North Sea waters.
In late winter, the frigid sea cruelly embraces a desolate island. This island is the last place wizards want to visit, and a paradise for Dementors.
No one can escape from here. No one.
Those who come here often go insane within weeks. Everything is drained by this terrible place—the spirit, health, and youth become allergic to it. People scream in their sleep. Under the influence of Dementors, they shout all sorts of things, go on hunger strikes, go mad, and eventually lose the will to live.
Most people who enter never leave. This place is the burial ground for countless prisoners' bones. Even if prisoners die tragically in this horrific prison, they receive no sympathy from the wizards—those imprisoned here are considered to be the most heinous criminals.
There might be one exception.
He was a haggard, dark-haired man with filthy, unruly hair that reached his elbows. His pale skin was taut on his cheekbones, and he was as thin as a skeleton. His gaze was vacant as he leaned against the prison wall like a corpse, oblivious to the screams and shouts of the prisoners next door, and ignoring the Ministry of Magic officials walking down the corridor.
"Sirius Black! You are exonerated." The Ministry of Magic official stopped in front of his cell and said in a gentle voice that he had not shown to him in over a decade, "We...we were probably mistaken. You are innocent. You are free."
Sirius Black showed no reaction, not even glancing at the other person, as if the whole thing had nothing to do with him.
"We have captured Peter Pettigrew, and he is on trial right now," the official said uneasily, looking him over. "He was hiding at Hogwarts and was caught by Harry Potter's friends. You must know Harry Potter, right?"
Sirius Black raised his eyes. A light shone from his deep-set black eyes.
"Potter," he hissed, like a clock that had stopped ticking being wound up again, "Harry Potter?"
"Thank Merlin for remembering. The Dementors have not completely destroyed you. Now the Minister can finally sleep soundly." The official looked at him with surprise and relief. He added in an even more enthusiastic tone, "That is your godson, is it not? Come with me, let us leave this place and start a new life..."
In late February, the arrest of Peter Pettigrew caused a huge uproar throughout the wizarding world.
Draco Malfoy did not look well that morning.
He had nightmares all night and woke up feeling depressed. Seeing Peter Pettigrew's image again a few days ago brought back painful memories: the tortures and murders the Dark Lord had carried out, sometimes in the dungeon, sometimes at the dinner table, all with Peter Pettigrew present.
Then, as he strolled into the Great Hall, he bumped into Charity Burbage, the Muggle Studies professor, at the door. He bowed to the cheerful-looking teacher, not daring to look up again, and only moved on, reluctantly, long after she had stepped inside.
He always remembered how Professor Burbage had been tortured in front of him and how she had died a gruesome death at his long table. All because she had written an article in the Daily Prophet defending Muggle-born wizards. All because she wanted pure-blood wizards to marry Muggle-born wizards, considering it a "welcome phenomenon."
He remembered how she floated above the long table, how tears streamed from her eyes and flowed into her hair. He remembered how she called out Professor Snape's name in a pleading voice, and how Professor Snape remained unmoved. He remembered how she was extinguished by a green light, crashing onto the table with a loud thud, making the table tremble and creak.
He remembered slipping from his seat and falling to the floor, unable to bear watching what was happening on the table, unable to bear watching how the giant snake devoured her corpse.
The creaking sound kept echoing in his ears. The sound made him realise his fear, cowardice, and weakness.
At that moment, he realised completely that there was no possibility between him and her.
Draco Malfoy, you can never take chances.
As long as the Dark Lord lives, you can never—
He walked past her in the aisle, glancing at her expressionlessly—she was drinking milk whilst intently flipping through a thick book—and felt a pang of sorrow in his heart.
He flicked his wand, cast a silent Occlumency spell, and sat in his usual seat at the Slytherin dining table, intending to have a casual breakfast.
He was a little late. Draco took out his pocket watch to check the time, confirming that he only had fifteen minutes to waste before heading to the greenhouse for his Herbology class. He took a sip of his coffee, sighed wearily, and suddenly felt a little uneasy.
Many eyes were inexplicably falling on him. The students in the Great Hall were all secretly observing him.
He swept his gaze around menacingly, trying to drive their attention away with his cold stare.
But it was no use. Those gazes only grew more intense.
"What is wrong with people?" he asked Blaise Zabini impatiently.
"This is not the time to put on a stern face. Tuck away your morning grumpiness and try to force a smile." Blaise said with a strange expression, suppressing a laugh. "You are the centre of attention right now, so you need to be mindful of your image and do Slytherin some respect."
"Should I take this as irony?" Draco glared at him fiercely.
Across the table, Pansy Parkinson could not help but grin foolishly, handing Draco a copy of the Daily Prophet: "Look!"
Draco took the newspaper and frowned. He saw on the cover a picture of Peter Pettigrew weeping and wailing behind bars in Azkaban. The headline read, "Peter Pettigrew Imprisoned, Sirius Black Exonerated."
"The Ministry of Magic acted swiftly," he said calmly. "But what does that have to do with me?"
Blaise abandoned his usual arrogance and considerately helped him open the newspaper. "Here, my hero, take a look at the second page."
Draco raised an eyebrow, glanced at Blaise, and saw that his expression did not seem fake; rather, it seemed quite genuine.
Why would a boy as arrogant as Blaise be so considerate to him? Had the sun risen in the west? A sense of curiosity arose within him, so he lowered his gaze and browsed the contents of the newspaper.
"...The Ministry of Magic has confirmed Sirius Black's innocence in this matter through Prior Incantato on a wand. Some Ministry officials believe that Bartemius Crouch (currently Director of the Department of International Magical Cooperation), who was Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement at the time, was too hasty in his verdict against Sirius Black as the presiding judge in this case... Draco Malfoy, a second-year Slytherin student, George Weasley, a fourth-year Gryffindor student, and Fred Weasley made outstanding contributions in the arrest of Peter Pettigrew, and the Ministry of Magic has decided to award the three of them the Order of Merlin, Second Class..."
Not surprising. In the wizarding world, the highest honour is receiving the Order of Merlin. He wondered if his father and mother would be proud of it... Draco smiled faintly.