"No need," Vaughn said. "Those Death Eaters make me sick. Take me to Dumbledore!"
The Auror breathed a sigh of relief.
He had truly been afraid that the other man would insist on continuing the tour. There were still several more floors of Death Eaters below. If another Dementor suddenly went mad and got injured by him, it would be hard for the Auror to explain.
He said cheerfully, "As you wish. Please stand still, Mr. Weasley. We'll return to the upper levels at once."
As for whether anything had happened in the cell earlier?
There was simply no need to ask. Apart from the merciful and innocent Mr. Fudge, no one believed Death Eaters deserved so-called human rights!
Later, the two guards would take a headcount. As long as no one was dead, any minor disturbance inside would remain their secret.
Back on the upper levels of the fortress, faint sunlight filtered through gaps in the clouds, casting a hazy glow over the small island.
After spending some time in the high-security prison block, Vaughn felt uncomfortable all over. Only after basking in the sun for a while did he follow the Aurors' directions and find Dumbledore in a rather cozy lounge on the fortress's top floor.
When Vaughn entered, the old man was sitting by the lounge window, his half-moon spectacles reflecting the sunlight.
Across from him sat an old man with tangled long hair and a vacant expression.
A thin silver thread emerged from the old man's forehead, its other end attached to Dumbledore's fingertip. Dumbledore's eyes shone with a deep blue light, countless shadows flickering through his pupils.
He was reading the man's memories!
"This is Morfin Gaunt?" Vaughn walked over to the old man and looked down at him.
The old man's hair was