Chapter 669: Fudge is to Blame
Chapter 669: Fudge is to Blame
Ever since he invited Lucius Malfoy to dinner, Minister Fudge had arranged for a visit to inspect Azkaban prison.
To be honest, Fudge disliked Azkaban, and he guessed there probably wasn't a single witch or wizard who wanted to set foot on that island. If he had a choice, he would never go to such a godforsaken place.
Scrimgeour, the Chief of the Auror Office, had no objections to Fudge's inspection. In fact, he couldn't object, as this was merely a formality. Especially now that Scrimgeour had heard certain rumors, he found the Minister's so-called reason of "maintaining peace in the wizarding world" quite amusing. This political stunt seemed rather belated.
The notorious Azkaban prison of the wizarding world was located on a small island in the middle of the North Sea. It was perpetually shrouded in stormy weather, often engulfed by waves, and only when ships drew near could one see a towering fortress standing amidst the tempest, its faint lights barely piercing the curtain of rain, unnoticed from the outside world.
There was no life on the island except for the prisoners, and no employee of the Ministry could bear to work in such harsh conditions. Not a single witch or wizard would willingly stay and work here.
Usually, only a handful of Aurors dealt with the wardens of Azkaban, transferring prisoners to the Dementors' care.
As for visitation, there was no such thing in Azkaban.
Fudge's inspection was undoubtedly a decision that took great resolve.
On a night of blizzard, a ship sailed through the tempest toward Azkaban prison in the North Sea.
The spacious cabin of the ship was lit with warm yellow light, and Fudge stood by the window, his mind seemingly elsewhere as he gazed out at the dark night and the raging waves.
Behind him, two Aurors who were accompanying Fudge sat in armchairs, drinking hot tea and reading newspapers to pass the time.
The ship navigated itself toward Azkaban, the only way to reach the prison.
Everyone knew about Azkaban, and that it was located somewhere in the North Sea. However, since maps couldn't pinpoint the prison's exact location, very few people actually knew where it was.
The ship smoothly navigated through the storm and approached the fortress of Azkaban, docking at the port.
Fudge held onto his wizard hat and stepped onto the infamous prison.
On the pier, the wind howled and the rain poured, instantly soaking the three of them.
Fudge regretted not bringing an extra thick cloak for this trip.
Suddenly, lightning cracked across the sky, momentarily turning the dark night into daylight. Above the fortress, countless Dementors hovered, keeping watch over the island.
A chill crept into Fudge's bones, causing him to shiver, but he gritted his teeth to maintain his image as the Minister.
The three of them made their way through the pier to the entrance of the fortress.
An Auror named Derrick stepped forward and communicated with one of the Dementors, explaining that the Minister of Magic had come to inspect Azkaban.
The Dementors didn't really care about such matters. They vaguely understood the wizard's intention and opened the entrance to the fortress, leading the trio on their inspection of Azkaban.
Not many witches or wizards were imprisoned in Azkaban. Most of them had committed minor crimes and were held there for only a few months.
If they didn't go crazy from the Dementors' influence, they would be released, and most who had experienced Azkaban once would never dare to make the same mistakes again, fearing imprisonment in this dreadful place.
In fact, Azkaban served as a symbol of the Ministry's authority. Whether Fudge liked it or not, most witches and wizards stayed law-abiding because they dreaded being sent to Azkaban and facing those evil Dementors.
The longest-serving inmates were Death Eaters from the time of the mysterious man's rise, when they had committed countless heinous crimes and murders. Quite a number of them had been sentenced to life imprisonment.
However, to Fudge's dismay, the Death Eaters were inherently evil beings, and they were far less susceptible to the Dementors' influence than ordinary witches and wizards. Even after languishing in Azkaban for over a decade, their sins remained unexpunged, though thankfully, they were not entirely immune to the effects of the Dementors.
As Fudge inspected the prisoners, he found them muttering incoherently to themselves in their cells, lost in the darkness of their minds. Many had gone insane, and there was little more comforting than seeing a criminal driven to madness, knowing they could no longer pose a threat to the wizarding world. Of course, it would be even better if they perished quickly, thus ridding the world of their presence altogether.
As Fudge made his way from cell to cell, he finally arrived at Black's prison.
What he saw shocked him to the core. Unlike the other witches and wizards imprisoned here, Black did not appear to have lost his sanity; on the contrary, he seemed surprisingly "normal."
This was undoubtedly bad news, and his old friend Lucius's wish would likely go unfulfilled.
"Cornelius Fudge, what brings you here?" Black was equally astonished to see a wizard in Azkaban. It had been a long time since he had spoken to anyone, and his voice was hoarse and unpleasant, his speech slow.
"I'm here to inspect Azkaban. It is the duty of the Minister of Magic," Fudge replied, glancing at the two Aurors guarding him and then at the two Dementors standing on either side of the cell, trying to conceal his unease.
It was peculiar that the Dementors seemed to have little effect on Black, especially considering that each prisoner had a Dementor standing guard at their door.
"Minister of Magic?" Black seemed bored and spoke in a hoarse voice. "I never thought a Minister of Magic would bother coming to this godforsaken place. It's mind-numbingly dull here. By the way, do you have any finished newspapers? I'd like to do the crossword puzzle to pass the time. I hope they haven't discontinued those word puzzles in the Prophet!"
Fudge felt deeply insulted, and his already pale face reddened. He had not intended to pay much attention to Black, but as he turned to leave, he asked the Auror beside him, Derrick, for the Prophet that he had stuffed into his pocket, and then had it passed to Black through the iron bars of the cell, thus granting the prisoner's small request.
"I'm shocked that Black hasn't been affected much," Fudge said to the two Aurors as they left the prison. "It seems that this inspection was necessary after all. Assign more guards to keep a close eye on Black, and if there are any developments, report to me immediately."
"I understand your concern, Minister," Derrick nodded, sharing Fudge's surprise at Black's resistance to the Dementors' influence. "I'll make sure to have more guards watch over Black."
However, little did Fudge know that he had just set something in motion.
The moment that copy of the Prophet was handed to Black, something changed. As he prepared to work on the crossword puzzle, his eyes widened, fixating on the front-page headline—a photograph of the Weasley family, winners of the grand prize Galleon draw, on their trip to Egypt. And in that photo, Black's gaze locked onto the boy holding a one-toed rat in his hands.
"He's alive... He's at Hogwarts... He's at Hogwarts!" Black muttered to himself, his eyes glued to the newspaper.
He suddenly lifted his head, his eyes bright with an inner fire, staring in the direction of the prison entrance.
He knew he had to do something.
(End of Chapter)
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