Hogwarts: This professor is too Muggle.

Chapter 162 Dementor Jailer

When the vibrations from the bumpy road reached his coat pocket, the vibrations were not severe. Peter Pettigrew tucked his tail in, and with one toe missing, he arched his limbs inwards, trying to grab the silk cloth of the young professor's pocket. However, he did not dare to use too much force for fear of leaving marks with his claws.

After all, Azkaban was not as smooth as a glass jar, but he had become accustomed to staying in someone else's pocket. He curled up into a ball and tried to reduce his presence, listening to the conversation between the female Auror and the young professor, and still able to spare some time to look at the environment outside.

There were no living creatures or green plants within sight, just a bare expanse. The sky and the rocks were almost the same color. The only sound echoing on the empty island was the sound of wind and waves. The deep blue waves washed over the rocky cliffs, breaking into white splashes of water.

Such repetitive monotonous noise and stereotyped scenes make it difficult to concentrate. The brain unconsciously empties and allows thoughts to wander.

……

In the white porcelain cup depicting violets, there is hot pumpkin juice. The air is filled with steam and the juice tastes sweet and delicious.

Peter Pettigrew and the young professor sat opposite each other across a large desk, each daring to stare at the cup in front of them, not daring to look up.

Early in the morning, Peter was woken up by the young professor to have breakfast. The food produced by the Hogwarts kitchen was particularly tempting, but ten minutes ago, Peter was still in the form of a mouse, squeezed in a narrow glass bottle, with only his two eyes moving around.

"In fact, this task is not difficult." Melvin had a faint smile on his face. "I have prepared a truth serum for you. It is the work of the potion master Snape. The effect is very good."

Peter was shivering as he held the porcelain cup. He was about to drink some pumpkin juice to calm his nerves, but when he heard this, he froze in place, not knowing whether to drink it or put it down.

An exquisite glass bottle was placed next to it. It was only half the size of a finger joint, and the outer wall was so thin that even if it turned into a mouse, it could be easily put on the body. There was a colorless transparent liquid inside, only one or two drops.

"Lying in Azkaban, waiting for Bellatrix to be alone, I'll find a chance to drop truth serum into her mouth and extract the information I need."

Melvin pushed the truth serum towards Peter. There was a thin string on it so that the mouse could carry it easily. "She is just a prisoner who has been tortured by Dementors for twelve years. She has no wand and is weak. She will not be dangerous. There is no need to reveal your identity at all."

"So you're willing to let me go?"

"Of course, we don't have any lingering hatred. If all goes well, you can become Scabbers the Rat or Peter the Warrior again," Melvin said. "If you feel unsafe in Britain and want to go abroad, I can give you some Galleons."

"Do you really trust me?" Peter asked timidly.

"Of course!" Melvin looked up, "But... appropriate confidentiality measures are necessary."

……

The mouse Banban raised his left forelimb. Where the inside of his arm originally was, there was a patch of mottled hair, and the pattern of an Ouroboros could be vaguely seen.

He had seen something similar before, with not only snakes but also skulls...

People called it the Dark Mark.

"In Azkaban, criminals with different sentences are imprisoned separately. Those in the fortress are sentenced to life imprisonment, and they are mainly Death Eaters..." The young female Auror's voice was light.

Peter folded up his limbs and curled up into a circle, his mouse eyes a little dazed.

Azkaban, where the Death Eaters were imprisoned...

That person should be here, right?

Three faces unconsciously emerged in Peter's mind. After a long time, his memory had become blurred, but he could still recognize them.

Remus's facial features were not handsome, his face was long and thin, and his pale skin made him look a little weak. He often wore a faint and slightly tired smile, and his eyes were filled with deep and complex emotions, as if hiding many heavy secrets.

I haven't heard from Remus for so many years. He must be hiding somewhere and living a hard life like me.

James is very handsome, with black hair and a square face. He always smiles unrestrainedly, which is very contagious. He has hazel eyes that are bright and full of energy. Years of exercise have made his steps very agile.

He could never catch the Golden Snitch again. He died twelve years ago, on the last day of October.

As for the remaining one with slightly high cheekbones and gray eyes, that was Sirius. In my memory, those eyes were always free and unrestrained. He dared to contradict the professor, dared to betray the Black family, and dared to take on the responsibility of the secret-keeper in times of danger, but secretly replaced the real secret-keeper with himself.

The picture in his mind suddenly changed, and those gray eyes burst out with blazing anger, as if he wanted to chew the bones alive and swallow the flesh and blood.

The bald mouse felt a palpitation in its heart and curled up even tighter, but a hint of determination flashed in its eyes.

"..."

By this time they had walked some distance, and the low sound of waves came from far away, then became farther away again. The rugged ground meandered and turned a few corners before they arrived in front of a low stone house.

The oak door was hung with a thick iron chain, but it was not locked. The female Auror pushed it open.

Pushing the door open, one sees a long corridor made of thick limestone with a rough surface, with separate cells on both sides.

The vast majority of the prisoners inside leaned against the wall, their gazes shifting at the sound of their footsteps. Regardless of gender, height, or height, they were all gaunt, grimy, and tattered, seemingly oblivious to the outside world.

The walls were occasionally covered with graffiti and markings that recorded dates, but they were scribbled and blurred.

"They're minor offenders, with sentences of only a few months, less than a year at most," Tonks explained. "If they pay the full fine, they could be released on bail, but they don't have the money..."

I have no money, so I can only be locked up here to feed the Dementors.

When Melvin first arrived in Britain, he visited Knockturn Alley and learned about the wizards living in the gutter, but looking at the criminals with numb expressions, he gained a deeper understanding of the British wizarding world.

Such an atmosphere made people unconsciously silent. Melvin was not in a hurry to send the rat Scabbers to the Death Eaters and slowed down his pace a little.

After walking around inside and coming out, Tonks skillfully closed the door, hung the chain on it, but left it unlocked, and walked to the next prison.

"The protection measures here seem very lax?" Melvin said casually.

“I felt the same way at first…”

Tonks hesitated for a moment, then explained in a low voice, "Azkaban doesn't need high walls and chains to hold them back. After being tortured by the Dementors, it's hard for criminals in the cells to think of escaping... Occasionally, when the weather is nice, the Aurors will let them out to relax."

"Has the prisoner in that room just been tortured by a Dementor?"

"They were sucked by Dementors three days ago and are now recuperating. These are prisoners with minor offenses and will only be tortured once a week. They will not be tortured again in the next few days."

Tonks paused briefly: "If an ordinary wizard is frequently fed on by Dementors, it can cause soul damage and drastic personality changes, making recovery difficult even after release from prison." What sustainable feeding...?

Melvin felt an absurd feeling in his heart. Compared to a prison for imprisoning dark wizards, this place was more like a farm for raising Dementors.

"This is an improved measure implemented by Minister Eldridge Diggory. It was even more cruel when Ministers Damocles Rowle and Perseus Parkinson were in office. They directly used Dementors to torture criminals to death. However, there were more criminals back then."

Tonks led the way, explaining, "It's said that in the dead of night during a storm, tears ooze from the fortress' walls, and anyone who sees them can smell despair..."

The two continued walking along the rugged rocks. After walking along the rocky road and turning a few corners, another low house appeared in front of them.

It is made of simple rocks and has rough exterior walls. As you get closer, the cold and ominous feeling becomes more and more obvious.

"Dementors eat in batches. Professor, you are very lucky to have caught up with them while they were eating." Tonks stopped at the door and said softly.

As soon as he finished speaking, he pushed the door open and walked in.

Before they had time to observe the prisoner, the dark shadow wandering outside the skylight attracted everyone's attention.

They were a group of monsters wearing tattered black cloaks, two or three meters long, with their heads completely hidden under their turbans. They stretched out their thin, scabbed, pale hands, like corpses soaked in liquid after death, without flesh and blood, only a layer of skin hanging on the bones.

A chill enveloped the entire prison. The air was almost frozen and stagnant, filled with a damp and cold smell, the salty smell of sea water mixed with the musty smell of humus soil. The lights seemed to become dim, and only the things under the cloak were glowing.

Melvin could sense Tonks's body tensing up beside him.

The prisoners here have longer sentences, more haggard faces, and more numb eyes, but they still cannot remain calm in the face of the Dementors. The moment they feel the cold, they all huddle in the corner and begin to tremble, clutching their sleeves tightly.

Shadows are similar to ghosts, existing between illusion and reality, unhindered by prison bars, yet able to breathe and touch prisoners.

The Dementor approached a middle-aged wizard in the corner, its hood slowly lowered, and a creepy gasp was heard.

The middle-aged wizard's body shook violently, twitching as if he had been electrocuted. His expression froze on his face, and his muscles began to twitch uncontrollably. His fingers spasmed and loosened his sleeves, and he fell to the ground with a dull thud.

Some intangible things were ruthlessly pulled out, turning into wisps of silver-white mist, overflowing from his eyes and mouth, and slowly being sucked into the Dementor's mouth.

It is emotion, it is memory, it is an abnormal magic.

Melvin had come into contact with similar things before, and he stood at a distance, staring blankly with wide eyes.

"Ha ha……"

The cell was filled with intermittent gasps, the sound was hoarse and it was impossible to tell whether it came from the prisoner or the Dementor.

The Dementor's chest rose and fell as if he was taking a deep breath, and each inhalation was accompanied by a low roar in his throat. The wizard's body and arms shook violently, and his fingertips trembled like cramps, scratching at the air, the walls and the rocks.

The sounds were all very slight, rustling, yet they carried a terror that went straight to the soul.

After a few minutes, the air became heavier and even smelled of death.

The Dementor raised its head and moved away from the prisoner, floating left and right in the room. The prisoner's body oozed cold sweat, which slid down his shriveled body and dripped onto the floor to form dark spots. His lips were frozen purple and had a sickly luster, as if some kind of magic was eroding his life.

Their eyes were still open, staring blankly at the ceiling, their limbs twitching, and finally they collapsed limply to the ground like an empty shell.

Perhaps it was because these prisoners had been tortured for too long, their souls and bodies were equally damaged, so the Dementors did not gain much. Their desires were aroused, but their appetites were not satisfied, making them even hungrier.

One of the Dementors was fluttering around anxiously when it suddenly noticed two other people in the cell. One of them was not wearing an Auror uniform and exuded an intoxicating scent, so it suddenly stopped in mid-air.

According to the agreement between them and the wizards, everyone else on the island, except the staff of the Ministry of Magic, is their food.

It was unclear how the Dementors communicated, but the other Dementors also noticed this fresh and delicious ingredient and slowly turned to face the young professor.

"Professor, I think... they seem to be targeting you." Tonks's face suddenly turned pale.

She was just an ordinary Auror who had just passed the training. Although she knew the Patronus Charm, she had no confidence at all in rescuing the professor from the group of Dementors.

"I think... they found the wrong person."

Melvin raised his hand, grasped the wand that appeared out of thin air, and pointed it forward.

The large group of Dementors paused for a moment, like a pack of wolves hunting and suddenly realizing that their prey was a lion. They frightened themselves in place and hesitated for a moment, not daring to attack.

But fear could not overwhelm appetite. The Dementor closest to him moved. It raised its two shriveled and pale hands and made a low, hoarse inhalation sound towards the young professor.

"Calling God..."

Melvin chanted the spell softly, his tone drawn out, his voice very light, lighter than the wind.

All magical creatures can feel a powerful magical force brewing.

Tonks suddenly discovered something incredible. The space of the entire prison seemed to be frozen. The prisoners lying on the ground and twitching, the Dementors rushing towards her, milky white spots of light appeared in the air, one by one, like mist.

"Guard!"

The young professor suddenly burst out the second half of the spell.

The silver light gathered and almost condensed into substance, like the full moon in the sky, or like a round egg with a pointed corner sticking out from the ball of light. The moment it broke the shell, light bloomed, and then the body condensed by the silver light burst out.

The animal transformed from Yinhui flew through the air like an arrow shot from a full bow, rushing towards the floating Dementors.

Dementors are indestructible and difficult to eliminate, all thanks to their bodies condensed by unique magic. However, in the face of equally strange magic, this characteristic is useless. They were originally unable to face the brilliance of the Patronus Charm, and now they are even more vulnerable.

In such a violent impact, the already tattered cloak was torn into more strips of cloth, the hands exposed outside became even drier, and the smell of damp and rotten was gradually dissipating.

The black shadow gradually faded under the silver light and turned into a bleak gray-black.

A group of Dementors fled, screaming.

(End of this chapter)