Chapter 158
When Albert pressed the doorbell, he soon heard quick footsteps approaching from the other side.
The door opened at last, revealing a woman in her prime not too young, not too old. She had a kind smile and an air of warm hospitality about her.
"Oh! You must be Albert Black!" she said cheerfully, her eyes scanning him from head to toe with clear approval.
Albert straightened up slightly and nodded politely. "Yes, ma'am! Is this the Granger residence?"
Sally Granger smiled, gesturing for him to come inside. "Yes, of course! Please, come in!"
Albert handed her the bags he was carrying. "Here you go, ma'am these are for you."
"Oh, my! You didn't have to trouble yourself buying all this!" Sally exclaimed kindly as she took the bags. "Thank you, dear."
Albert rubbed the back of his neck, his cheeks warming slightly. "Ha-ha, no need to mention it, ma'am. It's a duty for any guest to bring something along!"
As he stepped inside, Albert was pleasantly surprised by the house it was larger and more elegant than he had expected from a Muggle family.
Once Sally closed the door behind them, she called out in a loud, excited voice, "Hermione! Where are you, dear? He's here!"
Moments later, Hermione stepped out of her room.
She was wearing a soft violet dress, with a delicate golden necklace resting on her neck.
Albert froze for a second. He hadn't imagined how different Hermione would look outside her school robes and certainly not how beautiful she could be.
Hermione, for her part, flushed the moment she saw him. The way Albert had styled his hair, swept neatly back, and the elegant black-and-white outfit he wore it made her heart skip just a little.
They shook hands, a bit awkwardly at first, each one trying to hide their nervousness.
"Welcome, Albert," Hermione said softly. "Thank you for accepting my invitation."
Albert smiled, bowing his head slightly. "It's my pleasure, really. I'm honored to be here."
Soon they were all seated around the dinner table, chatting about school, their lives, and Albert's curious adventures. Laughter began to fill the room, melting away the stiffness of the first few minutes.
---
Meanwhile… inside Azkaban.
An old man walked slowly down a dim corridor, a heavy ring of dark keys jingling in his hand. The air was thick and cold the kind of cold that seeped straight into the bones.
His steps echoed down the long, grim hallway lined with cells. The prisoners inside were motionless shadows broken, hollow remnants of their former selves.
The old man stopped now and then, peering at the cell numbers as if searching for one in particular.
He moved sluggishly, like a weary, half-demented elder who could barely walk.
But when he looked around and saw no Dementors, no guards from the Ministry anywhere nearby, his demeanor changed instantly.
The frail, trembling gait disappeared. He straightened his back, his movements quick and sharp.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small vial filled with a dark, murky liquid. Without hesitation, he downed it all in one go.
He gagged, grimacing at the awful taste—but within seconds, his face began to twist and ripple, features melting and reforming like wax near a flame.
When the transformation was done, the frail old man was gone.
In his place stood Barty Crouch Jr.
A wide, crooked smile crept across his face as he licked his lips a strange habit of his, one that always gave him away, whether he was angry, delighted, or simply alive.
He strode quickly down the corridor, his eyes burning with purpose, until he finally stopped in front of a certain cell.
A grin spread wider across his face. "Found you at last…" he muttered.
Then he shouted, "Oi, Wormtail! Wormtail! Wake up!"
Inside the cell, a disheveled figure stirred. Peter Pettigrew Wormtail blinked through the dim light.
Another prisoner from a nearby cell called out desperately, "Hey! Whoever you are please, open my door! I'll do whatever you want, just get me out of here!"
Barty ignored him completely. He had no time to waste.
He turned back to Wormtail's cell and shouted again, louder this time, "Wake up, Wormtail!"
Peter jerked upright, trembling. "I I'm sorry! Please! I'm innocent, I swear!"
Barty rolled his eyes and slapped him across the face to shut him up.
"Calm down and listen!" he hissed. "It's me Barty Crouch Jr.!"
Peter stared in shock, eyes widening as recognition hit him. "You it's really you?!"
Barty didn't waste a second. He muttered a quick counter-curse, breaking the magical locks that sealed the cell. The shackles on Peter's wrists and ankles clattered to the ground.
He grabbed Wormtail by the arm. "We don't have much time! Once we're out of here, I'll explain everything!"
Peter stumbled after him, confused and terrified. "But but Barty! If we're freeing people, why not help Bellatrix too? We could get her out as well!"
Barty's temper flared instantly. "Didn't I just tell you we don't have time?! If I could, I'd free every one of the Dark Lord's loyal followers but right now, we need you, Wormtail. You're important to the plan!"
Peter blinked, startled. "P-plan? What plan?"
"Let's get out first," Barty snapped. "Then you'll see."
And with that, the two Death Eaters vanished down the corridor, shadows slipping away from the cold heart of Azkaban.
---
To be continued …