They said they were coming to "take a look," and that's literally all they could do—take a look. They couldn't do anything useful.
Once an Animagus transforms, magical traces vanish. The Homenum Revelio spell (or similar revealing charms) reveals nothing. Physical tracking only works up to the seaside; once the target enters the ocean, not a single clue can be found.
To put it bluntly, this was the Ministry of Magic's screw-up and had little to do with Hogwarts. Even if two-thirds of the prisoners here were Hogwarts alumni, so what? They committed crimes after graduation, not while they were students...
"Mr. Corlett, please return with us for investigation."
The moment they stepped out of Azkaban, the two officials—who had been cowardly as wet hens just moments ago—suddenly puffed up. They fixed their gazes on Owen: "Please explain voluntarily why you are able to control Dementors."
Owen couldn't even be bothered to make a facial expression. Dumbledore remained completely silent. They returned to the Ministry. Owen was seated in an interrogation room, while Dumbledore was invited to the Minister's office.
"Name."
"Owen Corlett."
"Age."
"Thirteen."
"What crime did you commit?"
"I don't know."
"Be honest. If you didn't commit a crime, would you be sitting here?"
Owen laughed out of sheer exasperation. "When I was eight, before I even knew what a wizard was, I was here, locked in this very room. No one told me what I did wrong. It was Headmaster Dumbledore who told me afterward that it was just an accidental magic outburst.
"Last semester, I came to the Ministry again. Not here, but in the public hearing room. The reason? Several dark wizards poaching in the Forbidden Forest claimed I used Unforgivable Curses on them—silently and without a wand.
"And this time, I went to Azkaban with Headmaster Dumbledore to check on the prisoner's escape and look for clues..."
At this point, Owen looked at the two interrogators. "Gentlemen, you tell me: what crime have I committed?"
Honestly, right now, the person Owen missed most wasn't Dumbledore, but Voldemort. If Voldemort suddenly appeared in the Ministry shouting Avada Kedavra, Owen might even secretly lend a hand to bathe the entire Ministry in green light.
No wonder the prisoners in Azkaban were all crazy. Forget them; even an emotionally stable young wizard like himself was nearly driven to a breakdown by the Ministry's operations. Anyone else would definitely go mad.
The first time was unconscious. The second time wasn't exactly a false accusation (since he did know the magic), but this third time? He came to help! The fugitive was nowhere to be found, yet he, the helper, became the subject of interrogation. And after this, they still expected his help?
Forget everything else. If he really encountered that prisoner named Sirius Black, he'd definitely slip the guy a bag of Galleons so he could eat something good, drink something hot, and wear something clean...
The interrogators were stumped by Owen's question. They hurriedly flipped through the records. Upon reading the end, one suddenly shuddered. "You can control Dementors?"
"Sir, watch your wording. I cannot control Dementors. They simply enjoy listening to me. In the words of Headmaster Dumbledore, the Hogwarts professors, and Mr. Newt Scamander, I have a tiny bit of talent for making magical creatures feel affinity towards me."
Actually, Owen was quite surprised too. Creatures like Dementors being so obedient... presumably, it had something to do with the fact that he maintained a Patronus Charm constantly?
Because they weren't feeling affinity toward him; they were... afraid.
Besides, when stepping onto the island, Owen had already decided: if any Dementor dared to make a move on him, he would summon Whitey on the spot.
The interrogation room fell silent. Owen sat there with his eyes closed, resting. In reality, he was practicing the Golden Light Mantra. Opposite him, the two officials were frantically flipping through various files. The more they read, the more shocked they became. This young wizard in front of them wasn't a Hogwarts student, but a Teaching Assistant!
That's right. Until now, no one had doubted that Owen was a Hogwarts student because Dumbledore had brought him to Hogwarts early, and he attended classes with normal students.
However, regarding paperwork, things were a bit different.
First, Owen had never received an acceptance letter handwritten by Professor McGonagall with the Hogwarts crest.
Initially, it was because he was underage. Later, because everyone was used to his presence, no one bothered to prepare one.
Furthermore, Owen had never taken a single final exam, so he had no academic record.
Hogwarts students knew that during final exams, Owen substituted for Professor Binns in History of Magic to proctor exams, but outsiders didn't know that!
So, the Ministry couldn't find any proof of Owen being a student. Conversely, his Teaching Assistant status—which Dumbledore had added to cope with Board of Governors inspections—was easily found...
Looking at this file, an insensitive person would immediately realize this young wizard was definitely "one of us," given his unique existence and Dumbledore's favor.
But if a smarter, more sensitive person looked at it, they would discover that this young wizard's growth path was incredibly clear: Starting as a Teaching Assistant, staying at the school upon reaching age, becoming a Professor of a certain subject, becoming a Head of House within a few years, and finally sitting in the Headmaster's office.
An even smarter person could calculate the timeline of this growth: Professor at 18, Head of House at 20, Headmaster at 30!
At the same age when others were still students, Owen was already a Teaching Assistant. In seven years, while others gained a degree, Owen gained seniority. Seven years as a TA—wasn't that enough to become a Professor?
And Head of House. Remember, the Head of Gryffindor, Madame McGonagall, was also the Deputy Headmistress. When Owen gained another two years of professorial seniority and took over as Gryffindor's Head of House, no one would have objections, allowing Madame McGonagall to focus fully on her Deputy Headmistress duties.
A thirty-year-old Headmaster might sound young. But when that time comes, look back at Owen's credentials: Seven years as a TA, two years as a Professor, ten years as a Head of House!
Forget everything else. With nearly twenty years of seniority, could he be Headmaster?
Twenty years of teaching meant knowing countless wizards, connecting with countless families. How deep would his network be?
Once they figured this out, could the interrogation continue?
So, when Dumbledore returned, what he saw was the young wizard half-reclining on the sofa, Butterbeer in his left hand, Honeydukes pastries in his right, lacking only two young witches to massage his shoulders and legs. The old wizard laughed on the spot. "Owen, it seems you are having a great time here!"