Chapter 293: Holiday's End, Training, and Jailbreak
The Christmas winter break had dwindled to its final precious days, each one slipping away like sand through an hourglass. Sirius wandered through Grimmauld Place with the dejected air of a man facing his own execution, his melancholy so thick it seemed to seep into the very wallpaper and infect everyone within reach.
His negative energy spread through the ancient house like a contagious plague, transforming what should have been cheerful post-holiday conversations into subdued whispers and worried glances.
Mrs Weasley's professional assessment, delivered with the brisk efficiency of someone who had raised seven children, was that Sirius was experiencing a severe depressive episode brought on by impending separation anxiety.
"Sirius, maybe I should stay here instead of returning to school..." Harry suggested hesitantly, his own voice betraying the fear that had been growing in his chest like a cold knot.
After all, at Grimmauld Place he could remain close to his godfather, providing comfort and companionship. But returning to Hogwarts would surround him once again with isolation, suspicious stares, and the constant worry that he might lose control and harm someone innocent.
That evening, as London's winter darkness settled over the house like a suffocating blanket, an unexpected visitor arrived at their doorstep. The sharp, authoritative knock cut through the house's melancholy atmosphere like a blade.
Sirius opened the heavy door with reluctant movements, his already drooping expression becoming positively venomous when he recognised their unwelcome guest.
Unfortunately, Professor Snape was also a sworn member of the Order of the Phoenix, which meant Sirius had no choice but to invite him into the sanctuary of the old house, though every fibre of his being rebelled against the courtesy.
"What brings you here?" Sirius asked through gritted teeth, his voice dripping with barely contained disgust.
"Because certain arrogant father and son pairs consistently treat others' vital reminders as meaningless background noise," Snape replied, his tone maintaining that characteristic steady dullness that somehow made even insults sound like academic observations, "I find myself with no alternative but to waste my exceedingly precious time cleaning up after their predictable failures."
The calculated criticism made Sirius's jaw clench so tightly that his teeth nearly cracked under the pressure.
"Enough time-wasting," Snape continued with cold efficiency. "Harry Potter, you will accompany me immediately."
Harry jerked in alarm, his concentration shattered so completely that Ron easily captured one of his chess pieces with a triumphant grin that quickly faded when he noticed the tension filling the room.
"Wait just one moment!" Sirius roared, leaping to his feet and grabbing Snape by the front of his black robes with both hands.
"If I discover that you're using this so-called teaching as an excuse to torment Harry psychologically..."
"How amusing," Snape's mouth twisted into that familiar cruel half-smile that had terrorised countless students over the years. "I don't possess unlimited free time like certain unemployed individuals, but Mr Potter should have inherited the same remarkably thick skin as his arrogant father. A little verbal correction shouldn't cause any permanent psychological damage."
The deliberate provocation was too much for Sirius, who immediately drew his wand and pointed it directly at Snape's heart, magic crackling dangerously in the air between them.
At that precise moment, a certain dragon holding a fizzing butterbeer wandered into the room and observed the two grown men locked in their ridiculous standoff with the detached interest of someone watching a mildly entertaining theatrical performance.
Snap! Aiden's fingers produced a crisp sound that seemed to resonate through the very foundations of the house, activating an immediate calming effect that washed over both combatants like cold water dousing flames.
"Alright, Sirius," Aiden began diplomatically, "having Harry learn proper Occlumency was actually my original suggestion from the very beginning. Your teaching progress has been... disappointingly slow, to put it gently."
Then he turned his attention to Professor Snape with a meaningful look that carried layers of unspoken warning.
"Professor, I trust you're aware that using aggressive Legilimency to forcibly break through a subject's mental defences while they're actively resisting can result in your own private memories being accidentally discovered by that same subject? You do understand the implications of such an... oversight... don't you?"
Aiden's hint was delivered with the subtle precision of a master strategist, leaving no doubt about what secrets might be at risk.
"Hmph." Professor Snape crossed his arms defensively and responded with a cold snort that revealed nothing of his inner thoughts.
"I knew that greasy snake was planning something underhanded..." Sirius began to rise again but found himself gently but firmly pressed back into his chair by Aiden's surprisingly strong grip.
"That's quite enough from both of you," Aiden said with finality. "Harry, you'll go with the Professor immediately. Learning Occlumency isn't optional anymore; it's absolutely essential for your survival."
Harry reluctantly departed with Snape, his shoulders hunched with resignation and dread.
Over the following days, Harry endured daily Occlumency sessions that felt more like psychological torture than education. Before each lesson began, Snape would meticulously extract his most sensitive memories and secure them safely in his personal Pensieve, creating an elaborate ritual of preparation.
Then came what Snape privately considered his most enjoyable time of day: forcibly using Legilimency on Harry Potter, watching the boy's pathetic mental defences crumble like wet parchment under his relentless assault.
When Harry dragged his exhausted, emotionally battered body back to Grimmauld Place each evening and witnessed Ron and Hermione playing wizard's chess together in comfortable companionship, the bitter sourness in his heart intensified to nearly unbearable levels.
But such torturous days couldn't continue indefinitely. Soon the dreaded time arrived for their return to Hogwarts, marking the end of their extended holiday respite.
On the final night of their break, everyone gathered around the expanded dining table for one last communal dinner. Mundungus arrived with his characteristic blend of nervous energy and suspicious glances, while Moody's magical eye whirred constantly as it surveyed every corner for potential threats. Tonks brought her infectious laughter and hair that shifted colours to match her fluctuating moods.
Sirius made valiant efforts not to spoil everyone's final evening together, forcing bright smiles that never quite reached his eyes. He enthusiastically cheered for the twins' latest magical pranks and served generous portions to every guest, playing the perfect host despite his inner turmoil.
But Harry's increasingly keen observation skills, honed by weeks of unwanted Legilimency training, noticed that between moments of forced laughter and animated conversation, Sirius would occasionally reveal expressions of such profound dejection that they seemed to physically pain him.
When morning arrived with its cruel finality and the time came for inevitable goodbyes, Harry was suddenly overwhelmed by a terrible premonition that settled in his stomach like swallowed ice.
"Sirius, I need to warn you about..." Harry began urgently but found himself already being hustled onto the waiting vehicle before he could complete his desperate warning.
During the journey aboard the Knight Bus, with its characteristic lurching movements and the nauseating smell of magical transportation, Moody and Tonks took turns threatening poor Stan Shunpike with increasingly creative hexes if he dared reveal Harry Potter's presence to any interested parties.
Aiden observed this entire melodramatic performance from his comfortable position near a window, watching London's grey winter landscape blur past while thoroughly enjoying the absurd spectacle.
At the imposing gates of Hogwarts, Lupin and Tonks helped everyone manage their accumulated luggage with the efficient teamwork of people who had performed this task many times before. Meanwhile, the dragon lurking nearby seemed to detect some intriguingly familiar romantic scent drifting between the two adults, his enhanced senses picking up emotional undercurrents that others missed entirely.
The new semester began with its usual mixture of excitement and dread, and the Weasley twins immediately resumed hawking their latest magical inventions with the enthusiasm of born entrepreneurs.
Throughout the entire winter break, the two redheaded troublemakers had relentlessly pestered Aiden to analyse his unique abilities, initially treating it as an amusing intellectual exercise.
At first, Aiden had assumed they were simply playing around with magical theory, but as weeks passed, their persistent research actually began yielding impressive practical results.
Most invisibility cloaks available in the wizarding world functioned by targeting the wearer's physical form directly, bending light around their body to achieve concealment.
However, the twins had discovered through careful observation that Aiden's invisibility operated on an entirely different principle: mentally causing observers to simply overlook his presence entirely, as if their minds refused to acknowledge what their eyes were seeing.
Building on this revolutionary insight, they had successfully developed what they proudly called an "Invisibility Hat" that could completely hide the wearer's head when properly positioned, creating an effect that even impressed the usually sceptical Hermione.
"So, what's your professional assessment of this product's market potential?" George asked with a carefully raised eyebrow, clearly fishing for specific information.
"Definitely destined to become a bestseller," Aiden replied with deliberate casualness, knowing exactly what they were hoping to hear but choosing to play innocent for his own amusement.
"Then, our beautiful and generous little brother," Fred said smoothly, draping his arm around Aiden's shoulders with practised familiarity, "could you possibly provide us with some additional investment capital to properly launch this revolutionary product?"
"You two are essentially presenting an untested concept product to your primary shareholder," Aiden observed with an amused smile, though his criticism was clearly affectionate rather than serious.
Nevertheless, he reached into his robes and produced a heavy leather pouch containing approximately two hundred gleaming Galleons, handing it over without any visible reluctance.
"The boss is incredibly generous!" both twins chorused in perfect unison, immediately snatching the money pouch and vanishing into the crowd before Aiden could reconsider his investment.
Meanwhile, far away on the windswept, soul-crushing island fortress of Azkaban, events were unfolding that would shake the entire wizarding world to its foundations.
A Death Eater operative had successfully infiltrated the Dementors' primary dwelling place, moving through shadows and despair to make direct contact with their ancient, terrifying leader.
Voldemort's promises to these creatures of darkness were as seductive as they were horrifying: when he inevitably came to power, the Dementors would be granted unlimited freedom to absorb happiness, hope, and joy from any victims they chose, creating a world perpetually shrouded in misery and despair.
Thus began the largest and most devastating prison break in Azkaban's long, bloody history.
Bellatrix Lestrange, Antonin Dolohov, and more than ten other dangerous Death Eaters successfully escaped from their supposedly impregnable cells, leaving behind only emptiness and the lingering scent of dark magic.
This mass exodus filled Voldemort with such intense pleasure that his triumphant emotions transmitted directly to Harry Potter through their unwanted soul connection, causing the boy to wake in his dormitory bed with inexplicable feelings of malicious joy.
Of course, this devastating rampage represented far more than simple prisoner liberation. It marked the complete defection of the Dementors from Ministry control and dealt a crippling blow to the government's already strained magical law enforcement capabilities.
The Ministry's conservative faction responded with immediate emergency mobilisation, their propaganda machine roaring to life at full capacity like a great mechanical beast awakening from slumber.
"The Ministry has already issued appropriate warnings to the Muggle government." "Death Eater escape: did they truly escape, or is this elaborate misinformation?" "Everything remains under complete control with Minister Fudge's steady leadership..."
"Of course, we have strong reason to suspect this entire operation was merely planned and executed by a prisoner who has previously escaped from Azkaban custody: Peter Pettigrew," Fudge announced from his elevated platform, desperately showcasing his extremely limited vocabulary while trying to project confidence he clearly didn't feel.
In perfect coordination, the influential Lestrange family praised Fudge's leadership to unprecedented heights through every propaganda channel they controlled, flooding the wizarding media with carefully crafted messages of support.
Inside Hogwarts' warm stone walls, Aiden smiled knowingly while reading the morning edition of the Daily Prophet, until Edmund snatched the newspaper away with obvious frustration.
"What exactly are you trying to accomplish here?" Edmund demanded with genuine confusion. "Boosting Fudge's public reputation at a critical time like this... do you actually want him to win this year's election?"
"How could that possibly be my intention?" Aiden replied innocently. "Have you completed withdrawing your family's funds and personnel as we discussed?"
"Completed successfully, but the financial cost was absolutely staggering!" Edmund complained with visible pain at the memory.
"And what about the new newspaper? What will you be calling it?" Aiden reclaimed the Daily Prophet from Edmund's grip.
"Wizard Daily", Edmund replied with an exaggerated eye roll that suggested he found the name somewhat ridiculous.
"Then let's settle back and quietly wait for this fascinating show to begin," Aiden said, his smile widening with anticipation of events yet to unfold.