The next day.
When Count Dentis and Donna Lockhart reappeared at the Ministry of Magic, Fudge was already waiting for them.
"Count, you've arrived!"
He turned to the Auror responsible for escorting them behind him,
"Let's go to the temporary holding cell and let the prisoner see his wife one last time before you take him to Azkaban."
"Yes, Minister."
The group descended to the temporary prison.
Lockhart's condition seemed worse than before; he looked like he'd lost his soul.
Seeing everyone enter, he simply opened his mouth but couldn't utter a word.
Donna felt extremely sorry for him—being detained in the Ministry of Magic had already made him so haggard; what would happen if he were imprisoned in Azkaban?
Count Dentis suddenly spoke up:
"Minister, I think we should let the couple have a final conversation.
Perhaps they'd like a last moment of intimacy—anyway, there's an Anti-Apparition Jinx here, so there's no fear of them escaping."
Fudge pretended to be troubled,
"Count, I'm afraid that's not appropriate, is it?"
The Count smiled and said:
"The law must be respected, but people have feelings.
Lockhart is my friend, and I must fulfill my duty as a friend—"
He took out two small pouches of money and placed them in the hands of the Aurors,
"I don't think this harmless little exception would cause any adverse effects, would it?"
The two Aurors were extremely nervous; they looked at the Minister but found him observing the rust on the temporary prison cell door with great interest.
"This cell door is quite old; I think it should be replaced."
The Count nodded:
"Indeed, once the Ministry of Magic Development Foundation is established, the Minister can do whatever he wants.
Even if it's made of Manteau metal, that's perfectly acceptable."
The two Aurors exchanged glances and immediately understood everything.
Their supreme leader was on the Count's side, so what could they say?
"Minister,"
one of the Aurors said,
"We have a tradition of allowing prisoners a final meeting with their relatives.
I don't think it counts as a violation."
"Oh? Is that so?"
The Minister's attention finally shifted from the rusty iron door.
"I really don't know much about prison matters.
In that case, let's let Mrs. Lockhart go in and accompany Mr. Lockhart.
Oh, right, let's step aside for a moment; otherwise, they might be embarrassed."
Ten minutes later, Fudge, the Count, and the Aurors returned to the cell.
"Lockhart" still looked half-dead, while "Mrs. Lockhart" leaned against the wall, seemingly too grief-stricken to stand.
"Alright, time's up,"
Fudge said,
"It's time to send Mr. Lockhart to Azkaban."
As the cell door opened, Count Dentis rushed forward to support "Mrs. Lockhart."
"Everyone, Mrs. Lockhart doesn't seem to be in good shape, so I'll take her back first."
"As you wish, Count,"
the Minister "mournfully" shook his head,
"This is truly a human tragedy, but who told Mr. Lockhart to commit a crime?"
Count Dentis agreed:
"Yes, justice cannot be desecrated.
If you do evil, you should naturally be punished, even if he's my friend, he can't escape retribution."
Saying his farewells, the Count led "Mrs. Lockhart" out of the Ministry of Magic.
Midnight.
Azkaban welcomed its most difficult night.
A gate suddenly appeared in Dana's old cell, startling the cell's new occupant.
This person was a smuggler, imprisoned for planning multiple smuggling operations involving XXXX-level rare magical creatures.
He covered his mouth, trying to restrain his excitement, and ran toward the door like a madman.
—He didn't know what was behind the door, but could anything be worse than Azkaban?
However, a powerful Obliviate curse struck him, sending him flying.
The smuggler slid down the wall after hitting it, completely unconscious—when he woke up the next day, he would completely forget about the magical door.
A man in black robes walked through the door.
The man looked at the cell across the hall; Sirius Black seemed to be already asleep.
But the noise here made him suddenly open his eyes, but he couldn't see anything, only the faint sound of bat wings flapping in the darkness.
"Bats?"
Sirius muttered,
"How could there be bats in this place?
The little guy must be unlucky, getting lost all the way to Azkaban.
No, that's impossible; this island isn't close to Britain, so it must be an illusion."
Sirius closed his eyes again, but before that, he transformed into a large black dog—because he had just dreamed of James and Lily, and turning into a dog was only because he was afraid that the Dementors would smell the happy scent and come over.
The bat was naturally not an illusion.
Dana the Bat flew towards the top floor of Azkaban.
—Azkaban was far from full; for ease of management, prisoners were housed from bottom to top, filling in the gaps as needed.
Therefore, there were almost no prisoners on the top floor.
Fudge was really helpful; to prevent people from discovering that the person imprisoned was not Gilderoy Lockhart, he used his influence to place Donna's cell on the top floor—
The reason was "the great writer needs a quieter place, so that he might even write a book in prison; the new book might be called 'Sleeping with Dementors in Azkaban.'"
And there was another benefit to setting the cell on the top floor: it was five or six floors away from the occupied floors, so even if Donna screamed her head off, the people below wouldn't hear her.
Dana the Bat flew directly to Donna's cell.
The woman was wearing Lockhart's already filthy purple robes, cowering and shivering in the corner of the cell.
"Darling, darling… I regret it… Can you switch me back? I still have a child in my belly!"
Donna muttered to herself; being locked up for just an afternoon had almost broken her down—when had the eldest daughter of the Avery family ever suffered like this?
She had severely underestimated the horror of Azkaban.
"No, no, I must endure it.
As long as I get through this month, I can live a good life with my dear Gilderoy… without the Ministry of Magic, without John Flint, without anyone who wants to harm us…"
"Are… you… summoning… me…?"
A chilling voice sounded, and Donna shuddered.
Then, following the sound, she saw John Flint's corpse standing in her cell.
His skin was pale and covered in corpse spots.
Donna: … …
After two seconds of silence, Donna let out a heart-wrenching scream.
"Ah— — — — — — —!"
No one in Azkaban could hear her; in the nearest cell, the prisoners would only assume that the faint cries were the howls of the sea wind passing through the castle's archways.
Donna was certain that the walking corpse in front of her was John Flint!
Because the corpse was missing an arm—the missing arm had been sent to her during Dana Emrys's Quaffle fan revenge incident and was eventually burned by her.
John's corpse slowly walked towards Donna, making a "hoarse" sound, saliva dripping from his yellowed teeth.
"No, no…"
Donna wanted to embed herself in the corner of the wall.
She shouted:
"Don't come over— — —!"
Dana quietly watched everything happening in the cell from outside.
Donna Avery, my revenge has only just begun; suffer slowly!
John Flint's corpse had been made into an Inferius by him, and his command to it was to stick to Donna Avery at all times!
Dementors, Inferi, a cold cell.
Donna Avery, enjoy yourself here for a month.
I'll come again in a month, and when you're full of hope, I'll kick you into the abyss called despair—
Donna Avery, are you looking forward to the gift I'll bring you then?
Your misery is my ecstasy.
Dana could hardly restrain the joy that surged from the depths of his heart; he radiated happiness without reservation until the Dementors were attracted by this delicious treat and flocked to him.
Come on, come on!
Come quickly!
Donna Avery, since you've entered Azkaban, how can you not experience the Dementors' enthusiasm?
Arrangement!
I must arrange it for you!
End of the Chapter.
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