From Azkaban to Hogwarts.

However, an unpleasant sound from the corner caught the attention of the laughing players.

"Heavens—everyone's enjoying the wine, what are you doing?"

The player who was called out looked desperate. "I have class tomorrow!"

"Which day is there no class?"

"Self-defense techniques course!"

"You haven't finished your test? Mine is done, you can take it and copy it—remember to make a lot of corrections, don't forget the time you were caught copying a test and got locked up by the professor!"

After hesitating for a moment, Slytherin lent out the test paper and turned to go to his dormitory to retrieve his homework.

A few minutes later, the test paper was brought over.

"Hey hey hey..."

What are you grinning about?

"Two of the papers are double-sided! I just noticed—yours isn't done either."

Chapter 333 The True Prophecy

"Snap!"

The sound of the whip lashing against flesh stopped abruptly at its crispest point. The broken whip, mixed with blood, rolled down, got covered in dirt, and then lay still.

"Oops..."

The striker let out a muffled groan; his wrist had just slipped out of his grasp.

"No way, you injured yourself while hitting someone?"

The batter watching from the sidelines couldn't help but laugh, his tone full of sarcasm.

"Fuck your mother!"

After uttering an extremely rude curse, the thug responsible for the beating clutched his aching wrist and kicked the restrained Little Star a few times.

"Something weird—"

He spat again, "How long has it been, and you're still not crazy?"

"It'll be more interesting if they fight when he's not completely insane. If he's like the other prisoners deep inside, then beating him would be a waste of effort."

"That's true. We'll cause him trouble again tomorrow."

The man who had been hitting the victim shook his head, rubbing his wrist. "If you hurt someone like that, it's considered a work injury!"

"Exactly! We'll ask around later and see if the captain will provide any medical expenses or something."

The two chatted and laughed as they locked the cell door tightly, checked it one last time, and then left, making small talk.

'Damn it—'

Little Pettigrew struggled to lift his head and looked at the tightly locked cell door—after all this time, the guards were still as careful as ever.

He tried to shapeshift again, but his once-skilled Animagus abilities were no longer effective. After Dumbledore cast the spell himself, he had lost the ability to shapeshift.

'Hehehe…'

The madmen around them started laughing again—Little Star didn't even need to look up to know that the moon had risen.

For so many days, it has been like this: the Death Eaters around me live like zombies, occasionally waking up for a while, but quickly sinking back into their previous state of merely existing.

'Just alive?'

He moved himself to the wall, leaning against it, carefully making sure the wall didn't touch his wounds.

The moon was very bright, and although only a small patch of moonlight could be seen from the prison cell, it was still very beautiful.

'Can I escape?'

Such thoughts arose, just as they always have.

But this time it came on particularly fiercely, and it was impossible to suppress.

'How did that bastard Blake manage to survive?'

He couldn't hold on any longer—he really couldn't hold on any longer.

He never had the confidence to be independent. In school, he was Potter and Black; after leaving school, he was the Dark Lord.

He shouted the same things as the Death Eaters.

For him, being alive is the best reward; what difference does it make whether he's called "master" or some other title?

Whom can I rely on this time?

He carefully searched for someone he could rely on.

Dumbledore?

Impossible, Dumbledore personally sent him to Azkaban.

Sirius?

Blake wished he could kill him with a single curse.

Ministry of Magic?

He was of no use to the Ministry of Magic.

The former owner?

Perhaps if you look carefully you can find it, but how do you leave Azkaban?

How can one escape Azkaban and find the Dark Lord or Master amidst the combined attacks of Dementors, Strikers, Aurors, and even Dumbledore?

He was seeking asylum, not...

'Then I'll rely on myself—'

He stretched out his hand, which was missing a finger, and examined it carefully.

"If we stop resisting, there shouldn't be any more daily humiliation, right?"

"At least, like those crazed Death Eaters, I can live a foolish life instead of worrying about being whipped to death one day..."

"If you go crazy, you can survive."

"It's good that you're alive..."

"As long as you're alive..."

As if some barrier had suddenly shattered, the laughter and joy in my memory surged forth like a burst dam, breaking through the physical barriers and flowing outwards from the cell.

The temperature began to drop little by little, and one after another, Dementors dressed in black and gray robes silently approached the cell where Peter Pettigrew was imprisoned. They stood there quietly, removed their hoods, and revealed their black hole-like mouths.

After a long, long time, a satisfied sigh broke the silence, and the contented Dementors scattered like cockroaches.

-

"Harry Potter."

At the top of the Observatory Tower, Harry was stopped by Professor Trelawney.

This is an astrological divination course.

Perhaps because of the impact of Professor William's exam paper on the divination class, Professor Trelawney specially gave them a divination class tonight.

"Perhaps you cannot comprehend the truth contained within tea leaves, perhaps you cannot see the future in the light of a crystal ball, perhaps you cannot analyze future fortunes from the trajectories of constellations, but I will strive to unveil the true face of the world for you..."

In Ron's words, Professor Trelawney was jealous of Professor William's survey paper being so popular and was planning to find an even more popular one for the regular divination projects.

Harry agreed, but they couldn't be as capricious as Hermione, who could simply skip elective courses; there were minimum requirements for the number of students they could take.

'Damn it, why is cleaning the astronomical tower part of my detention list?'

Harry, who had to lag behind the others in cleaning, couldn't help but grumble to himself.

"Is there anything else that needs to be packed, Professor?"

He greeted Professor Trelawney with a smile, determined to finish quickly and leave—before Sirius was exonerated, he was always in danger, so how come he was fine once Sirius's innocence was cleared?

Even so, he still maintained basic politeness.

But Professor Trelawney's tone suddenly became very strange, and her loud, hoarse voice made him wonder if the divination professor in front of him was under some kind of curse—"This will happen tonight."

Professor Trelawney was slumped over the table, her head tilted to one side, her gaze unfocused. If Harry hadn't heard the sounds she made, he would have definitely cast a spell to raise the alarm.

"Excuse me, are you feeling unwell, Professor?"

Harry asked the question cautiously, but Professor Trelawney seemed not to hear him. Her previously dull gaze began to move along with her eyes, looking incredibly frightening.

Harry gritted his teeth, pulled out his wand, and swung it wildly into the sky.

Something was wrong; he needed to call for help.

A bright red light shot into the sky and then exploded in mid-air, creating a dazzling spectacle.

However, Professor Trelawney, who was opposite Harry, didn't notice the fireworks at all. After rolling her eyes, she began to speak in a hoarse voice.

"The Dark Lord lay alone, friendless, abandoned by his own comrades..."

"Snapped!"

After a loud bang, a figure appeared on the Astronomy Tower, and Harry pointed his wand at the suddenly appearing figure without thinking.

"what?"

Without a second thought, he immediately put down his wand, but halfway there, he suddenly realized something and firmly pointed the wand at the newcomer—the wizard who looked like Dumbledore.

"What happened, Potter?"

Dumbledore looked at Harry, seemingly oblivious to the wand pointing at him, his tone as gentle as ever.

"...the servant abandoned his master..."

Professor Trelawney's hoarse voice rang out firmly, seemingly oblivious to the occasion.

“Professor, Professor Trelawney, she…”

Harry tried to explain, but Dumbledore's expression suddenly turned serious. He took a small step forward, stared at Professor Trelawney in surprise, and gestured for Harry to be quiet.

'...sinking into darkness deeper than darkness itself...'