A Certain Magical Hogwarts

Chapter 317 The Prisoners of Azkaban

Central North Sea,

It has a place where storms gather year-round.

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

Because in the middle of the sea, there is a small island with a prison called 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, flying towards the island.

The chariot was pulled by seven Thestrals!

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

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

A sudden gust of wind and a giant wave prevented the carriage from approaching the island.

A huge iron lock, like a black python, cleaved through the sea.

The iron cable, which was over two hundred meters long, began to speed across the sea, twisting into a huge arc in the blink of an eye, like a scorpion's tail, and nailed hard to the rocks of the small island, instantly causing sparks to fly everywhere.

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 Aurors.

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

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

"Yes, Minister." Standing next to Fouché 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 Aurors immediately went to communicate with the Dementors.

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

"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 it was last summer vacation...

"Yes, Minister, you have a very good memory."

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

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

"It should have been Cici who came this time, but she's sick, so I had to visit her in prison. After all, I'm Bella'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 this. He won't like you talking about purebloods, 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 is amazing, but he's meddling way too much!"

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

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

"He colluded with other wizards to oust you from your position on the school board."

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

"Look at the kind of teachers Dumbledore has found... smugglers, Death Eaters, dark wizards, liars."

He also wanted Hagrid, a criminal, to be a teacher who protects magical creatures.

I think it's necessary to prevent my son Draco from taking this class; 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 Man from Darkness 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 nothing better to do than 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 Thestrals... We endured quite a bumpy ride... It's a pity we didn't have enough budget this year..."

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

"What's wrong, Lucius?"

"It's nothing." Malfoy looked troubled, and said painfully:

"The Ministry of Magic's transportation is indeed outdated... How about this, I'll donate some Galleons, 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're truly the conscience of the magical world!

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

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

"She's your sister-in-law? Then I'll give you half an hour to be alone 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 to Azkaban prison.

This is a triangular building that occupies most of the island's area, and the space inside has been expanded using a seamless stretching spell.

It guarantees that it can accommodate all of Britain'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, which shone faintly from their cloaks, gray, thin, and scabbed, trailing behind a pile of shriveled wizard corpses.

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

The Dementors 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, barely suppressing his nausea.

"To deal with the corpses in the prison," Fudge said. "So many wizards die every day, and the Dementors 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 the draining power of a Dementor."

"The prisoners 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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