As the grim fortress loomed faintly through the thin sea mist on the horizon, Severus Snape raised his wrist.
The watch face was clouded with gloom, its hands just pointing to five o'clock.
"Still early," he said, lowering his arm, his voice slightly muffled in the sea breeze. "We move at six, as planned."
The trio ceased the magic propelling their raft, letting it drift silently on the surging waves, waiting in quiet anticipation.
No words were needed. The familiar, soul-deep chill was already seeping from Azkaban, creeping over them. But, fortunately, the Dementors hadn't sensed their concealed presence and didn't approach.
They steeled their wills against the invasive despair the Dementors brought, holding off on summoning their Patronuses for now.
Time ticked by, second by second. Snape's gaze fell back to his watch, the hands finally settling heavily on six.
"It's time," he said.
The three raised their wands again, urging the raft to slice through the dark waters, charging straight toward the fortress.
As the distance closed rapidly, the bone-chilling despair intensified.
The vague, dark shapes that had been aimlessly gliding over the sea's surface now seemed to catch a scent, like moths to a flame. With the howling wind, they swooped down from the fortress's towering turrets, diving straight for the small raft.
Snape flicked his wand sharply, and the massive Invisibility Cloak covering the raft was yanked away, revealing their forms. They became the only beacon in the vast ocean, igniting the Dementors' fervor.
Their vision filled with fluttering black rags and hooded voids. Facing this overwhelming terror, Snape didn't hesitate. "Expecto Patronum!"
In an instant, a colossal silver serpent erupted from the tip of his wand, soaring into the sky.
Its body was immense, solid, radiating a warm, powerful light that banished the surrounding darkness and cold.
Where the serpent passed, the black air seemed to wail with a sizzling cry.
The narrow stretch of sea was illuminated, and the charging Dementors faltered, stunned by the sudden brilliance.
Their featureless, hooded voids were pierced by the radiant light. Instinctively sensing fear, they let out silent screeches, attempting to flee.
But the silver serpent was faster. Like a living creature with a mind of its own, its massive head lunged forward, jaws wide, crashing into the dark beings that had descended like reapers.
As the serpent's light touched the nearest Dementors, their tattered cloaks erupted in rolling black smoke. The twisted, shadowy forms writhed and convulsed in the air, desperate to escape or extinguish the deadly silver glow.
In mere moments, several Dementors disintegrated entirely, reduced to charred fragments of lifeless cloth, fluttering down to the icy sea below.
Emmeline, who had raised her wand to summon her own Patronus, froze in awe at the sight, staring at the rampant silver flames in the sky. Her grip on her wand slackened.
The overwhelming power and speed of Snape's Patronus, fully unleashed, far surpassed her expectations.
"It's alright, Emmeline. You'll get used to it," Moody said in a low voice, noticing her reaction as he struggled to maintain the raft's speed. "I saw it once before, though it wasn't this dramatic."
In Emmeline's moment of distraction, the raft, no longer fueled by their combined magic, slowed noticeably.
A singed remnant of a Dementor's cloak, still trailing wisps of black smoke, spun through the air and landed wetly on the raft's deck just ahead of Snape.
With a look of disgust, he nudged the foul debris into the sea with the tip of his shoe, as if brushing away a speck of dust.
"No need to stop," he said. "Speed up."
Emmeline snapped out of her daze, raising her wand with a jolt and focusing her magic to propel the raft forward.
The raft surged as if whipped, slicing through the waves once more, hurtling toward Azkaban's blackened stone fortress.
Above them, Dementors unable to escape disintegrated midair, their remnants falling limply, swallowed by the sea.
The scattered black debris became the backdrop to their raft's final charge toward Azkaban.
The raft slammed into the dock's rotting wooden posts with a dull thud.
The trio leapt agilely onto the slick, damp stone shore.
Moody scanned their surroundings, pausing in rare hesitation. He took a deep breath of the salty yet oddly "clean" air, his voice hoarse with wonder. "This is the first time I've breathed air this 'normal' at Azkaban."
He glanced back at the sea. The massive silver serpent was still relentlessly pursuing the fleeing Dementors, dispersing black mist wherever it went, restoring a hint of clarity to the oppressive sky.
"Let's go," Snape said, turning first toward the heavy black iron prison gate.
With a wave of his wand, the gate's thick chains rattled and fell away with a groan.
Inside, the prison was as it always had been: cold, damp, and lined with mold-streaked stone walls. But as Moody noted, without the Dementors' pervasive mental assault, it was no longer a soul-crushing dungeon, though still bleak.
They hurried down the dim corridor, their footsteps echoing in the empty passage.
On either side were cold, dark cells with iron bars. Moody's glass eye spun wildly, his good eye scanning the empty cells. His scarred face grew darker, flushing nearly purple with rage.
"Empty? This one's empty too!" His suppressed roar echoed off the stone walls. "Where are the Death Eaters I locked up myself? The murderers, the dark wizards? They're all gone! Damn the Ministry—they've nearly emptied the whole prison!"
"The Ministry is already Voldemort's puppet," Snape replied, his gaze lingering on a deeper cell in the corner. He slowed, stopping at the bars, studying the familiar layout inside. "Mulciber's not here either."
As they searched, Emmeline, leading the way, let out a sharp gasp. "Professor! There's someone here!"
Snape strode forward, his wand's light illuminating the cell.
In a cramped cell ahead, a frail, tiny figure curled up in the corner on the cold stone floor.
She wore tattered prisoner's robes, her body trembling slightly. Most striking was her hair—bleached to a wilted, ashen gray, like faded decay.
The girl's face was buried in her arms, her exposed skin ghostly pale under the wand's faint glow.
Snape pointed his wand at the cell's lock, which sprang open with a click.
He stepped inside, and with a thought, the massive silver serpent chasing stragglers above the sea received his command. It dissolved into a streak of light, piercing walls and stone, returning to Snape's side in an instant.
The condensed serpent shadow circled above him once, then shrank, coiling gently around the unconscious Tonks like a tame band of light, warming her and driving away the lingering chill.
As Snape bent down, Emmeline recognized the girl.
"Nymphadora!" she cried, squeezing past to carefully lift the frail Tonks.
Feeling the warmth and touch, Tonks's eyelashes fluttered, her eyes opening a sliver with effort.
The eyes that once sparkled with mischief were now clouded with heavy, lifeless fog.
But as her blurred gaze focused on Snape and Moody, a faint spark flickered.
Snape pulled a large chocolate bar from his robes, breaking off a piece and holding it out. "Eat this. It'll help."
Tonks's cracked lips moved faintly, not noticing the offered chocolate. Instead, she mustered her strength, her voice a weak, tearful plea. "Snape, Mr. Moody… please… save my mum and dad… they…"
"We'll get them out," Snape said, his hand still extended. "Eat this first, and we'll go save your parents."
Tonks nodded weakly, her trembling fingers pointing toward the cell's depths. Snape, without hesitation, broke off most of the chocolate and pressed it firmly into her hand. "Eat!"
Tonks clutched the chocolate but didn't eat.
There was no time to wait. Emmeline, carrying the weakened Tonks, followed as the group pressed deeper down the cold stone corridor.
They passed cell after cell, most empty, with only the occasional emaciated, unrecognizable prisoner curled in a corner.
"Mum…?"
As they inspected another cell's occupant, Tonks stirred in Emmeline's arms, her voice a near-sob.
At that moment, a woman lying motionless against the wall, as if dead, stiffened.
In the next second, she erupted with startling strength, scrambling to her feet and stumbling toward the bars.
A pale, haggard face, streaked with grime but still bearing traces of former dignity, pressed against the cold iron.
"Nymphadora? Nymphadora!" Her voice was shrill, hoarse. "My child! Is it you?!"
"Mum!" Tonks, in Emmeline's arms, struggled to get down but was gently restrained.
"Andromeda!" Snape waved his wand, and the cell door swung open.
Snape and Moody rushed in, half-carrying Andromeda out.
The moment she was free, Andromeda broke from their support. Emmeline quickly passed Tonks into her mother's arms.
Andromeda clutched her daughter tightly, tears streaming down her face, her body shaking with both emotion and weakness.
Little Tonks, with effort, raised the chocolate to her mother's lips, her voice faint but comforting. "Mum, don't cry… chocolate… from Mr. Snape…"
Andromeda, holding Tonks, wept harder.
"There's more," Snape said, breaking off another piece and handing it over.
Andromeda, still crying, took the chocolate and carefully fed it to her daughter. Tonks took a small bite, and a faint trace of color seemed to return to her ashen hair.
"Where's Ted?" Snape asked.
"Down below, kept separate… and others…" Andromeda clutched her daughter, gasping for breath, pointing to the steep stone stairs descending further.
They pressed on, checking each cell carefully.
"Wait!" As they crossed a wider section of the prison, Andromeda gasped, her eyes locking onto a skeletal man sitting against the wall in a cell to the left. She spoke urgently to Snape and Moody. "That man—I remember him! From the Ministry's Muggle-Born Registration Committee! He's Muggle-born…"
Snape and Moody exchanged a glance. The man, sensing movement, lifted his head slightly, too weak to speak, his eyes devoid of hope.
"We'll come back for them," Snape said. "First, we find our people."
Finally, at the end of a secluded wing on the lowest level, they found Ted Tonks.
When the bearded man in tattered robes saw his daughter in his wife's arms, his eyes reddened. He rushed forward, trembling hands enveloping both wife and daughter in a fierce embrace.
"No time to waste," Snape said, cutting through their moment of reunion. He pulled two spare wands from his robes and handed them to Ted and Andromeda. "Take these."
"Thank you," Ted said, turning to Snape and the others, his eyes brimming with complex gratitude as he took the wand. "We meet again… Can I join you?"
"Of course, Ted," Snape said, clapping his shoulder. "It's not too late."
Soon after, they found Frank and Alice Longbottom nearby. Fortunately, they hadn't been subjected to extra "attention" and, though weak, were still lucid.
After handing them wands, Snape's group began their retreat.
Since no dark wizards were held here, they freed every surviving prisoner they encountered along the way.
Their group swelled to over a dozen, a ragged, limping band filled with newfound hope. Trust would take time, so beyond chocolate, Snape didn't distribute wands to the newly freed strangers.
As they escorted this group to within yards of the prison gate, voices suddenly carried from outside.
Snape raised a hand, halting the group.
Those outside had heard them too, their conversation stopping.
"You inside, listen up! You're surrounded! Drop your wands, disarm yourselves, and come out to surrender! I repeat, drop your wands and surrender immediately!"
The warning echoed from beyond the iron gate.
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