The Prisoner of Azkaban

central North Sea,

There is a place where storms gather year-round.

This place is forbidden not only to Muggle, but also to wizards.

Because in the middle of the sea, there is a small island, and on that island is a prison— Azkaban.

July,

The storm reached its peak for the year, with gale-force winds whipping up seawater, wave after wave, sweeping across the island as if to wash away the prison built of black rock.

Amidst the storm clouds, a black carriage resembling a hearse streaked across the sky, Accio towards the small island.

The chariot was pulled by seven Thestral!

An Auror steed the Thestral down from the downpour, its wheels skimming the water and creating huge splashes.

Centered on the carriage, a magnificent splash of water suddenly bloomed on the sea.

Ventus and towering waves prevented the carriage from approaching the island.

A massive iron lock, like a black python, cleaved the surface of the sea.

The iron cable, over two hundred meters long, began to whirl across the sea, twisting into a huge arc in the blink of an eye, like Scorpion Kick, and slammed into the rocks of the small island, instantly sending sparks flying.

Pulled by the iron chains, the carriage finally slowly reached the shore.

The car door opened, and a wizard stepped out. He was short and stout, with a head of neatly groomed, shiny gray hair.

He was wearing a pinstripe suit, a bright red tie, a long black cloak, and purple pointed boots.

He was wearing a dark green top hat, which flew off in a gust of wind.

Behind him followed a dozen or so Auror.

"Oh, Merlin." Fudge's feet touched solid ground, and the motion sickness finally subsided a little.

"The weather's terrible, isn't it, Lucius?"

"Yes, Mr. Minister." Standing next to Fudge was a man with light blond hair.

"So, I'm really curious about why you're coming here."

Fudge headed toward the prison, and without him saying a word, a group of Auror immediately went to communicate with the Dementor.

He didn't want to become food for the Dementor.

"If I remember correctly, this is your second time applying to come to Azkaban, isn't it?"

The last time your wife came was last summer vacation, I remember...

"Yes, Minister, you have a wonderful memory."

Malfoy felt a bit cold, so he wrapped his magnificent cloak tighter around himself.

"As you probably know, my wife Cissy is a child of the Black family. As Bellatrix's younger sister, it is only natural for her to visit her sister."

Cissy should have come this time too, but she's sick, so I had to visit her in prison. After all, I'm Bellatrix's brother-in-law."

"But we all know... it's best to stay away from Death Eaters," Fudge said uneasily.

"Of course, no one hates Death Eaters more than I do," Malfoy drawled.

"But for Pure-blood families like ours... the noble ties of our blood are always hard to sever, aren't they?"

"That's true." Fudge smiled.

"But it's best not to let Dumbledore hear you. He won't like you talking about Pure-blood, and he won't allow you to visit Death Eaters."

"But I thought you were the minister, didn't I?" A shadow crossed Malfoy's eyes.

"We all know Dumbledore amazing, but he's meddling way too much!"

A principal should act with self-awareness and not meddle in other people's business.

"Lucius, I know you're unhappy with Dumbledore." Fudge pretended not to understand Malfoy's provocation.

"He conspired with other wizards to oust you from your position on the School Governor."

"He kicked me out because he knew I would object to Hagrid becoming a teacher!" Malfoy retorted.

"Look at the kind of people Dumbledore chose as his teachers... smugglers, Death Eaters, dark wizards, liars."

He also wanted Hagrid, a criminal, to be a teacher who protects Fantastic Beasts.

I think it's necessary to prevent my son Draco from taking this course; I don't want him to get hurt.

Fudge cleared his throat and said, "Although I don't like Hagrid either, he has been exonerated."

"Let's not talk about Hagrid then. Weasley's son almost killed my son. Dumbledore still hasn't given me an answer, you know..."

Fudge waved his hand, interrupting, "Lucius, Dumbledore is the headmaster after all; school affairs are not my responsibility."

My advice remains the same: stay away from these Death Eaters. We all know the You-Know-Who is dead; these Death Eaters have no future!

Malfoy nodded; he didn't want to get involved either. What he wanted was Gringotts ' gold.

Otherwise, who would have the time or inclination to travel to Azkaban?

Fudge continued, "Lucius, pay more attention to our Ministry of Magic than to the Death Eaters."

Merlin, can you believe it?

We came to Azkaban in an old-fashioned Thestral... We endured quite a bumpy ride... It's a pity we didn't have enough budget this year..."

Hearing the minister's hint, Malfoy felt a chill and pulled his cloak tighter around himself.

"What's wrong, Lucius?"

"It's nothing," Malfoy said, his expression strained, "I'm in pain."

"The Ministry of Magic's transportation is indeed outdated... How about this, I'll donate some Galleon, what do you say?"

"That's so generous!" Fudge grabbed Malfoy's hand and exclaimed in delight, "Lucius, you're so generous, I don't know what to say!"

You are truly the conscience of the Wizarding World!

Whether he had a conscience or not, Malfoy didn't know; he only felt a slight pain in his chest!

"Let's go see that crazy woman, Bellatrix." Fudge was in high spirits.

"She's your sister-in-law? Then I'll give you half an hour to spend together, just the two of you, in a private room, how about that?"

"Thank you so much." Malfoy smiled. "I hope to see Sirius Black again."

He was my wife's favorite cousin back then.

Fudge glanced at Malfoy and nodded.

The group walked along a rock-paved path past Azkaban prison.

This is a triangular building that occupies most of the island's area, and the space inside has been expanded using Undetectable Extension Charm.

It guarantees that it can accommodate all of the United Kingdom's criminals.

Not long after they walked, a group of creatures appeared in the corridor. They were about three meters tall, wearing black hooded cloaks, and their bodies were gray, looking like rotting corpses.

They glided across the ground, their hands, emerging from their cloaks, glowing faintly; gray, thin, and scabbed, they dragged behind a pile of shriveled wizard corpses.

The Dementor sensed the group's joy, especially the two people in the crowd, who shone like fireflies in the night, bright and dazzling.

The Dementor took a deep, slow breath, as if they were old smokers who hadn't touched a cigarette in ages.

Even secondhand smoke can make them restless.

"What are they doing?" Malfoy asked, forcing himself to suppress his nausea.

"To deal with the corpses in the prison," Fudge said. "So many wizards die every day, Dementor have built a mass grave behind the prison."

They need to leave the bodies there.

"Lucius." Fudge's voice carried a hint of coldness.

"Whatever your purpose in coming here, I must remind you... no one can survive healthy life after being fed on by Dementor."

"The Prisoner of Azkaban are a bunch of lunatics! It's also the cruelest place in the Wizarding World... a place of torture."

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(Thanks to "Hell Cat" for the generous donation.)