Fudge blinked.
"What?"
"I said, I'm so bored." Black turned his gaze back to Fudge's face, his tone as calm as if he were stating something perfectly ordinary.
I want a newspaper. An old one is fine, any newspaper will do.
Fudge opened his mouth, but for a moment he didn't know how to respond.
He had seen prisoners begging for all sorts of things, from drinks to cigarettes.
But this is the first time someone has asked for a newspaper.
What do you need the newspaper for?
"... Let's play a crossword puzzle," Black said.
Fudge stared at him for several seconds.
A notorious criminal, imprisoned in the deepest cell of Azkaban, wants to play a crossword puzzle in a newspaper.
He glanced back at his entourage, who were also looking at him with expressions that seemed to ask, "Should we agree?"
Fudge thought for a moment. Unlike letters, newspapers don't contain any coded messages or hidden information.
And Black was right, he really was bored.
A bored prisoner is much easier to manage than a crazy one.
If a few newspapers can keep this person quietly in his cell, then it's a very good deal.
"Alright." Fudge took a copy of the day's Daily Prophet from his attendant; it was what he used to pass the time on the ship.
He handed the newspaper in.
"Thank you," Black said politely.
Fudge nodded and turned to leave.
He took a few steps, then stopped and looked back.
Black had already spread the newspaper on the straw mat, his head down, as if he were looking at something intently.
Fudge shrugged and strode out of the cell corridor.
The iron gate slammed shut behind him with a dull thud.
Black slowly raised his head only after hearing the iron gate close.
He looked down at the Daily Prophet, his gray eyes fixed on the front page.
The front page featured a report about the Ministry of Magic strengthening security in Azkaban, accompanied by a photo of Fudge waving from the gates of Azkaban.
He didn't look closely and flipped over.
The second page is international news; the Gaul Ministry of Magic announced a new trade agreement.
The third edition is the quarterly report of the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes.
Fourth edition...
His fingers stopped.
The headline on page four was accompanied by a photo.
The photo shows a family standing in front of a huge pyramid. At the front is a woman with fiery red hair, next to her is a man with equally red hair, and behind them is a string of red-haired children.
It was the Weasley family.
Below the photo, in small print. " The Weasley family win the Daily Prophet's annual award and travel to Egypt."
Black's gaze slowly swept across the photograph.
His eyes were fixed on the boy standing in the middle of the line.
The boy was about twelve or thirteen years old, and half a head shorter than the older boys next to him.
A gray mouse was perched on his shoulder.
The mouse was very fat, almost round like a ball, and perched on the boy's shoulder, it looked several sizes larger than it should actually be.
It had one of its front paws resting on the boy's collar, as if trying to maintain its balance.
However, what's unusual is that it's missing a toe on its left front paw.
Black's fingers tightened slightly, and his pupils contracted sharply, as if someone had lit a lamp in his mind.
Peter Pettigrew
The chubby boy who always had an innocent smile and hid behind him and James back then.
The boy who became James and Lily's Secret Keeper after they hid.
The boy who betrayed him and James to Voldemort.
The boy who blew up a street full of Muggle, then cut off one of his fingers, turned into a rat, and ran away.
The boy who made everyone think he was dead, and then made everyone think he, Black, was a traitor.
But he didn't die!
He didn't die; he turned into a rat and perched on Ron Weasley's shoulder.
Black's expression shifted for the first time as he looked down at the article.
The text details the Weasley family's travel plans in Egypt, including the nine members of their family, and the awards they received.
At the end of the article was a small, inconspicuous addition. " The Weasley family children will return to Hogwarts on September 1st to continue their studies, and the youngest son, Ron Weasley, will be moving up to his third year."
Hogwarts... will return to Harry!
Black turned the newspaper over, his fingers trembling slightly.
He didn't need to look at the newspaper to know how old Harry must be now—thirteen years old, probably a thin, bespectacled little boy who looked a lot like James.
If Peter is at Hogwarts, right next to Harry, then Harry is in danger at any moment.
Peter could betray James and Lily back then, and he can hurt Harry now.
Black turned the newspaper back to the front, his gaze returning to the photo of the Weasley family.
His gaze moved past the corner of the photograph and landed on the supplement in the lower left corner of the newspaper.
The supplement's title was. "A Recap of Recent Events in the Wizarding World."
He continued reading.
" Hogwarts Castle was invaded by Death Eaters last October, resulting in the death of a professor and injuries to several others. Rumors of You-Know-Who possessing a professor have been confirmed..."
" Diagon Alley was struck by Fiendfyre this spring, destroying numerous shops, and the You-Know-Who has been confirmed to be involved..."
" The Department of Mysteries has confirmed that the You-Know-Who is not truly dead; his lingering spirit is still active..."
Black's gaze traveled down line by line.
For the first time, a slight look of bewilderment appeared in his eyes, but his fingers gripped the newspaper even tighter.
Voldemort is not dead; he is still lurking somewhere out there. If Peter discovers this, he will not hesitate to sell Harry's place to the highest bidder.
Black looked up at the empty corridor outside the iron fence.
The torches at the end of the corridor cast flickering shadows on the walls, and the smell of rotting wood mixed with seawater remained strong.
The wind was strong on the sea at night.
The moon was obscured by clouds, and the entire island was shrouded in thick darkness.
Torches inside Azkaban flickered deep in the corridors, casting long shadows on the stone walls.
Dementor roam outside the prison, sensing the most complex human emotions: sadness, fear, despair, and guilt.
Those emotions flowed like a river in Azkaban, every prisoner was immersed in it, and the Dementor could find anyone by following that river.
But animals are different.
A dog's mind is filled with only the simplest things: hunger, cold, thirst, and fear. But to Dementor, these things are like a gust of wind, leaving nothing behind.
No one saw it, but a black dog jumped off the iron bed.
Its body was so thin that you could see its ribs, like a layer of skin being held up by a skeleton.
It stood in the cell for a few seconds, then slowly walked toward the iron bars.
Although the locks on the chains were locked, several iron bars of the fence itself were loose, and due to years of disrepair, the stone base beneath had been eroded by seawater, creating cracks.
Those gaps grew bigger year by year; over the course of twelve years, Black watched them grow from the thickness of a finger to the thickness of a fist.
The black dog turned sideways and slowly squeezed into the gap between the two iron bars. With a slight struggle, he slid his entire body out of the gap.
It landed on the stone slab outside the cell, its four paws making no sound as they touched the cold stone.
The Dementor was floating at the end of the corridor.
The black dog moved along the base of the wall, taking slow and light steps, its paws barely leaving the ground.
It passed one cell after another, most of the people in the cells were asleep, and occasionally a few would wake up in the middle of the night and mutter to themselves while facing the wall.
The black dog didn't look back at them; it walked to the end of the corridor.
The black dog paused for a moment in front of the window, then leaped.
The black dog leaped out of the window, its four paws outstretched in the air, its body arcing across the night sky like a black ribbon.
The landing point was a rock.
It landed silently on the rock and steadied itself.
Then it didn't stop, but jumped directly from the rocks into the sea.
Next, he will swim across the boundless North Sea to reach Hogwarts.
He didn't know if he could swim across successfully, but he was determined to protect Harry.