The Auror shook his head regretfully. "As you wish, sir. But let it be known that I warned you beforehand."
"Cut the crap!"
The magically powered lift creaked into motion. After hurtling wildly through the darkness for a while, it suddenly came to a stop.
The doors opened, revealing a dark, bottomless corridor that seemed to stretch endlessly before them. It was so profound that merely looking at it felt like staring into an abyss.
It gave the illusion that one wrong step would see you dragged inside, never to escape for eternity.
Only two braziers were lit near the lift doors in the deep corridor. Two Aurors wrapped in heavy coats stood guard on either side.
Thick white mist billowed from their mouths and noses, a sign of the freezing temperature.
Feeling the icy air rushing in as the doors opened, the Auror operating the lift shivered. He pointed his wand at himself to warm up temporarily with magic, then introduced the place.
"This is the maximum-security prisoner section, Mr. Weasley. Unlike other areas, Aurors are stationed here in shifts all year round. And..." He deliberately emphasized his next words. "...even for distinguished guests like you, the Dementors here will not be withdrawn. They keep a close watch on everything in this place!"
As if to validate his words.
An even more intense chill suddenly swept over them.
Vaughn raised his head and saw a hooded figure emerge from the spot beyond the brazier light where there should have been a wall.
It looked like a floating tattered bedsheet—ragged, eerie, and towering. In Vaughn's eyes, it took the shape of a humanoid stretching all the way to the ceiling as it slowly drifted toward them.
Then it extended a hand.
The hand glimmered faintly, gray and withered, shriveled like