"That voice!"
Moody's good eye narrowed, and fury ignited within him. He slammed his walking stick, roaring with his distinctive gravelly voice toward the door: "Savage! You spineless, gutless bastard! Are you sure you want to face me, Alastor Moody? Do you want to see if this wooden leg can put a dent in your skull?"
The shouting from outside immediately ceased. Then, another, slightly hesitant young voice spoke up. Though the owner tried to maintain authority, the tension in his tone betrayed his lack of confidence: "Alastor, listen, old chap, we—we're just performing routine checks based on the alarm! We don't want to be your enemies, really, but—"
"No 'buts'!" Moody's roar sharply cut off his excuse. "Let's fight!"
A brief, awkward silence fell over the corridor.
At this moment, Frank Longbottom stepped half a pace forward and touched Moody's arm. As Moody turned his head, Frank gently shook his head. "Proudfoot," Frank called out to the iron gate, "If you and Savage insist on coming after Alice and me, by all means, come. But you know why we and the others in this prison were locked up. As former colleagues, it doesn't have to be like this."
Silence fell outside again, and the muffled, urgent whispers of the two men could be faintly heard. A moment later, Proudfoot's voice rang out again, deliberately louder, as if speaking to his companion, or perhaps intentionally for those inside to hear clearly.
"Bloody hell, Savage!" Proudfoot muttered in a low voice. "I thought this would be easier, that's why we didn't follow the Head Auror to London, but who would've thought? What do we do now? Frank and Alice, and Moody, who we're supposed to be hunting!"
"Are we really going to fight them, just the two of us?" Savage's voice responded. "Think, Proudfoot, they're tough nuts. For a few Galleons, are you sure we'll even make it back alive to write the report? It's perfectly normal for the two of us to lose, right? It's not shameful at all, and the higher-ups should understand, after all, we tried our best."
"But—but—alright, you're right!" Proudfoot's voice was hesitant and struggling, seeming to be finally convinced. "So how do we write the report? Hmm, 'encountered a large enemy force offering fierce resistance, we fought valiantly but were ultimately overwhelmed, forced to retreat to preserve manpower'? Sounds good—"
Then, he raised his voice and shouted into the door:
"Alastor, Frank, Alice, and everyone! Alright, we'll back off! Way back! You can come out now! We promise—no interference! For old times' sake?"
Inside the cell, Snape, Moody, and Frank exchanged quick glances. The "negotiation" outside was clearly an act. How much could they trust two Aurors who were letting them go? But regardless, it was seven wands against two. Snape nodded decisively, whispering to the group:
"Stay alert, Shield Charms ready. Once we're out, we'll move towards the shore immediately."
The group maintained a defensive stance, the glow of Shield Charms visible in front of Snape, Moody, Emmeline, and the others on the outer layer. They pushed open the heavy iron door, and the dim morning light filtered in. In the distance, under the faint light, two figures in black robes indeed stood behind a rock about fifty yards from the shore.
When they saw the large group emerge, the two visibly shrunk further behind the rock, as if afraid of stray curses. One of them, seeing Snape and the others' cautious posture, even raised a hand and waved, a wide gesture with a friendly air, making no attempt to obstruct them.
"Quick!" Snape whispered, warily eyeing the rock. Under the guard of the protection squad's wands, the rescued group, supporting each other, stumbled their way to the stone steps leading to the small dock.
Upon reaching the shore, Snape pointed his wand at the small wooden raft they had arrived on, simultaneously incanting complex Transfiguration and Enlargement Charms. Streams of magic shot out, and the raft rapidly inflated, widening and lengthening like a balloon, transforming in the blink of an eye into a crude but sturdy large boat capable of accommodating everyone.
The liberated prisoners, supporting each other with Emmeline's help, quickly boarded the vessel. As the last rescued person stepped onto the raft, Snape's gaze swept towards the shore. There was another, smaller wooden boat moored there, presumably the one the two Aurors had arrived in.
"Diffindo!" Snape casually waved his wand backward, precisely slicing through the bow of the smaller boat. With a bang, wood splinters flew, the boat disintegrated, and shattered planks scattered, drifting helplessly in the dark seawater. Some parts even sank directly into the deep.
Proudfoot and Savage on shore gasped at the sudden explosion, instinctively ducking with their heads in their hands. When they looked up again, they only saw the large boat already a good distance away. At the stern, Snape was slowly lowering his wand. His black hair ruffled in the sea breeze, and he waved at the two dumbfounded figures on shore, a gesture of farewell.
The wooden boat carried the rescued people, cutting through the waves with a bumpy ride, leaving the suffocating shadow of Azkaban. The cold sea wind was still biting, but the atmosphere on board, due to their rescue, was filled with the excitement of survival and a touch of warmth.
After a brief silence, the suppressed emotions of the rescued crowd found an outlet; they began to converse in low tones, their voices filled with bitterness and bewilderment.
"All these years, they still call us Mudbloods," a grizzled man said hoarsely. "Our magic is stolen, how can that be?"
"Our magical abilities are, of course, innate!" a younger woman beside him added excitedly. "I've been able to make spoons bend by themselves since I was a child. But those Ministry people interrogated us for proof of our magic's origin, demanding we prove which wizard relative our ancestors had eighteen generations back!"
"Yes, it's completely different from what the Daily Prophet said. They promised registration was just for safety, but instead—" another voice said with deep weariness. "Where are we supposed to find that proof? Because of this, they called us thieves and locked us in Azkaban." He shivered as he spoke.
"And we, we were caught by them at home," Ted said helplessly, tightly hugging his wife and daughter. "Compared to us, you've had it good." A sarcastic smile appeared on his face. "Our whole family was locked up. Even though my wife is pure-blood and my daughter is at least half-blood, they still found reasons, saying we defiled the noble and pure blood of wizards—"
"You," Snape interjected into their conversation, "you actually believed the Ministry's propaganda? You obediently went to register?" His gaze swept over these people who had just escaped hardship. "When Hogwarts' Headmaster and Deputy Headmaster, and half the professors, chose exile with all the Muggle-born students, you actually naively believed the Ministry would protect you?"
His words left everyone speechless for a moment, shame and realization dawning on their faces. Just then, a generally quiet woman in her forties suddenly looked up, her eyes blazing with intense joy.
"Hogwarts in exile!" she exclaimed excitedly. "Rissy! Rissy Pollack! Is she with you?" The woman eagerly leaned forward, reaching past the others. "Sir, Rissy Pollack! She's my younger sister's daughter, I'm her aunt, Kate Prendergast!"
Snape immediately recalled the somewhat careless little girl who had earned his first O.W.L. "Yes," he nodded. "Miss Pollack is living and studying at the real Hogwarts. She's adapting quite well."
"Oh, thank goodness! Thank you!" Kate let out a long sigh of relief, tears instantly welling up. "Those days, seeing Professor Dumbledore and the others slandered as traitors and madmen in the Daily Prophet, fleeing with students, I was so worried sick that something would happen to Rissy, I didn't even dare tell my sister—"
"And then," she wiped away tears with the back of her hand, letting out a choked, self-deprecating laugh, "Alas, the one I should have been most worried about was myself! I was so foolish, truly. I only knew the Ministry represented the official authority, but I never knew they could fall so low. And even more ridiculous, that I would actually suspect a good person like Professor Albus Dumbledore of 'kidnapping' students. I was so incredibly stupid!"
"Madam Prendergast," Emmeline looked at the woman with some curiosity and asked, "So, your family actually produced two witches? That's quite rare in Muggle families."
"That's right," Kate looked up, a bitter smile on her face, mixed with pride and sorrow. "After me, the 'freak,' the family had Rissy, this little witch, and everyone was especially happy, thinking she was a gift from God."
"Who would have thought that in just a few years, everything would change, and Muggle-born status would become original sin." She wiped away her tears, looking at Snape, Moody, and Emmeline, her eyes full of gratitude. "Knowing Rissy is safe and being taken care of by you all, I'm relieved. That's more important than anything, thank you—"
The journey felt less long amidst the conversation. When the grey coastline reappeared in sight, the large boat slowly docked. Everyone stepped onto solid ground through the cold seawater and sand, the sea breeze whipping at their thin prison robes. Emmeline looked at the exhausted, tattered survivors, her heart aching, and turned to Snape and Moody.
"Can we take them back with us?" she asked. "They are all victims of Ministry brutality, with nowhere to go. Can we take them back to the Founder's Ship?"
Moody folded his arms, his single eye scanning the crowd, the muscles in his scarred face tight. He didn't speak, but his tight lips and wary posture indicated his stance.
"No," Snape directly rejected Emmeline's proposal, looking at everyone. "I'm sorry, Emmeline; I'm sorry, everyone. I understand what you've been through, but we must be cautious."
"The Founder's Ship holds many Hogwarts students, and its safety is our bottom line, never to be risked. Although we chose to rescue all of you, we don't know your backgrounds or what's on your minds."
The rejected proposal did not elicit anger or begging from the rescued. Unexpectedly, they expressed understanding for Snape's concerns.
"You're right, sir," the grizzled man who spoke earlier was the first to nod. "You saving us is already a huge kindness. We cannot cause you more trouble or put you in danger."
"Thank you for your kindness, madam," Kate said to Emmeline. "We understand your caution. It is absolutely correct."
"Yes, we don't need to go with you."
"Thank you, this is already good enough!"
Others also chimed in, expressing sincere gratitude and understanding.
"How about this," Snape looked at them, speaking gently. "It's hard to get by without a wand in these times. Since your wands have been 'temporarily confiscated' by the Wizarding Born Registration Committee, when we leave, we'll leave a few spare wands for you."
"By the way," at this moment, an idea sparked in Snape's mind, and he turned to Kate. "Madam Prendergast, would you like to personally meet your niece, Rissy?"
Kate's eyes instantly lit up. "Are you serious, sir? Can I?" She could hardly believe her ears. "Yes! Of course, I want to! Oh my goodness, can I really?"
"You can," Snape nodded. "Your identity and blood relation to Miss Pollack are clear. Once there, you can also tell the students on the ship about your experiences, let them see the true consequences of the Ministry's 'registration system,' and expose their false propaganda."
The other rescued people, though somewhat envious, were mostly happy for Kate and quietly offered her congratulations.
Just as everyone relaxed slightly, immersed in the joy of Kate's imminent reunion with her family, Moody, whose eyes had been vigilantly scanning the surroundings, suddenly raised his hand, pointing to the distant gray sky.
"Alert!" he roared, drawing his wand almost simultaneously. Snape's wand was also raised in an instant. Looking up, they saw a tiny black dot in the sky rapidly moving towards their coastline.
A few seconds later, as the distance closed, the silhouette of the black dot became clear: it was an owl, vigorously flapping its wings. Snape remained vigilant, his wand slowly following the owl's flight path. The owl, however, had a clear destination, diving straight towards him. It circled twice in front of him, landed on the ground, and extended a leg with a letter tied to it.
Snape frowned slightly, bending down to untie the letter. The envelope bore no signature, but the unique cursive script made Snape recognize the sender—Narcissa Malfoy. He did not immediately open the letter but put it into an inside pocket of his robes.
Having done this, he noticed that the owl, having delivered its message, did not immediately fly away. Instead, it looked at him expectantly with its round, large eyes, let out a quick, plaintive "hoo hoo," and gently pecked at his sleeve with its beak.
"Here, eat," Snape immediately fumbled in his robes and pulled out a small, oil-paper package. Opening it, he offered the dried fish. The owl excitedly snatched it, tilting its head back and swallowing it in two or three gulps. Then, it looked up again, hooting more eagerly, even flapping its wings to urge him on. Seeing this, Snape simply placed the remaining dried fish on the rock. The owl contentedly lowered its head and began to peck at the food.
"Alright," Snape said, no longer looking at the greedy messenger, and turned to the others. "We should go." He took three wands from his bag and gently placed them on a flat stone. "After we leave, you can come and get the wands, then leave this coast immediately, the farther the better."
"In the future, please be careful and protect yourselves, and don't believe any official statements from the Ministry unless we have reoccupied Hogwarts Castle," he smiled, adding, "and perhaps, the Ministry as well."
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