In the Harry Potter world, on a remote island in the North Sea, amid biting wind and darkness, an ancient fortress rose up, lit by dim, sickly-yellow lights — like some enormous monster lurking in the pitch-black night.
This was the place every wizard in Britain spoke of with dread: Azkaban Prison.
The building had been constructed in the fifteenth century, originally the stronghold of the dark wizard Ekrizdis, before the Ministry of Magic's first minister converted it into a prison, stationing dementors as its primary guards, with Hit Wizards from the Ministry mostly serving a supporting, coordinating role.
Deep in the quiet night, the sea wind howled outside, while inside Azkaban, magical wards kept the air warm — almost drowsily so. But a group of Hit Wizards were currently eyeing a nearby office, their expressions complicated.
Just an hour earlier, the Ministry had abruptly parachuted in a new "Captain" to take charge of Azkaban's Hit Wizards, catching absolutely everyone off guard.
They'd all spent years — some of them decades — stuck in this godforsaken place, keeping the dementors company, all in hopes that one day they'd finally be transferred out of Azkaban, out of this misery.
And becoming the Hit Wizard Captain had always been the first step toward that. In years past, the Ministry made the appointment, sure, but the candidate always came from among their own ranks.
This year, someone had been dropped straight in from outside. It was safe to say this new "Captain" had already made enemies of every Hit Wizard here before even starting the job properly.
No one said it out loud, but through a few shared glances, they'd all quietly agreed: they'd protest through "non-violent non-cooperation," and hopefully manage to drive out whichever pure-blood family's favor this obvious nepotism hire had been.
The new arrival, though, hadn't done much since getting to Azkaban besides request the prisoner roster and then stay holed up in the office, working on something no one could guess.
Clack.
The office door swung open, and Bernadette walked out in a full suit. "Who's giving me a tour?"
The dozen or so Hit Wizards present exchanged glances, saying nothing — clearly none of them wanted the job.
Bernadette nodded, pointing at random to the one standing closest to the front. "You'll do. Let's go."
Without giving him a chance to protest, she turned and headed straight toward the section holding the prisoners, and the singled-out Hit Wizard, after a moment's hesitation, followed after her.
Azkaban's prison was split into two sections, inner and outer. The outer section held minor offenders serving light sentences, while the inner section held serious criminals — dark wizards, Death Eaters, that sort.
The biggest difference between the two was how much "latitude" the dementors were given: in the inner section, dementors were free to feed on happiness without restraint — as long as it didn't kill the prisoner outright, they could feed as hard as they wanted.
Sirius Black, naturally, was held in the deepest part of the inner section.
A few minutes later, the Hit Wizard led Bernadette to the entrance of the inner prison and cleared his throat. "So, uh..."
"Charles."
"Right, Mr. Charles — past this point, it's dementor territory. The Ministry does have an agreement with their leader that they won't attack Hit Wizards, but... they don't always honor that, especially with new faces like you."
Bernadette gave a small nod. "It's fine. I know the Patronus Charm."
In the modern wizarding world, the Patronus Charm was essentially the "specialized counter" to dementors, and could also be used to send messages remotely. But in reality, it was a spell that not even every Auror at the Ministry could reliably cast.
For most wizards, the time spent mastering it would be better spent on something like a proper defensive shield charm — dark wizards could show up any time, but a wizard might go a whole lifetime without ever encountering a dementor.
"But..."
The Hit Wizard was about to warn her about just how many dementors were inside — casting the Patronus Charm alone wouldn't hold out for long. Then he thought better of it: why bother warning him at all? Maybe a couple of dementor "kisses" would scare him off on his own.
As the two of them made their way through the dark corridor into the inner prison, a foul stench hit them.
The inside of Azkaban really was without a single ray of light. Every prisoner here was locked in a cramped, individual cell, given only whatever scraps were left over from the outer prisoners' meals — just enough to keep them from starving to death.
Once locked up here, prisoners never came back out — not until they died. Everything — eating, drinking, sleeping, all of it — had to happen in that cell, with no cleaning for over a decade straight. It wasn't hard to picture what the place actually looked like inside.
The moment they stepped out of the long corridor, over a dozen dementors drifted down. They seemed to hesitate a moment at the sight of the Hit Wizard, then turned their attention to Bernadette.
"Expecto Patronum!"
Before they could do anything more, Bernadette flicked her wand, and a streak of silver light burst from its tip, taking the form of a palm-sized lizard.
It had no wings, and yet it floated in midair, radiating a silvery-white glow as it flew straight at the dementors.
The dozen-odd dementors reacted as if they'd just seen the most terrifying thing imaginable, shrieking silently as they scattered in every direction and vanished.
"..."
Bernadette watched the silver lizard racing through the air, her expression blank, a hint of gloom settling over her. After learning she'd be coming to Azkaban to "get some experience," she'd spent two whole days rushing to learn the Patronus Charm.
According to wizarding lore, a Patronus's form was a true reflection of the caster's own soul. So why... was hers a lizard?
If a Patronus's form really matched an Animagus form, that meant... if she learned to become an Animagus, she'd turn into a lizard too?
That thought instantly killed off the budding interest in becoming an Animagus she'd had recently.
This had to be Vincent's fault.
His Patronus was a lizard, so of course, once she learned the spell, hers came out as one too.
Bernadette kept the Patronus Charm running, letting the silver lizard race and spin around her through the air until it had driven off every last dementor, then let it fade away.
"Where are the Death Eaters kept?"
The Hit Wizard flinched instinctively, pointing into the darkness ahead. "They're held in the deepest section."
"Take me there."
"...Right."
The Hit Wizard steeled himself and started forward, privately trying to guess which Death Eater this "connected hire" might be related to. Damn pure-blood families.
"Tell me who's locked up in there."
"Selwyn, Rowle, Avery, Travers, Yaxley, Bella, Sirius Black..."
The Hit Wizard rattled off more than twenty names in one breath, most of them belonging to families from the so-called Sacred Twenty-Eight. Three of the names stood out to Bernadette as familiar.
One was Rowle — she was fairly sure the man named Thorfinn she'd killed earlier shared that surname. One was Bella — Voldemort's horcrux made from the Hufflepuff Cup was hidden in her family's Gringotts vault. And more importantly, it had been Death Eaters led by Bella who'd killed Vincent's parents — he'd also suffered through their Cruciatus Curse.
The last name was Sirius Black — the whole reason for this trip to Azkaban.
To be continued…
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