Chapter 161: Touring Azkaban
Bai Mo Shui Tavern, second floor.
The exquisite wine cabinet is basically placed against the wall, made of mahogany, with a relatively soft color under the gentle candlelight, fine texture, filled with various wine bottles, some brewed by wizards, some rare collections purchased from the Muggle World.
Neatly dressed waiters occasionally pass by, holding silver trays, with swift footsteps, not spilling a drop of the liquid inside.
Melvin casually picked up a glass, this time wine, with a rich aroma.
“Visiting Azkaban?” Madam Bones was very surprised.
Melvin nodded, his face bearing a perfectly measured smile, showing no abnormality: “I’ve been researching a topic lately, about the similarities and differences of prisons around the world. I’ve visited many Muggle prisons before, but I’ve only seen the holding cell in Wizard prison at Woolworth’s. Britain’s Azkaban is very special, using Dementors as guards, the only case in the world. I want to see it up close.”
“Azkaban is a place to hold wizard criminals. Besides Dark Wizards who committed serious crimes, it’s filled with detestable Dementors. It’s not some travel scenic spot, Professor Levent.” Madam Bones said bluntly.
“Appropriate academic research helps discover vulnerabilities and perfect flaws.”
“You think Azkaban has flaws, backward places compared to Muggle prisons, is that it?” Madam Bones glanced at the young professor beside her, her gaze somewhat meaningful.
Melvin’s current demeanor was somewhat like Belby’s, like an old scholar immersed in academia: “Madam Bones, whether Azkaban is backward or advanced, it’s not perfect. Visiting and researching for comparison is to discover shortcomings and improve them. Don’t you think so?”
Madam Bones showed a thoughtful expression and fell silent.
Levent, as a Hogwarts professor, though he had criticized the Ministry of Magic in the past two years, and the Magic Mirror Club he established had some suspicious aspects, repeatedly angering Fudge, this young professor was not some evil Dark Wizard or power-hungry schemer.
Dumbledore and Marchbanks and other old wizards could vouch for him, as could the Second Class Medal on his chest.
The Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement was not worried about any ill intentions from this young professor. She was only hesitating whether Azkaban’s true face should be revealed to the public.
Azkaban is not completely sealed off. Besides the staff on rotation duty, prisoner relatives can also apply for visits. For centuries, it has maintained a record of zero escapes, never making a mistake.
In the eyes of those in power and the broad wizard populace, it is a qualified prison, but only a very few wizards know the truth buried on this isolated island.
Azkaban’s existence is very special. The Ministry of Magic set the Dementors’ habitat as a prison, both to imprison criminals and to use the criminals as bait to attract Dementors, preventing these eerie creatures from harming other places.
The final fate of those prisoners inside is all losing their sanity, going mad and insane. There’s even a cemetery set up inside, specifically for burying those who die of depression.
Should such a prison be known to the public?
Should changes be made?
Amidst her wandering thoughts, Madam Bones had made her decision. She looked up into the young professor’s eyes, his dark pupils as deep as the night sky:
“Next week. After the holiday staff return to their posts, I’ll arrange a guide to take you on the tour.”
Melvin was delighted inside: “Thank you very much.”
He didn’t know what this high-ranking Law Enforcement official was thinking. Proposing to visit Azkaban was a spur-of-the-moment idea. Besides satisfying his own curiosity, the main purpose was to send Little Star Peter inside. He was still waiting for Bellatrix’s vault key.
“I have a request.” Madam Bones said with a smile, “After the thesis is written, I hope the professor won’t rush to publish it. Can you let me see it first?”
“My honor.”
The young professor’s cooperation relieved Madam Bones. Listening to the dance music starting again below, her gaze lingered on the obese Minister, wearing an eye-catching purple robe, fat bulging the sleeves, belly straining the abdominal buttons, his clumsy appearance like a fat pig.
Yet he didn’t care at all about his ugliness, pestering the Greengrass family witch to waltz, showing off his green-ribboned First Class Medal, with a brilliant smile.
“Would you feel ashamed?” Madam Bones pointed at the young professor’s Second Class Medal.
Melvin was stunned for a moment, then realized what she was asking, shaking his head: “A medal is just a mark; it doesn’t represent anything in itself.”
“You’re right. The medal doesn’t represent anything; it’s Merlin, Acturus, Dumbledore, and you outstanding wizards who give the medal its glory.”
Madam Bones nodded, looking at the Minister shaking his big belly on the dance floor, and said softly: “Umbridge has submitted a new 《Anti-Werewolf Bill》 to the Wizengamot. There will be a vote after the Christmas Holiday. They say they’ve secured votes from many neutral members. It will soon be issued publicly, and Umbridge will be promoted to Senior Deputy Minister through this bill.”
“No wonder Minister Fudge is so happy.”
Melvin knew this meant the political situation in the Ministry of Magic would change. Fudge’s power would be strengthened, allowing him to completely escape the constraints of Dumbledore and Bones, take real power, and become a true Minister with authority.
Melvin took a sip of wine and tsked: “I convinced Mrs. Ekko. We’re preparing to submit an application after the holiday, to use the Floo Network to connect Projection Mirrors and transmit image signals. Do you think Minister Fudge will approve?”
“Will your name or Dumbledore’s appear on the application?”
“Probably.”
“Then expect it to be rejected.”
……
The wind and snow in the Scottish Highlands never stopped, howling until the New Year.
Students’ holidays are always the longest. Hogwarts Express Train hasn’t returned to school yet, but all departments in the Ministry of Magic have resumed work. Male and female wizards with lifeless expressions return to their posts and begin handling the backlog of holiday affairs.
Cornelius Fudge, rested for two weeks, also returned to his Minister’s Office to review official documents submitted by various departments.
「Department of Magical Law Enforcement: Willy Widdershins cast a spell on a Muggle toilet again, making the toilet bite a Muggle’s buttocks into seven pieces. Muggle transferred to St Mungo’s, Memory Erasing Team dispatched to handle… Proposed sentence: three months imprisonment, awaiting approval.」
Attached were some picture documents, one being a close-up of the Muggle’s buttocks. The wizard government doesn’t bother with mosaics; close-up is close-up, clear contours, vivid colors, and the photo had Developing Potion added, making it moving.
A fat, white lump of flesh, bloody, mixed with flowing yellow unidentified substance.
Fudge’s buttocks tightened, feeling deep malice. He viciously picked up the quill and approved below:
「Change to half a year!」
Changing three months to half a year, then to a year, Fudge felt slightly better. He picked up the teacup to catch his breath, but seeing the slightly yellowed tea, he associated it with something, and his stomach churned again.
Looking at the thick two stacks of documents awaiting processing, Fudge felt somewhat distressed.
The Ministry of Magic’s power was consolidating, but the taste of power wasn’t all good.
“It’ll be better after a while. Once Dolores is promoted, these things can be handed to her…”
Fudge sighed resignedly and began reviewing the documents one by one.
Fortunately, Widdershins’s case was rare. Other documents were mostly normal. Though reviewing them was tedious, it didn’t cause strong discomfort. Other departments’ proposals were basically fine; he didn’t need to think hard, not very taxing.
Scribbling away, the taste of power became sweet again.
Near noon dismissal, a document from the Department of Magical Transportation caught his attention.
「Floo Network Office: To develop the potential of family Projection Mirrors and fully utilize the transportation resource advantages of the Floo Network, our department, after in-depth research and analysis with the Magic Mirror Club, proposes a plan to deeply integrate the Floo Network with small Projection Mirrors, aiming to…」
Mrs. Ekko is a practical official. Though the official document’s wording is convoluted, it’s very clear in structure: strategy plans, technical points, and pilot area contents all laid out plainly. Fudge was once a mid-level official and understood the potential of this application.
But Melvin Levent’s name was even more conspicuous.
With almost no hesitation, Fudge rejected the application, citing inability to ensure safety.
……
At the same time, downstairs from the Minister’s Office, Melvin stood in front of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement’s fireplace, tossed a handful of green powder into the flames, making the fire roar, green flames leaping out to lick the marble wall.
“Azkaban…”
As the suddenly surging flames engulfed his figure, Melvin disappeared from the room.
Melvin emerged from the old, cold fireplace, brushed off the soot from his body, touched the position of his outer coat pocket, and looked up to see the young witch waiting outside.
Wearing standard Auror wizard robes, pacing boredly back and forth, cheeks moving constantly, seemingly chewing gum. Hearing the sound, she turned back, revealing a heart-shaped pretty face, and called out in surprise:
“Professor Levent?”
Perhaps due to the cold temperature, the witch’s skin was slightly pale, but her bright purple eyes and thick, fluffy pink curly hair brought the scene to life.
“Nymphadora Tonks?” Melvin was somewhat uncertain.
“That’s right. Call me Tonks. Madam Bones told you, right? I’m your guide for this prison trip…” Tonks spoke quickly, chattering away, clashing with this remote island.
Melvin smiled without speaking, neither confirming nor denying: “As far as I know, you’re an Auror. How are you at Azkaban?”
“All Mad-Eye’s fault! I passed the exam, rotation ended, but he insisted I hadn’t encountered real Dark Wizards and made me come to the prison to interact with them. So annoying!”
Tonks was a qualified Auror. Amid complaints, she still fulfilled her duty: “Professor, follow me closely. Don’t stray too far; running into Dementors would be trouble.”
This was an office for wizards to stay in. Outside was a crude corridor, with dirty kerosene lamps on the walls, dim but stable light.
This island doesn’t use torches; too much moisture, hard to manage firewood, howling sea winds, occasional storms. Torches aren’t as convenient as oil lamps and candles.
Tonks walked ahead, leading him outside, encountering no one along the way.
“Though there are patrols on the island, there are very few people, not permanent residents. No one wants to stay here—cold, damp, and annoying Dementors. Stay too long and you go mad. The prisoners are tortured beyond recognition, no energy to escape. I have two weeks left; hope I never come back here…”
Tonks introduced while watching the path, acting familiar.
Crossing the corridor and pushing open a door, outside were barren, jagged rocks, uneven terrain, cliff edges with towering precipices, surging waves constantly crashing. Farther out were low clouds and mist; even the howling wind felt oppressive.
Looking back, the building they were in was a fortress.
“The cliffside fortress has been renovated several times. Originally built by a Dark Wizard named Extis, extremely powerful in magic. He locked himself here to study Dark Magic, went mad, became mentally deranged, obsessed with luring, torturing, and killing Muggle sailors passing by.
“The Ministry of Magic didn’t discover it at first. After his death, the concealment charms failed, Dementors appeared nearby. Aurors followed the clues, found this island, fortress, and over a thousand Dementors.”
Melvin looked up at the island’s sky: thick, gloomy low clouds, indistinct things floating within, like dark clouds or black birds.
Ominous magic enveloped it, permeated with cold and despair.
“You know about Dementors, right?”
Tonks chattered on: “Every wall of the castle is filled with Muggle corpses. They suffered unimaginable torment in life. Experts aren’t sure if such pain birthed the Dementors or if Dementors were attracted by the pain. Anyway, anyone damaging the structure will be attacked by Dementors…”
Melvin listened quietly, surveying the surroundings, recalling materials about this prison.
Azkaban is in the North Sea. Before the 15th century, it never appeared on any maps. After the Ministry of Magic discovered it, they marked it as an uninhabitable uninhabited island and abandoned it for many years.
Until the International Confederation of Wizards issued the Secrecy Law, Britain’s wizard criminal numbers surged. Small prisons scattered around were often broken into. The Ministry of Magic began planning a dedicated wizard prison.
The remote island fit their needs. Initial intent was the Hebrides, but then-Minister Edric Digory noticed Azkaban.
“The prison is divided into areas for different crimes. The fortress is at the island’s center, with the most Dementors gathered here. Prisoners inside suffer the most, so they’re the heaviest sentenced: Dark Wizards, Death Eaters, murderers, etc…”
Tonks felt those people deserved it.
Melvin pondered briefly: “Why not take me to see those heavy offenders first?”
“They were just tormented by Dementors, collapsed in cells, delirious. Need two hours to recover. I’ll take you to the light offenders first, come back later.”
Tonks paused, waved her hand: “Actually, nothing much to see. You’ll know soon.”
Melvin followed beside, listening to the witch’s introductions, occasionally asking questions.
While crossing a bumpy section, he discreetly adjusted his outer coat pocket, tucking a rat tail back inside.
