When Lucius Malfoy stepped into the fortress, he realized the interior was even more vast than he had imagined. And yet, it was steeped in a deathly silence that made him profoundly uneasy.
Inside the ancient stronghold, set at intervals along the walls, were iron doors fitted with small windows. Many of them looked so fragile they seemed ready to collapse at any moment. Noticing this, Lucius couldn't help but ask, his voice tinged with doubt:
"Can doors like these truly hold back the kind of depraved criminals locked up here? These are powerful Dark wizards!"
Blu, his guide, replied flatly, without a flicker of emotion.
"Perhaps many of the prisoners did think about escape when they first arrived in Azkaban. But before they could ever act on it, the Dementors reminded them, very quickly, who's really in charge here."
"In fact, the Dementors almost want someone to try escaping. The moment a prisoner still harbors hope... well, that's their favorite kind of meal."
"The truth is, for most inmates, any window of opportunity lasts less than a week. Within days, many are reduced to nothing more than hollow husks. Like this one."
As he spoke, Blu gestured toward a nearby iron door.
Curious, Lucius stepped closer and peered through the tiny window. Inside, slumped against the stone wall, was a prisoner, hair matted and unkempt, face obscured. From the posture, it seemed the man was staring blankly at the ceiling.
His expression hidden beneath tangled strands, the prisoner's features remained a mystery.
But perhaps stirred by the sound outside, the prisoner slowly turned his head. His eyes met Lucius's.
In them, Lucius saw... nothing. No anger, no sorrow, no recognition. Only an abyssal void. The sheer emptiness in those eyes made Lucius recoil in silent horror.
He stumbled back two steps before regaining his composure.
The two men pressed onward, deeper into the fortress. The air grew colder, heavier. Suddenly, Blu grabbed Lucius by the arm. Startled, Lucius glanced over.
Blu shook his head slightly, signaling him to remain silent.
Following Blu's gaze, Lucius spotted two Dementors gliding toward them, their dark cloaks billowing ever so slightly, though no wind stirred the air.
His heart leapt into his throat.
Thankfully, the Dementors halted midway. One of them reached out with a skeletal hand and unlatched the door to a nearby cell. Then, without a sound, both creatures floated inside.
Only once the last edge of a cloak vanished into the cell did Lucius and Blu release the breaths they hadn't realized they'd been holding.
Leaning close, Blu whispered into Lucius's ear, "They're probably feeding. I'd recommend we take another path, unless you'd rather they decide to make us their dessert."
Lucius nodded fervently.
Together, they quickened their pace, retreating down a side corridor far away from the feasting Dementors.
But soon after, they heard an odd, unsettling noise echoing from further ahead. A strange, rhythmic sound that didn't quite belong in the silence of Azkaban.
Lucius furrowed his brow, puzzled. It was the first actual noise he'd heard from a prisoner since entering the fortress.
Blu offered an explanation.
"This section holds the Death Eaters, those who once served Voldemort. These twisted wretches were already insane before they arrived, filled with malice and obsession. Dementors rarely bother with them; there's nothing left to feed on."
Hearing this, Lucius's eyes lit up. He said, almost cheerfully, "Oh, really? Then I must have a look. I've always wondered, after all this time, how are they not completely mad already?"
Following the direction of the sound, Lucius and Blu arrived at a cell. Through the grimy window, Lucius spotted a witch with straw-like hair slamming her forehead into the stone wall, muttering incoherently under her breath.
Their footsteps must have reached her ears, for she suddenly froze, resting her forehead against the wall, unmoving.
Something about her felt eerily familiar.
Compelled, Lucius stepped closer, squinting through the window, trying to get a better look.
In a flash, the witch snapped her head toward him. Her bloodshot eyes blazed with fury as she lunged toward the door, clawing through the bars with outstretched hands, aiming for Lucius's face.
Blu yanked him back just in time. Her fingernails scratched against the iron instead of skin.
Lucius's breath caught. At last, recognition dawned.
It was Bellatrix Lestrange, his old comrade from the days of the Death Eaters.
In a hushed curse, Lucius muttered, "That lunatic… How is she still alive?"
Inside the cell, Bellatrix let out a shriek of frustration and launched into a frenzied tirade:
"I will get out! The Dark Lord will come for us, he will! And when he does, you'll all pay! No… no, not pay with death... hee-hee-hee... death would be too kind!"
"I'll make you suffer. I'll return everything you did to me, tenfold!"
"Just you wait! That day is coming, I can feel it in my bones. The Dark Lord... is almost here! Ha ha ha ha! I'll be free again soon!"
Her manic laughter echoed through the corridor.
Even Lucius, who had once stood beside her in battle, couldn't help but swallow hard. Doubt once more gnawed at his heart: Was this really the path he should have taken?
Beside him, Blu was visibly pale. With trembling lips, he said, "Mr. Malfoy... perhaps we should leave. Staying here too long can... affect the body."
Having gathered the information he came for, Lucius nodded in agreement.
Blu exhaled a breath of relief and turned to lead them back.
But no sooner had he turned than the tip of a wand pressed firmly into the back of his skull.
The unexpected turn of events froze him mid-step.
Inside the cell, Bellatrix went silent. Her raving ceased as she watched the unfolding scene through the narrow window, eyes gleaming with a wicked light.
The corridor fell into a tense, dreadful stillness.
——————————
Want to read the whole story? Head over to my Patreon ——— patreon(.)com/PrimalDemon [remove the parentheses ( )]
This fanfic has been fully translated!