Edward and Audrey were momentarily stunned.
Crouch Sr. slumped helplessly into his chair.
"It was when I got home from work…he suddenly broke free of my control and…and attacked me," he said hoarsely. "I tried to subdue him, but accidentally knocked him down the stairs."
"I thought he would take the opportunity to escape. But when I ran down after him, I found him already dead from the fall."
Edward paused to think. "When did this happen?"
"Almost two months ago."
Two months?
That would have been during the last time they had returned here.
"Are you certain he suddenly broke free when you came home? Or had he already broken free and was merely waiting to ambush you?"
Crouch Sr. was taken aback.
"You see, there's a big difference between the two," Edward continued calmly. "If it was sudden, then it might have been an accident. But if it was premeditated…with Barty Jr.'s temperament, he'd never risk a direct confrontation. He would have waited in the shadows and delivered a fatal surprise, not been blasted out by a spell."
Crouch furrowed his brow in deep thought.
"Are you absolutely sure he's dead?" Edward asked again. "Is it possible he used the same trick he did back in Azkaban?"
"...Impossible. Absolutely impossible."
Audrey's voice seemed to carry an enchantment. "Well then, why don't we confirm it for ourselves?"
Crouch Sr. stood there in a daze before stumbling to his feet and rushing outside, not even bothering to grab a coat. He ran straight into the snow-covered yard, cast a spell to blow away the snow, then used a gouging spell to dig out a grave.
There lay a corpse—frozen stiff, yet showing no signs of decay.
It had Barty Jr.'s appearance. His body was twisted at an unnatural angle, and his face was contorted in a mask of terror in his final moments.
Crouch Sr. finally snapped out of the psychological illusion he had convinced himself of. He stared at the corpse in a trance, his body trembling—whether from the cold, or from fear and rage, even he didn't know.
"Revelio."
Edward waved his wand, and the corpse within the grave rapidly transformed, revealing the face of a middle-aged man.
"It…it really wasn't him…"
Crouch staggered back a few steps and muttered, "So I didn't kill him with my own hands…So he escaped long ago."
"Not only did he escape," Edward said coldly, "but he's working for Voldemort again. You must've heard about the Dark Mark that appeared over Hogwarts yesterday. That might've had something to do with him."
He tried to use necromancy to contact the soul, but as expected, the spirit had long since dissipated.
Crouch Sr. stood there in silence for a long while before speaking in a low, rough voice, "I…I'll notify the Ministry."
"Fudge will throw you into Azkaban without hesitation," Edward interrupted, "then put on a grand show of sending out a few Aurors and Dementors to pursue Barty. More likely, he'll pretend nothing happened. After all, you committed these crimes under his administration—he wouldn't want any blemishes on his record before the election."
"..."
A bitter smile slowly crept onto Crouch's lips. "Then I'll go to Dumbledore."
Edward shot Audrey a knowing look, smiling. "Your mind does work fast, doesn't it?"
He gave a short wave. "Well then, goodbye, Mr. Crouch."
With that, the two turned to leave.
Crouch stared in confusion. "You…you really only came to find Barty?"
"What else would we want?" Edward replied casually. "You're the head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation—a position with no real power. No one's scheming to get anything from you."
"Oh, right. We'll be borrowing your house-elf for a while."
"What?"
Crack.
With a sharp pop, the two figures vanished, leaving Crouch Sr. standing dumbfounded in the snow-covered yard, muttering under his breath, "Yes…tell Dumbledore. Once he defeats Fudge and becomes the new Minister…maybe he'll appreciate my contribution…maybe he'll reinstate me to a meaningful post…even if I have to start from the bottom again, I'm confident I can climb back up…yes, yes, tell Dumbledore…"
——
Elsewhere—
Edward and Audrey apparated into an abandoned building nearby, and reverted the small stick in his hand back into the house-elf, Winky.
"No apparition allowed here," Edward muttered.
Sure enough, Winky immediately tried to Disapparate upon regaining her form, only to fail.
She let out a high-pitched shriek, "Winky will never betray her master! You'll never get a word from Winky!"
"We don't want to hurt your master, Winky," Audrey said gently. "We need your help to get to Azkaban. Your young master might be there—we're going to rescue him."
"Lies! Lies! All lies!"
Winky's voice grew shriller, her huge eyes bulging even more with fury.
"Winky will never betray Master! Let Winky go home!"
She glared furiously at Audrey while picking up anything she could find to throw at her.
Just then, Lilith emerged from Edward's pocket dimension, rubbing her ears irritably.
"Edward, she's so loud," she grumbled.
"Imperio."
Edward cast the Imperius Curse on her, and at last, the room fell silent.
Audrey sighed. "Mental suggestion doesn't work on her at all."
"Mm. That's why I've always suspected that the deep-rooted servility in house-elves might be the result of some kind of ancient and powerful magic—or a curse."
"Alright, Winky. Apparate us to the nearest safe location to Azkaban."
A cheerful smile suddenly bloomed across Winky's face. "Yes, sir!"
Edward held Lilith in one arm, grabbed Audrey's small hand with the other, and placed both on Winky's shoulder.
Pop.
In the next second, they arrived in pitch darkness. The roar of waves surged in their ears as an icy sea wind howled against their faces, sending a shiver through the two humans and one cat alike.
Lilith immediately burrowed into Edward's arms without hesitation.
Soon, their eyes adjusted to the darkness.
They were standing on a massive rock formation by the edge of a desolate island. Darkness engulfed them in every direction, but if one looked carefully, a faint light could be seen flickering in the distance toward the southwest.
"That's Azkaban, isn't it?"
"It is."
"How did you get there last time?"
"My master had contacted the Azkaban Enforcers in advance. They came by boat to pick us up, because nothing—aside from Dementors—can fly near Azkaban. Apparating directly in would trigger the alarms."
"Thank you for your answer. Obliviate."
After erasing Winky's memory, Edward let her return on her own.
"What do we do now, Edward?" Audrey asked.
"Simple…we charge straight in!"
"…What?"
Edward grinned. "Here's the deal. Azkaban is divided into two sections—outer and inner. The outer section holds ordinary prisoners. As for the truly heinous ones, like the Death Eaters, they're locked deep inside."
"The Enforcers mostly operate in the outer section, guarding the regular inmates. The inner section is guarded solely by Dementors, because only there can they truly 'kiss' the prisoners and feed off their joy."
"Dementors may be blind, but they have an extraordinarily keen sense of smell—not for physical scents, but for things like health, illness, and especially emotions. That means even an Invisibility Cloak won't hide you from them."
"A few nautical miles from Azkaban, there's a lighthouse island. That's where the off-duty Hit Wizards and Enforcers stay. If anything happens at Azkaban, they're the first to rush in. Altogether, there are about thirty of them. Not a large number, but combined with the island's surveillance and restrictive magic, it's more than enough to detect any intruder immediately—then let the Dementors take care of the rest."
Edward closed his notebook. "That's everything I've dug up in my prior research on Azkaban."
Audrey looked puzzled. "So…?"
"So even if we had some silent and stealthy way to sneak in, it would be overly complicated. Besides, we're not infiltrating for a heist—we're there to treat prisoners' psychological trauma. Even if we did sneak in, we'd be discovered sooner or later. So, we might as well go loud from the start!"
Audrey gave him a strange look. "You could've just skipped straight to the conclusion."
"Er…sorry. I was trying to get into the mindset of being a mentor. Got carried away."
"Oh~ So you're really enjoying the role of 'Professor,' huh, Professor Edward~?"
Edward crossed his arms. "Miss Hall, how dare you be so disrespectful to your teacher? Detention after class!"
"…"
She rolled her eyes.
——
Azkaban's full name was technically Azkaban Castle.
Because this prison was, in fact, a heavily fortified medieval fortress—not a home for nobles, but for convicts. The guards weren't knights, but Dementors.
"Bloody hell, it's getting colder every day."
Two patrolling Enforcers circled the fortress, grumbling as they walked.
Of course, calling it a patrol was generous—it was really just a brisk lap around the castle. No one actually believed anyone would dare stir up trouble here, but rules were rules.
"Hurry up, I'm freezing my arse off. Can't wait to get back inside."
"Don't forget, you promised to deliver that newspaper to Sirius Black later. If you don't, he's gonna kick up a fuss again."
"Let him rot! He's just a prisoner waiting to die. Still whining about newspapers like he's the heir to the noble House of Black."
"Hey, if you won't do it, I will. Everyone knows you've been making a tidy profit off him for years."
"Profit? More like danger pay! Every delivery's a gamble with those Dementors. And most of the gold ends up being 'donated' to our superiors!" He grumbled darkly, "They promised to transfer me to the Auror Office three years ago—still haven't heard a damn thing. Bloody bastards."
He stopped walking and stared toward the distant lighthouse island.
"They're the ones living the easy life over there, raking in the real Galleons. We're the ones doing the dirty work, taking the risks, and catching the blame. Someday, those bastards are going to get what's coming to them!"
BOOM!
Suddenly, a burst of fire exploded above the distant island, painting the night sky red.
Both men froze, staring blankly in shock.
"No way…Is that…karma?"
———
[Note]: Don't forget to VOTE. It keeps me motivated.