Chapter 259 Return to Azkaban

"It's very kind of you to come so soon, Rufus, and I'm sorry to bother you so late," Dumbledore said gently, "but there's a story I thought you might be interested in."

Scrimgeour frowned, his tawny hair was messy on both sides of his face, and his dark yellow eyes like a lion glanced sharply at the three people standing in front of him: Dumbledore, Snape and Anthony. They were standing among the rocks, each with a light shining on the tip of his wand. The wind howled all around, and the waves crashed onto the rocks with a deafening sound.

"Of course, I received your Patronus." Scrimgeour said, "You said it was related to Azkaban?"

His eyes glanced at Anthony suspiciously. Anthony smiled politely at him.

"Ah, yes," said Dumbledore, "We heard rumors that at sunset, someone saw a big black dog rushing into the sea and swimming away."

"A big black dog?" Scrimgeour repeated. The light from the distant lighthouse slowly turned around, casting a white light on the sea near them.

"We suspect Mr. Sirius Black has decided to return to Azkaban," Anthony said.

Dumbledore briefly explained to Scrimgeour the departure of Sirius, the newspapers in which the chips were packaged, and the Boggarts in the Screech Shack. "Sirius seems to be planning to return to Azkaban and take revenge on Pettigrew." Dumbledore said, "Although I must say that I cannot fully understand the reasons for his decision, judging from various clues, this is the most likely possible."

"But, this..." Scrimgeour said, then he paused, his eyes stopped on Dumbledore's face for a while, he turned his head suddenly, raised his wand and made complicated gestures towards the sea, "I An emergency ship will be arranged for you, Dumbledore. Anyway, Blake is the focus of the news recently... When you put him in the Hogwarts hospital to recuperate, you promised that nothing would happen to him except! Besides..."

He glanced at Snape and Anthony distrustfully while he was busy, obviously not understanding why Dumbledore brought two candidates for the dark wizard of Azkaban.

"I promise I didn't ask for Black to be admitted to the campus hospital." Snape said, "Believe me, I would be very happy to see what happens after he is admitted to St. Mungo's."

Dumbledore said calmly: "I'm sorry."

With a final flick of Scrimgeour's wand in the air, a familiar boat appeared silently in the waves. Scrimgeour lifted up his wizard robe and boarded the boat first. Dumbledore followed him, strode forward, and looked back at Anthony and Snape.

Snape's frown formed very deep shadows in the fluorescent light. He looked very reluctant, but walked up without hesitation. Anthony jumped on board, and the ship suddenly became very crowded. The waves lapped dangerously against the sides, rocking the boat from side to side.

"I think that's all," said Dumbledore easily. "We're good to go, Rufus."

…

Scrimgeour's wand guided the direction of the boat. Dumbledore stood on the stern of the boat behind him, his robes fluttering in the sea breeze, staring at the continent that was gradually moving away. Anthony and Snape sat on the damp, crude wooden seats at both ends, listening in silence to the roar of the sea.

"To be honest, I don't think Black can find Azkaban." Scrimgeour said loudly while scanning the surrounding dark water. "It is almost impossible to find an island in the vast ocean... …”

"That would be very difficult indeed," Dumbledore agreed. He waved his wand and the howling wind and crashing waves no longer disturbed the boat. Anthony suddenly could hear Snape's fingers tapping against the side of the boat.

"Azkaban has been hidden by magic for centuries." Scrimgeour said, looking down at a brass compass-like instrument on his leg and tilting his wand slightly. "No Muggle has ever found out. No wizard has ever found the way to Azkaban without the guidance of an Auror - let alone at night."

Anthony looked at the vast sea around him and had to admit that Scrimgeour was right. It's one thing to leave, but not necessarily so easy to go back.

Mist suddenly enveloped them. The fluorescent white light cannot penetrate the thick fog around them, but makes them appear sticky and uncomfortable white like a kind of spider web. Beneath them was pitch-black, bottomless water. In the silence, it almost feels like you're sailing into some kind of eternal nothingness.

"And these mists," said Scrimgeour, "they—"

"It can make people immediately realize that they are near some kind of wizarding building, which immediately shows that they are not too far from the target." Snape said unceremoniously. He sat close to the wooden board behind him, looking pale under the light of the wand, and seemed uncomfortable.

Scrimgeour looked over angrily, but seemed unable to find any suitable rebuttal for a moment, so he just looked at Snape with a very uncomfortable look, then turned back gloomily and continued to stare at the direction of the boat. .

"Henry, what do you think?" Dumbledore asked.

"Uh... Anyway, why don't we go to Azkaban first?" Anthony said. "After all, that is where Sirius is most likely to go. By the way, have its security measures been strengthened?"

When he left, he just politely asked those dark, weird Dementors, and they led him to a small boat, floated in front of the boat and led him to the end of the fog, and then turned around and flew back to the island.

When he sailed out of the fog, the familiar continent stretched out in front of him, and his boat broke through the sea like an arrow, sliding into a remote harbor where several small boats were parked. He still remembered how the napping guard sat up in surprise, the newspaper slipped from his chest, and kept that surprised expression when helping him contact the Ministry of Magic, and even helped Anthony point out the route back to the supermarket to ask for leave.

Scrimgeour took a deep breath: "Azkaban has always been very safe."

"Well..." Anthony said, "Well, if you must say so."

Dumbledore sounded a little more serious: "I remember talking to Cornelius about the problem of Azkaban, his trust in Dementors..."

Scrimgeour was silent for a while, and whispered: "The Minister believes that Dementors are our very important allies. Over the years, Dementors have never had any problems..."

"Never?" Dumbledore said.

"Well." Anthony said, and saw Snape turned his head and looked at him calmly in his peripheral vision.

Scrimgeour sounded a little annoyed: "Well, most of the time! Most of the time!-We are here."

He sounded almost relieved.

The fog had dissipated at some point, and in front of them was a huge monster that almost completely blended into the night. The boat shook violently, then hit something and stopped. In the light of the wand, Anthony recognized that this was the dock where he came last time.

The lights in the duty room were off. Judging from Scrimgeour's expression, he didn't seem surprised. He took a breath, stood up, and walked onto the island first.

Dumbledore stepped onto the rocky ground nimbly, and even had the leisure to turn around and extend his hand to Snape and Anthony. Snape sneered at this, walked out of the boat palely, and reached out to hold the wooden pillar of the dock next to him.

"Thank you, sir." Anthony said, pulling Dumbledore's arm to stand up.

The four of them quietly went up to the island from the small stairs on the side. Anthony couldn't help asking: "Is there no one on duty today?"

He still remembered that the staff and the Auror allowed him to keep the skeleton cat, and he was grateful for it.

"Oh, no." Scrimgeour said, "There haven't been any recently."

Anthony said confusedly: "Then-"

"In fact, usually no one is on duty... You know, the Dementors are enough..." Scrimgeour said, looking at Anthony, obviously understanding why he asked, "But it was a special period at that time."

"What special period?" Anthony still didn't understand.

Dumbledore chuckled, "Harry is ready to go to school, isn't he?"

Scrimgeour hesitated and admitted, "Yes." He seemed to dislike the environment of Azkaban very much, his brows were tightly knitted, and he was willing to answer any human voice, "We think it is very difficult for the Death Eaters to find a missing baby, so if they want to do something, they will probably choose a specific time and place."

"Eleven years old, Hogwarts." Dumbledore nodded, "Very correct."

"Oh." Anthony said.

They continued to walk up. The ground was full of gravel, making a rough friction sound under their footsteps. Anthony didn't remember climbing such a long staircase before, but it might be because he was trying to talk to the Auror at the time and was not in the mood to enjoy the scenery. The wind made a humming sound near the fortress, and several Dementors flew in and out of the empty windows.

They came to a large iron gate. Anthony remembered that the man who brought him here had taken out a bunch of jingling keys, but Scrimgeour simply drew a pattern in the air with his wand, whispered something, and a red light flew out from the tip of his wand and disappeared into the iron gate.

After a while, a Dementor came near them.

Anthony looked sideways. Snape was holding his sleeve and wand tightly, and Dumbledore's face was more serious than ever before. Scrimgeour was breathing heavily, and the muscles on his cheeks twitched slightly. Among all the people, it seemed that he was the only one who felt nothing.

"I need to enter Azkaban." Scrimgeour said to the Dementor.

The Dementor slowly stretched out a hand with rotten flesh hanging on it, gesturing something.

"I said, I need to enter Azkaban!" Scrimgeour strengthened his tone, "Don't you know who I am? Or, let me put it this way, is there anything that shouldn't come to Azkaban, but has entered the prison?"

The Dementor paused and gestured to the four people in front of him. Anthony pointed at himself with amusement, but the other three were not amused at all. Scrimgeour's tone became even more rude: "Let us in!"

The Dementor made some kind of hollow, gurgling sound, which sounded like a swamp in the cave slowly swallowing its prey. Dumbledore stepped forward and stood beside Scrimgeour. His hair fluttered wildly in the wind, and his eyes stared sharply at the Dementor in front of him, causing the horrible creature to involuntarily float back and stop the uncomfortable sound.

"Let us in," said Dumbledore, in a tone that Anthony had never heard him use before. "You heard me."

The dementor grunted with dissatisfaction for a while, stretched out his rotten hand, curled his knuckles, and knocked on the iron door. With an unpleasant creaking sound, the heavy iron door opened. The dementors flew past them, bringing up a gust of cold wind and flying into the Azkaban fortress.

Dumbledore's eyebrows furrowed. Anthony felt anger radiate from him, almost like a physical fire, but Dumbledore quickly let it go out, saying calmly: "Okay, let's go."

Scrimgeour seemed to still be immersed in the frustration of the Dementor refusing his orders and obeying Dumbledore. He nodded silently, raised his wand, lit the fluorescent light, and walked into the iron-black prison.

"Which cell was Peter Pettigrew placed in?" Anthony asked.

"Inside," Scrimgeour said solemnly, "is Sirius Black's former cell."

It was as quiet as Anthony remembered. Apart from a few faint sobs that echoed through the walls, the only sound left was breathing. The prisoners who were still awake looked numbly and blankly at the fluorescent light as they passed by, or smiled incompletely with their few remaining teeth.

Going further inside, they could see more dementors. These guys in black robes floated back and forth in the corridors, stopping in front of a cell from time to time and taking a deep breath. At this time, there will be a trembling banging sound in the cell.

"Have you ever felt more than one person in any of the cells?" Scrimgeour asked the Dementor next to him.

The dementor continued to inhale as if he was not listening.

"Forget it, let's go. These things are blind, and most of them are deaf... They can only rely on their sense of smell... Unless Black is crazy, I can't think of why he would want to come back here." Scrimgeour whispered. The voice said, "Call the gods to protect you!"

A silver lion appeared silently beside him, patrolling the cells on both sides majestically, or lowering its head and baring its teeth at the gathered dementors. A few dementors retreated awkwardly, but more dementors were still behind them, following them.

"That's Peter Pettigrew's cell," said Scrimgeour. "The door is locked, and—look, there's only one person in there."

"But, Mr. Scrimgeour," said Anthony, illuminating the scene ahead with a steady white light, "I suppose Peter Pettigrew isn't that tall, is he?"

Their light seemed to alarm the standing figure. The other person turned his head, and Sirius's handsome face was revealed under his disheveled hair. In his hand was a squeaking rat.

"Oh, well, Minerva," whispered Anthony. "Grey eyes, black hair, about this tall."