Chapter 278: The Escape Duo
"I'm hiding down here too—what am I supposed to see?" Garr snapped irritably, glancing back toward the distant sea. Just then, a shark glided past the ship’s side, and Still Nervous recoiled, pulling his head back inside.
"Anyway… whoever it is, they're definitely a powerful wizard. Probably an Animagus. I saw a bird fly out of the water."
"What kind of bird?" Lockhart asked.
"An eagle, maybe," Garr guessed. He wasn’t much of an expert on birds.
The two fell silent, exchanging uneasy looks.
"Peter Pettigrew's dead. Now what do we do?"
...
Lockhart’s escape from his cell had been witnessed by the surrounding prisoners, who erupted in a chorus of demands for him to set them free too. But during his time in prison, Lockhart hadn’t just endured the Dementors draining his happiness and plunging him into despair—he’d also been repeatedly mocked and bullied by the other inmates. His fame and appearance, once sources of admiration, had only made him a target in this moral abyss. Instead of elevating him, they had reduced him to the lowest rung of the prison hierarchy.
So when he finally broke free, he didn’t help his fellow prisoners. Instead, he systematically targeted them—one by one—with the Forgetting Charm. Given the strength of his spell, the consequences were devastating: these men would spend the rest of their lives as hollow, mindless shells.
Then, from the cell across the aisle, Garr called out to him.
Garr was a relatively minor offender—an vampire with a small amount of magic. He’d been caught using magic to steal blood from a Muggle hospital, violating both the law and the Confidentiality Act. That crime had landed him in Azkaban.
At first, Lockhart had no intention of freeing him. But Garr changed his mind with a single question:
"You escaped your cell. But do you know how to deal with Dementors?"
Lockhart assumed he was capable of casting a Patronus Charm. So he let him go.
In truth, Garr couldn’t perform such an advanced spell. He’d never even attended Hogwarts. When confronted by a Dementor, his only option was to transform into a large bat and charge straight at it, knocking it aside with brute force.
Dementors fed on human emotion, but they were clumsy when faced with simple animal minds. Garr managed to collide with three of them in succession—until he was utterly drained, nearly reduced to a mushroom-like heap. Reluctantly, Lockhart hoisted the dejected bat onto his back and escaped.
While fleeing through the maze of corridors, they encountered Peter Pettigrew—confined in a specially reinforced cell.
For a time, news of Peter Pettigrew had dominated the headlines. Lockhart and Garr both recognized the infamous traitor—the loyal servant of the Dark Lord.
Now, in his cell, Peter was spinning in place, his small eyes lighting up the moment he saw them. He lunged forward, gripping the iron bars. "Help me! Rescue me!"
His cell had no window—only a dense grid of bars, barely wide enough to slip a single finger through. Food was fed in via a narrow tube. The floor and walls gleamed with a metallic sheen, thick and unyielding. The design ensured that even if Peter transformed into a rat, he couldn’t dig his way out. But the cost was high—he lived in constant torment.
Seeing that Lockhart and Garr showed no sign of unlocking his cell, Peter pressed his face tightly against the bars and shouted:
"Even if you escape, you'll be fugitives! Who else can protect you? Dumbledore? Only the Dark Lord can!"
...
In the end, the three of them became a team.
Peter wanted to free more prisoners, but most of the short-term inmates refused. They knew that staying put meant eventual release back into society. But if they escaped and were caught again, they’d face the Dementor’s Kiss—certain death.
Besides, could they even escape? Azkaban had floated in the middle of the ocean for centuries, and no one had ever made it out.
As for the long-term prisoners—most had been so thoroughly drained by the Dementors that they were barely functional, some even completely insane. They wouldn’t be help. They’d only slow the group down.
Garr suggested Peter seek out his former comrades—the Death Eaters imprisoned in a special wing. These men had been insane even before imprisonment, and decades in Azkaban hadn’t fully erased their madness.
Peter turned pale. He refused instantly.
The one person he feared more than Voldemort—or even Dumbledore—was his old Death Eater allies.
Especially the most fanatically loyal ones. They knew Peter had delivered the message that led to Voldemort’s disappearance. And in their eyes, he was the one responsible.
Take Bellatrix, for instance. If she were ever freed, Peter had no doubt she’d curse him with dozens of Cruciatus Curses before killing him.
Only under the protection of the Dark Lord could Peter dare face them.
He painted a grand vision for Lockhart and Garr: if they helped the Dark Lord rise again, they wouldn’t just be exonerated—they’d reclaim power, wealth, and fame. The Dark Lord never failed to reward his followers.
And so, the trio began their escape.
Peter and Garr could both transform into animals—Peter as a rat, easy to hide; Garr as a bat, able to fly. Dementors barely registered them. Lockhart, though lacking Animagus talent, had a surprising advantage: his Forgetting Charm worked even on Dementors. When struck, they’d forget their purpose, standing dazed for minutes—just long enough for the three to slip past unnoticed.
They escaped the magical prison’s death trap—into the open sea.
But the ocean was vast and merciless. Swimming back was out of the question.
Fortunately, Garr could fly. He soon spotted a nearby fishing boat.
But their luck ran out.
"Peter Pettigrew’s dead. What now?" Lockhart asked.
The man who promised to lead them to the Dark Lord was gone. Lockhart had no direction. He didn’t know where to go.
"For now… we need to survive in the Muggle world," Garr said after a long silence, his face grim. "The Ministry of Magic won’t find us easily in a city this big. But we can’t use magic openly. We’ll have to get normal jobs…"
Lockhart longed for his fans, for the fame and best-selling books that once defined him. But there was no choice. He had to follow Garr’s plan.
They devoured the fishermen’s dinner—wolfing it down hungrily.
"What about these fishermen? Should we throw them into the sea?" Lockhart asked.
"No! Leave them. They can help cover our tracks. Just use your Forgetting Charm to erase their memories of us," Garr said, uneasy. "Otherwise, that killer might come back…"
Both shuddered violently, terrified.
They made their decision. Then, they slipped back into the ship’s hold, hiding once more as the old fishing vessel drifted toward an unknown future.
(End of Chapter)
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