to lock the door.

Only then did Bellatrix react. She rushed over, veins bulging on her hands, shaking the cell door incessantly, but it was locked tight, and no matter how she shook it, it wouldn't budge.

"Let me out, you disgusting, nauseating piece of trash, let me out!"

"I swear, I will make you learn the meaning of respect with a wand."

"Let me out now, you traitor."

"The Dark Lord will treat you to a Crucio, believe me, I will make sure of it!"

She cursed loudly, but to Dewey, it had no power at all.

She kept repeating the same few phrases, and Dewey's heart remained as still as an ancient well.

He glanced at his Duel Points.

Duel Points: 2.

The two cards Bellatrix dropped were very Death Eater-esque.

[Avada Kedavra]

[Avada Kedavra: Perhaps only by harboring the malice to kill can one cast such a vicious curse. Never forgive (One of the three Unforgivable Curses)]

["Avada Kedavra"]

Avada Kedavra was a purple card.

Dewey looked at the other card.

[Crucio]

[Crucio: My malice toward you is to make you wish you were dead. Enjoy this moment of pleasure, wizard (One of the three Unforgivable Curses)]

["Spare us, we truly don't know the Dark Lord's whereabouts, no, Longbottom, no, don't torture him"]

As expected of Bellatrix, Dewey thought.

He had beaten Sirius for so long without a single Dark Magic card dropping.

After just a few punches to Bellatrix, two Dark Magic cards had fallen.

Bellatrix was truly a notorious Death Eater and dark witch.

Dewey hid in Bellatrix's blind spot, waiting until she was tired of cursing before silently approaching, using "Alohomora" to open the cell door, and going in for another round of punches.

He intended to farm enough points for his needs right here with Bellatrix.

Bellatrix screamed in fury, trying to kill Dewey several times, but each time, Dewey escaped with ease.

She wished she could just bash her head against the wall and be done with it!

On the other side.

A boat finally drew near to Azkaban.

Cornelius Fudge, the current Minister for Magic, stepped off the boat and let out a long sigh as he gazed at the prison before him.

"Azkaban."

He said to himself.

An aide followed behind him, pretending he hadn't heard a thing.

This inspection of the prison was merely one of the publicity stunts for the current Minister for Magic, Mr. Cornelius Fudge.

"For the natural rights of man."

He declared to the newspaper reporters trailing behind him.

Fudge was not a capable leader; his success was purely accidental.

He became Minister for Magic only because the first-choice candidate, Barty Crouch Sr., saw his reputation plummet after his son was revealed to be a Death Eater, causing him to lose the race.

The second-choice candidate, Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, had refused the position.

Fudge, being third in line, became the Minister for Magic.

He had simply stumbled into the position of Minister.

Dewey could never have imagined that he had lost all sense of time in Azkaban.

He believed he had been tortured in Azkaban for a few years.

But the reality was that he was on the verge of insanity.

He had been tortured for eleven years.

This year was Harry Potter's third year at Hogwarts; he was about to enter his third year of schooling.

It was currently his second-year summer break.

He was about to advance a grade.

The current year was 1993 A.D.

A full eleven years had passed since he was first imprisoned in Azkaban.