Hogwarts: Oh no, I've become Voldemort!

As they ventured deeper, the prisoners inside became increasingly abnormal. If the first group of prisoners had merely lost their sense of joy, like someone opening NetEase Cloud Music at midnight and going completely irrational, then the deeper parts of the prison were essentially a mental asylum.

The prisoners here could be described as full of energy. They lay on the ground with their wrists bound, occasionally rolling their eyes and convulsing as if they were having epilepsy, uttering incomprehensible howls.

The long-term mental torture had left them haggard and emaciated. Along the way, he saw mostly Death Eaters who had been imprisoned for more than ten years. The depths of Azkaban were almost entirely occupied by Death Eaters. Those who knew the area would think it was a prison, while those who didn't would think the Death Eaters were having a team-building event!

Their eye sockets were sunken so deeply that it looked as if a skeleton had been covered with a human skin.

Cyrus also saw Bellatrix Lestrange and her husband Rodolfos Lestrange, as well as the third member of the family, Rabastan Lestrange. Also present were Antonin Dolokhov, Mursebo…

They were all Death Eaters with names and identities, some of them quite old, who were from the same group that had followed Voldemort since his school days.

Logically, these men should have seen Tom Riddle before. But as Cyrus passed by these Death Eaters, none of the lunatics noticed him. Nor did anyone realize that this new prisoner was actually their "master" who had disappeared eleven years ago.

They were all wide awake, but what they saw was no longer what was before them. They could no longer distinguish between reality and illusion; what appeared before them were the most agonizing hallucinations of their lives.

“It won’t be long before you’re just like them.” Delis roughly shoved Cyrus into the cell and locked it.

Cyrus walked into the prison with his head held high, watching Delilah leave through the iron bars. He first took a deep breath, as if releasing all the heavy burdens, and then put on a relaxed expression.

You're wrong, we're different!

How could Azkaban possibly hold me captive?

The bright candlelight still shone in his dark pupils.

Chapter 86 The Guardian and Sirius

Delius ignored Cyrus's whisper, strode out of the grey prison, and drove away in his carriage. He didn't want to stay in a place like Azkaban for even a moment longer.

As soon as the prison cart pulled by the Pegasus Night Steed left, the lingering Soul Eaters could no longer contain themselves.

They had already consumed most of the pleasures of the other prisoners in the jail, and now they were extremely hungry, eager to savor Cyrus's fresh dessert. A soul that had never been in contact with a Dementor was more attractive to them than anything else.

In contrast, the emotions of the other prisoners in the jail were as repulsive as dead fish that had been rotting for hundreds of years.

Dementors are among the most vile creatures in the world. They lurk in the darkest and filthiest places, living in decay and despair, sucking peace, hope, and joy from the air around them.

They were draped in tattered, black robes, beneath which lay what appeared to be stark white bones, only without faces.

Now, hundreds of Soul Eaters rushed into the gray tower like madmen, afraid that if they were a step too late, they would completely miss out on the delicious food.

In the cramped space of the prison, they huddled together, emitting cold breaths that caused immense suffering even to the prisoners who were not their targets. All the good feelings, all the happy memories, were taken away by them, and layers of illusory shadows were pulled out from their bodies.

The prisoners immediately began to tremble violently, their eyes wide as if they were about to pop out of their sockets, and their faces as pale as the graves on the island.

Normally, the Death Eaters wouldn't miss a single moment of pleasure, but this time was different. Their shadows darted quickly through the tower's passageways, soon reaching the deepest part of the prison. Suddenly, the Death Eaters, who were almost driven mad, fell silent.

The sudden drop in temperature heralded the arrival of the Soul Eater, and everyone instinctively curled up in a corner, their mouths agape in disbelief.

There was only one exception—Sirius Black.

Hearing the Death Eaters howl in agony under the attack of the Soul Eaters was the only thing that had brought him joy in the past eleven years. It was just a pity that his range of movement was limited, and he couldn't see the miserable state of those hateful creatures.

Of course, if he were to become an animal, he could escape punishment. Chains cannot bind a dog's paws, iron bars cannot restrain its body, and even the Dementors have no interest in animal emotions. However, Sirius willingly came to this hell not to escape punishment, but to atone for his sins.

He only used the Animagus's power a few times when he was in the most desperate situations; the rest of the time, he relied on his strong will to resist.

Now, he wanted to see how long his new "friend" could withstand the attack of the Dementor before losing consciousness.

He watched as rows of Soul Eaters swept past him in unison. With the new bait emitting a pleasant aroma, the Soul Eaters seemed oblivious to the other prisoners. Even so, it was enough to cause trouble. Let alone facing so many Soul Eaters directly…

These guys could kill someone so easily; it's just a compromise they're forced to make for the sake of long-term food.

He felt no sympathy whatsoever; after all, someone going to Azkaban, and being imprisoned for life, was unlikely to be a good person.

But after waiting for a long time, he did not hear the expected wailing.

"Did he just faint?"

Sirius felt a little disappointed. The "newcomer" didn't make a sound at all; he probably just fainted.

But the next moment, he saw the most surprising scene of his life—the Soul Eaters, who had been advancing wave after wave, suddenly panicked. The Soul Eaters at the back did not know what was happening and continued to move forward, but the Soul Eaters in front began to flee as if they had encountered something terrifying.

As a result, the prison corridors were completely blocked.

Sirius had never seen a Dementor so terrified and panicked; it was as if a wizard had encountered Voldemort, or an eight-eyed spider had encountered a basilisk.

He was curious to know what had happened to make these "guards" so terrified. He walked curiously to the iron bars, pressed his thin face against them, and was instantly struck by a bone-chilling cold. Everything was frozen, and his palms were almost frozen to the iron bars, but he didn't care at all, as if the pain at this moment was fake.

Then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw a silvery light, an amorphous ray, like the moon shining on the clouds, or like the damp morning mist spreading through an autumn forest.

Sirius was overwhelmed with joy.

He recalled his happy times at Hogwarts, the many mischievous things he'd done with James, though aside from being a little harsh on Snape, it was all harmless; he remembered the mist that always hung over the Black Lake in autumn, and how they'd skate on it when it froze over in winter; he remembered the four animals roaming happily together in the castle on every moonlit night…

Then, his eyes welled up with tears.

How long has it been since he last recalled these happy memories?

Because behind these joys always lurks pain, betrayal, hatred, sorrow, and self-blame...

When he snapped out of his happy memories, all the Dementors of Azkaban had vanished, and his body felt warm.

“Guardian Angel Spell…” he said blankly.

"That's right, it's a guardian deity."

Cyrus appeared before Sirius's cell, looking at the tearful, dejected man, and said softly:

"Sirius Black—the most fanatical Death Eater under the Dark Lord, betrayed his closest friend James Potter, and used evil dark magic to kill Peter Pettigrew and thirteen Muggles..."

"Who are you?" Sirius looked up. He didn't let his guard down just because Cyrus had cast a Patronus Charm. On the contrary, it was obviously not a good thing that such a wizard had infiltrated Azkaban.

There's even less need to defend yourself.

If he wanted to, he would have told the truth eleven years ago. Even though Little Star is dead and can't verify it, at least Dumbledore might have trusted him.

But what's the point?

James Potter and Lily Potter won't come back to life, and besides, if they hadn't been so clever, the tragedy wouldn't have happened. So it doesn't seem wrong for them to call themselves the murderers.

Thank you to the following users for their generous donations of 100 points: "气质拿捏的死死" (a user's name), "书友20230117220512347" (a book lover), and "fearodeath" (another user's name).

Chapter 87 Unbreakable Vow

"Who am I? They call me Tom Riddle, but I'd prefer you call me Cyrus."

Cyrus wore the same black and white striped prison uniform as Sirius, but it made him look much more alert. He didn't look like a prisoner at all; he looked more like the warden in charge of Azkaban.

“I know who you are, Sirius.”

"Ha..." Sirius sat down on the ground as if he had heard an interesting joke, and said self-deprecatingly, "All the wizards in Britain know me, the most insane henchman of the Dark Lord."

“I know you’re not,” Cyrus said in a low voice. “You’ve never betrayed your friends, have you? Peter Pettigrew is the traitor. You didn’t refute any of the accusations during the trial because you wanted to atone in Azkaban, didn’t you?”

For the first time, Sirius's numb and cloudy eyes regained their sparkle.

"Who exactly are you? Who told you all this?"

“That’s not important. I can tell you a secret, but you have to do something for me. Don’t worry, it’s easy, and no one will get hurt.” Cyrus looked calmly into Sirius’s eyes and said softly.

“I don’t care what secrets you have!” Sirius refused without hesitation. He didn’t want to associate with a prisoner whose background he didn’t know. Who knew what kind of person he was or what his ulterior motives were?

He dragged his heavy shackles out of the cell and shrank into the darkness.

"Are you willing to wallow in this place instead of deciding to leave and do something to make amends for that poor child? Don't forget that you are that child's godfather. You can give him a real home, and you can become a family."

"Harry, the family..."

When Sirius spoke the name, he seemed to brighten like a star in the night sky, but then dimmed again, disheartened: "What can I do for that child? Do you think he'd rather be with someone who killed his parents? He'd be better off without me. Hagrid took him to Lily's relatives; they'll raise him."

“That’s only because you don’t know his situation. Harry’s probably not any better off at his aunt’s house than you are—” Cyrus shook his head. “The closet he sleeps in isn’t even half the size of your cell. Not to mention, he’s in danger now; the Man from Void has his eye on him.”

"The mysterious man? He's been defeated!" Sirius burst out of the darkness and gripped the iron bars tightly.

“Yes, but not dead!” Cyrus looked him straight in the eye. “Actually, he came back the year before last, trying to get the Philosopher's Stone to resurrect him, but Harry stopped him. He was a brave kid, wasn't he? But how many times could he stop the Man of Void?”

"And you, if you truly feel guilty and remorseful about what happened back then, then you should leave here and do what you should do. You can protect him from being harmed by—Peter Pettigrew."

"He's dead, dead! I drove him to his death!" Sirius went berserk the moment he heard the name of that vile traitor. He snarled like a mad dog, "He self-destructed, blowing himself to smithereens, leaving only a little finger!"

"Really? You think so? You saw his body?" Cyrus asked softly.

In reality, this argument is not very convincing. Sirius believes that Peter's body was destroyed by dark magic, and since it was destroyed, it is perfectly normal that there is no body.

However, Cyrus's confident tone made him waver: "Do you think someone as cowardly and weak as him would willingly sacrifice his life?"

Sirius seemed struck a heavy blow. He took a step back, trying desperately to recall every detail of what had happened. But he quickly realized that he couldn't find any evidence to prove that Peter Pettigrew was indeed dead.

"He... if he's still alive, how could he have gone so long without showing up?"

“Because he’s still scared. Think about it, he told the mysterious man where the child was, and what happened? The mysterious man disappeared! What will those Death Eaters think?” Cyrus shifted his gaze from Sirius and looked around at the other prisoners in Azkaban.

Sirius quickly understood what he meant.

Those who lost power because of the downfall of Mystic will not let Peter Pettigrew off the hook.

Even now, most of the Death Eaters are in prison, and the rest may not really want Mysterio to return. But if they can kill Pettigrew, at least they can give Mysterio an explanation when he returns.

“You know where he is, don’t you!” Sirius glared at Cyrus. “You know where Peter Pettigrew is! Tell me! Let me go and kill this traitor! Tell me!”

He roared so loudly that the noise even startled the other Death Eaters who were in a daze. They didn't hear what Cyrus and Sirius were saying, but they did hear Sirius's final roar.

Peter Pettigrew, who killed the Dark Lord, is still alive?