Chapter 1287: Falling into a Trap
Chapter 1287: Falling into a Trap
Late at night, a ship was sailing on the turbulent sea, cutting through the waves.
The old oil lamp at the bow gently swayed with the waves, still illuminating the way forward for the ship.
Suddenly, several eerie shadows glided past the ship, and a thick layer of frost silently coated the deck.
A wizard on lookout duty, clad in a thick cloak and holding an oil lamp, shivered involuntarily and muttered a curse. He quickly hung the lamp, now covered in frost, to the side and stepped into the cabin to warm himself. Not all Dark Wizards could withstand Dementors.
Deprived of their source of happiness to suck upon, the Dementors guarding the ship began to slide forward, escorting the vessel towards the sea ahead.
"It's freezing out there, I hate Dementors."
"Here!"
A slightly drunk wizard poured him a glass of whiskey. "Today is a good day."
"Yes, indeed."
"That madman is finally dead."
"A cause for celebration."
The wizard on lookout duty took the whiskey and clinked glasses with the others, downing a large mouthful and joining in the condemnation of Scrimgeour.
Indeed, a lot had happened that night.
Especially the news of Scrimgeour's death, which was undoubtedly good news for them.
After the fall and restructuring of the Ministry of Magic, those who had lived in the gray areas finally welcomed their spring. They no longer had to worry about persecution from Scrimgeour's government.
This meant that the British magical community would enter the era of Lord Voldemort, the best of times for them.
"A toast to the Dark Lord."
If they wanted a share of the pie in this era, they needed to take another step forward. Ideally, they would become Death Eaters themselves, members of the privileged few, just like them.
Several Dark Wizards secretly cast envious glances at a particular seat inside the cabin, especially the youngest man, Draco Malfoy.
In their eyes, how could such a softie be qualified to be a Death Eater? However, Draco Malfoy was oblivious to their gazes, still immersed in the pain of losing his family.
"Lucius is gone now, you need to pull yourself together," said Alecto, frowning slightly as she looked at Draco, his eyes red and swollen with grief. She lowered her voice and continued, "Once this matter is settled, you should return to Hogwarts."
"Alecto is right, I think you should go back to Hogwarts too!" Gagsons said, though his tone conveyed his disdain. He truly looked down on Lucius, and even more so on the current Draco Malfoy. This guy was the scum of the Death Eaters.
"Next, I'm afraid I'll be taking up a position at Hogwarts," Alecto continued.
"I thought it would be Snape," Gagsons said, eyeing Alecto in surprise. "Or did the Dark Lord ask you to..."
Alecto glared at Gagsons, silencing him.
"I'll also be taking up a position there, and perhaps I can offer you some help. As for your wedding, if the Parkinson family has no objections, I'll handle the arrangements when the time comes. Lucius may also ask Snape to do it, but it might be better if I take care of it. Snape may not be familiar with certain wizarding family matters."
The relationship between the Carol and Malfoy families was not as close as one might imagine, but when Lucius was tasked with capturing Harry Potter in his muggle dwelling, he had asked for Alecto's help, and she eventually agreed. After all, there were benefits to be gained, even if they might ultimately slip through her fingers.
Draco Malfoy remained silent. Lucius' death had dealt him a heavy blow, pushing him to the brink of madness.
In just a few months, he had inexplicably lost his parents, and his once happy life lay in ruins. He had no heart to even think about Pansy Parkinson.
Gagsons, seeing the dejected Draco, cursed him as useless in his heart and turned to look at Alecto.
"What subject will you be teaching at Hogwarts?"
"Dark Arts," she replied.
"But I heard that position is cursed," Gagsons remarked.
"It's Dark Arts, not Defense Against the Dark Arts," Alecto corrected him. "If you're so bored, why don't you go and check if that group is behaving themselves?"
"Are you sure someone will come to the rescue?" Gagsons asked.
Without waiting for a response, he poured himself a glass of whiskey and turned to look out the foggy window, muttering to himself.
"If we summon the Dark Lord and there's not a single enemy in sight, you know what will happen to us!"
Gagsons would much rather hand the prisoners over to Azkaban without incident.
Who could blame him?
If it were just members of the Order of the Phoenix or Harry Potter coming to the rescue, there would be no issue. But what if that oddball Albert Anderson tagged along?
They would all be in deep trouble, possibly even lose their lives.
"Someone has to try. Whether it's taking the opportunity to get rid of Harry Potter or wiping out a portion of the Order, it's all good for us," Alecto said, reaching up to touch the Dark Mark on her arm, displaying her unwavering loyalty to the Dark Lord.
"Or are you... afraid? Don't you trust the Dark Lord...?"
"Of course, I trust him," Gagsons interrupted impatiently. "I'm just..."
"Just what?"
"I just don't want to be bait."
Gagsons had no desire to end up like Lucius, suffering a horrible death.
After all, they had plenty of examples right in front of them, and there was no doubt they would be the bait.
"I'm here too," Alecto said.
"You're right," Gagsons conceded. He poured himself another glass of whiskey, took a large gulp, and walked over to the window, wiping away the condensation. He peered out into the darkness beyond the glass.
Suddenly, a dazzling beam of light pierced the night.
"What's going on?"
Gagsons shielded his eyes and pulled out his wand from his pocket.
"We're under attack!"
The cabin erupted into chaos.
Outside, the dark night was illuminated by a Patronus, and the Dementors that had surrounded the ship were driven away by the Patronus Charm.
"Should we storm in?" Sirius asked eagerly, ready to lead the charge to rescue those inside.
"No need, I have a better idea," Albert said, holding his broomstick in one hand and pointing his wand at the speeding ship. He caused the ship to fly into the air and then spin like a washing machine, certain that the guests inside the cabin would not enjoy the ride.
"What the..."
The trio was startled by Albert's actions, quickly realizing his intention.
"Follow the plan. Take everyone down first, then... let Dobby take you out," Albert said, suddenly turning his head as if sensing something. "Remember, don't dawdle.
"What is it?"
"An unwelcome guest is approaching. Your time is limited, preferably no more than five minutes. If things go south, just retreat. I don't want to duel with that guy here," Albert said, referring to the mysterious figure he had sensed.
With that, Albert set the ship down again, letting it sail towards Azkaban, which was shrouded in a storm.
"Hurry."
Moody took the lead, landing on the deck and blasting the door open with a spell.
Sirius and Kingsley followed closely behind.
Albert turned his attention back to the dark figure flying towards them.
It was Voldemort.
Had Voldemort sensed something, or had he never trusted the people on the ship from the beginning?
What a troublesome guy! (End of Chapter)
Chapter end
Report
