The story was so absurd that even Harris Raymons could not help recalling that senior's "glorious achievement" at a time like this.
A joke was still a joke. That senior had indeed handed later generations a "great method" for dealing with Dementors, one that hurt the enemy eight hundred while costing yourself a thousand.
But Harris Raymons was not a masochist. He certainly did not have the ability to make a Dementor sick.
He had not come here to poison Dementors.
After watching the Dementor finish its lunch and leave, the raven, Sta, hopped into the cell and stepped right across the prisoner's face.
The owner of the cell was still lost in agony and had no attention to spare for his surroundings. Harris Raymons glanced at the prisoner's face and quickly matched him to his identity.
"Heiman Leopold. Charged with illegally capturing Muggles and conducting magical experiments on them, resulting in the deaths of two Muggles and the mutation and madness of another, all witnessed by an entire Muggle neighborhood..."
Harris Raymons looked at the gaunt-faced man and shook his head. "Serves you right."
This was Azkaban's long-term detention area. The people imprisoned here were usually kept for more than ten years, sometimes for life.
And Harris Raymons's target this time was being held in this section.
"Sirius Black. Once one of the sharpest vanguards in the fight against You-Know-Who, but before Voldemort's fall, he betrayed his friends, leading to the deaths of the Potters. Afterward, he even murdered Peter Pettigrew, blew up an entire street, and killed twelve Muggles..."
Every time Harris Raymons thought back on Sirius Black's crimes, he could not help clicking his tongue.
If the British Ministry of Magic had the death penalty, this man would have died who knew how many times over.
But for someone like that, why would his teacher want him rescued?
And what exactly did that line, Peter Pettigrew isn't dead, mean?
"Peter Pettigrew. Recipient of the Order of Merlin... posthumously, though. Supposedly blown to pieces by Sirius Black, leaving behind only a few fingers... wait."
Only after thinking it through carefully did Harris Raymons begin to sense that something was wrong.
"Leaving aside how a spell powerful enough to destroy an entire street could somehow leave a few fragile fingers intact, is magic on that level something you can just casually cast?"
If Sirius Black had that kind of power, how could he possibly have been captured?
Clearly, there was something wrong with what had supposedly been an open-and-shut conviction. And that made Harris Raymons lose his resistance to rescuing Sirius Black.
So any more detailed questions could wait until after he got the man out.
Harris Raymons did not show himself, because his real body was not here. He was only using magic to observe everything happening on this side.
Dementors could see through any kind of concealment and look directly at the soul, so a Disillusionment Charm could not let someone move freely through Azkaban. The only options were total concealment, or becoming an Animagus and taking animal form to slip past a Dementor's notice.
Harris Raymons chose not to appear in person, and instead let the raven Sta handle the rescue.
Even if he came himself, all he could do was have Sta use transfer magic to take him and Sirius Black out of Azkaban, which was completely covered by Anti-Apparition wards. Rather than waste effort bringing an extra person, it was simpler to let the bird do it alone.
He only needed to handle the communication.
The raven spread its wings and circled through the prison corridor. The Dementors it passed showed no reaction whatsoever. Even when Sta flew right past their faces, they paid it no attention.
Dementors had no eyes, and other than human souls, they cared about nothing.
Very soon, Sta landed in front of a cell door. In the dim cell, a thin, wasted figure lay collapsed in the corner, looking utterly lifeless.
A flash of lightning outside briefly lit up the man's face, and Harris Raymons immediately recognized the infamous wizard.
Sirius Black.
Clearly, he too had just received a Dementor's "caress" and was still in a dazed, half-conscious state.
The raven hopped into the cell, bounced all the way up the prisoner's leg, and came to a stop on his chest, tilting its head as it studied the stubbled face before it.
A pale face wasted by malnutrition. Hollow eye sockets. Cracked lips. And that vacant stare.
If not for the occasional rise and fall of his chest, Harris Raymons might have suspected his target was already dead.
"What a sin. If he really is innocent, then how is anyone supposed to repay all the suffering he's endured?"
Harris Raymons sighed.
He made no attempt to wake Sirius Black. He knew full well that rousing him in this state was almost impossible.
Rather than waste time on that, he was better off thinking about what to do if Sirius Black had already gone mad.
That possibility was very real. Sirius Black had already been here for more than ten years. And if Harris Raymons's information was correct, then he was a man who had been framed.
The problem was that his friends were dead, and the ones left behind hated him. He had almost no hope of ever leaving this place.
He might have been even more likely to fall into despair than an ordinary prisoner.
Still, his teacher had said that in the normal future, Sirius Black would break out of Azkaban. So if nothing inside Azkaban itself had changed, then perhaps Sirius Black still retained his mind.
Sta settled quietly on Sirius Black's chest and waited for him to wake.
About ten minutes passed. Just when Harris Raymons was beginning to wonder whether Sirius Black was already beyond saving, there was finally a change.
The emptiness in his eyes gradually faded, replaced by a flicker of life. A tear slipped from the corner of his eye, and then Harris Raymons saw the corner of Sirius Black's mouth lift in the faintest, strangest curve.
Harris Raymons: ...!!!
That was a smile, right?
That had to be a smile, right?
Why was he smiling? Hadn't the Dementor just sucked every last bit of happiness out of him? How the hell was he still able to smile?
That was honestly terrifying. What kind of will was holding this man together, that he could still smile under these circumstances?
For a moment, Harris Raymons felt as though he were looking at that legendary senior again...
No, that was not right. Even that senior had not been able to keep smiling after a Dementor drained away all his happiness. These were Dementors, creatures that could even suck away the pleasure a masochist got from pain. In theory, no one should have been able to smile in a state like this.
Clearly, this one was even more ruthless.
Harris Raymons had to take back what he had thought before. This man would not just avoid going mad in Azkaban.
He might actually be enjoying it.