I led Harry and Sirius and walked confidently out of Azkaban.
As we walked, Sirius kept speaking anxiously.
"Hey. Kid. How in the world are we supposed to get out of here? This is Azkaban!"
But his complaining was brief.
When a Dementor, who could not stand to see Sirius escape, rushed at us, I absorbed it on the spot. Then, I tore the great main gate of Azkaban to shreds with Diffindo, and Sirius was left speechless.
"N-no. How... at that age, does this even make sense?"
Even Dumbledore can't destroy a Dementor.
As Sirius muttered in shock, Harry spoke triumphantly.
"That's why I told you not to doubt my master."
Though he didn't say it, he seemed to have in mind the fact that Sirius had reprimanded me for teaching him Crucio. What a good kid.
Sirius, who had been watching intently as I repaired the broken main gate of Azkaban with another wave of my wand, suddenly noticed something and shouted at me.
"Wait, that wand! That's Dumbledore's wand!"
I shrugged and replied.
"You knew Albus? This is a wand Albus gave me as a gift."
"Ah, so that wand originally belonged to that old man?"
"No way. Why would Dumbledore give a wand to a brat like you..."
Brat, brat. Hearing it again and again was starting to get on my nerves, and I said.
"Listen here, Black. The only reason I saved you is because you are Headmaster Black's direct descendant. So cut it with the 'brat' talk, and show some manners."
Tsk, tsk. The manners of Britain have really hit rock bottom in ninety years. How can the scion of a pure-blood family have such poor manners?
"Wait, Headmaster Black? What relationship could you possibly have with a man who died over sixty years ago... sir?"
Sirius was grumbling, but perhaps because he had just witnessed my power, he couldn't bring himself to use informal speech.
"Well then, let's head to the hotel... ah."
Just as I was about to Apparate away, a row of tombstones on one side of the island caught my eye.
It was the graveyard where the bodies of those who couldn't endure Azkaban were buried.
I walked towards the tombstones without a word.
Sirius and Harry followed behind me, looking puzzled.
And then, my footsteps stopped. There, before me, was a gravestone that had no distinguishing features compared to the others.
A simple, grayish-white gravestone, with only a name and the years of birth and death inscribed on it.
[Sebastian Sallow]
[1875-1897]
Sebastian Sallow. A friend I had sent to Azkaban myself.
[T/N: Sebastian Sallow (세바스찬 샐로우): A major character from the game Hogwarts Legacy. He was a Slytherin student and a close friend of the game's protagonist who delved into the Dark Arts in a desperate attempt to cure his cursed sister.]
He had been a dear friend until that incident, but he had crossed a line.
In the end, Sebastian couldn't endure Azkaban, and the news of his death reached me even before I was sent into the future.
But I never imagined I would see his gravestone like this, ninety years later.
As I stood there with a bitter expression, Sirius asked cautiously.
"Sebastian... You know someone who died over ninety years ago?"
I shook my head and said.
"No, it's just a name that feels familiar for some reason."
My mood having soured a bit, I grabbed Harry's and Sirius's arms and said.
"Well. Let's head back for now."
Casting a long-distance Apparition spell in a young body puts a considerable strain on it, but I had no desire to stay in Azkaban any longer.
Besides, Ardeura was waiting for us back at the hotel.
I closed my eyes and focused on the strong desire to be at my destination, and with a swoosh, the three of us vanished from Azkaban.
And in the Azkaban graveyard, now deserted once more.
The setting sun disappeared over the North Sea, and a dark night fell.
Then, a grayish-white something rose up through a gravestone.
"That person just now... Aisen? ...No, that can't be right."
The ghost with a somehow familiar name shook its head.
And so, the night in Azkaban passed quietly once again.
Pop.
We had Apparated directly from Azkaban to our hotel room.
Ugh. I had expected it, but my whole body ached as if I had done a strenuous workout the night before.
It was a little better than before, probably because my body had grown a bit over the past year.
At this rate, it seemed that by the time I was about thirteen, my body would have grown enough that Apparition wouldn't be a strain.
Anyway. I called for Ardeura and Deek.
"Ardeura, Deek!"
Ardeura flew over from the perch we had set up by the window, and Deek appeared with a pop in the way of house-elf Apparition.
The clever Ardeura saw my condition, flew up to my shoulder, and pecked at my hair.
It was Ardeura's way of scolding me for being reckless with my body.
Kee-roo-rook! Kee-rook!
"Ah, ow! That hurts! I'm sorry, I'm sorry!"
Her scolding was brief, and once her anger had subsided, Ardeura dropped a few tears on me and flew down.
I could feel the pain fading away from the spots where her tears had touched.
Sirius said in surprise.
"Fawkes? No, is that another phoenix?"
Deek, who had been watching the scene, said in horror.
"Goodness, Master! Where did you pick up another vagrant! My goodness, Deek can't believe it!"
Sirius, wearing the filthy prison uniform of Azkaban, was, to put it mildly, several times dirtier than a vagrant.
From Deek's perspective, Sirius was someone who absolutely should not exist in this clean hotel.
Sirius, with grime running down his face, sweated and tried to explain.
"No, there's a story behind this..."
"This won't do, Master! Deek must first make this person look like a person!"
"Wai—"
Deek, who had a proactive personality unlike most house-elves, grabbed Sirius and Apparated to the bathroom.
Meanwhile. Harry was showing clear signs of fatigue after his trip to Azkaban.
Well, it was understandable. Not only had he faced Dementors, but he had also gone through his first real battle and used the mentally draining Cruciatus Curse.
I said to Harry.
"Harry, you've been through a lot today. Go and get some rest for now."
"Yes... good night."
He must have been very tired, as Harry went straight to his bed and fell asleep as if he had collapsed.
The sun had set and night had fallen, so I figured I should go to bed too.
I could hear Sirius and Deek arguing somewhere in the bathroom, but that was none of my business.
A growing child needs to sleep early to grow tall. I will definitely grow past 180 centimeters during this growth spurt.
The next morning.
In a daze, I was woken up by the sound of Ardeura crying.
Kee-roo-rook! Keerook!
"Umm... what is it, Ardeura."
What Ardeura brought me was today's Daily Prophet.
Ah. I can't resist the newspaper.
As I unfolded the paper, there it was on the front page: a special report on Azkaban.
[SHOCK! Large-Scale Riot Occurs in Azkaban!]
[Last night, Rodolphus Lestrange, known for the brutal torture of the Longbottoms, died at the hands of Dementors while attempting to escape Azkaban...]
[It is presumed that there was friction with other prisoners during the escape process, and traces of a large explosion were confirmed in Sirius Black's cell... Sirius Black is presumed to be dead...]
[Meanwhile, one inmate claims that two minors broke into Azkaban during the riot... and further claims that one of them was 'The Boy Who Lived,' Harry Potter... The Ministry of Magic has dismissed this as nonsense not even worthy of discussion.]
Oh. I wasn't entirely sure it would work, but I was proud that the groundwork I had laid had resolved itself so well.
I mean, who in their right mind would think that two eight-year-old kids would break into Azkaban?
And one of them was Harry Potter? If you believe that, you're one of two things.
Either the Ministry has an omniscient being, or the Ministry is a den of madmen. Fortunately, it seems to be neither.
Hmm. But I didn't expect Sirius to be declared dead as well.
If this is the case, Sirius will have to live as a fugitive until we find evidence to completely prove his innocence.
"Ugh! Well, I guess I'll have to put up with a little trouble."
Stretching, I got up and went outside.
One of the most important things in a wizard's education is diligence.
As befitting a disciple I had taught, Harry, who was already up and brushing his teeth, greeted me.
"Did you sleep well, Master?"
"Morning, Harry. Did you sleep well too?"
After lightly tidying ourselves up, we were leaving the bathroom, dragging our pajamas, when we saw a stranger sitting on the living room sofa and froze.
I asked Harry.
"Um, Harry. Do you know who that person is?"
"W-well. I don't think I've ever seen him before."
Just then, Deek appeared beside us with a pop and said triumphantly.
"Master, that person is Sirius Black! Deek had a really hard time last night..."
What. Seriously, what.
Harry and I looked at each other with question marks floating above our heads, then looked back at Sirius.
No... is that really the same Sirius from yesterday? Was Deek actually a god?
The vagrant from yesterday was gone, and in his place was Sirius Black, with neatly trimmed hair and a beard, dressed in a suit. He was a completely different person.
Of course, as a descendant of the Black family, I had expected him to be handsome, but even considering that, he was completely unrecognizable from the Sirius of yesterday.
It wasn't just me; Harry must have felt the same, as he asked Deek in shock.
"Deek, how on earth did you do that? You could do this too?"
Deek placed his hands on his hips and said.
"Deek is a competent house-elf! Deek can do anything!"
Sirius, who was sitting on the sofa with a dazed expression, said.
"I hate to admit it, but that house-elf's skills are ridiculously good. My own house-elf was only like that when he was in the best of moods."
I finally came to my senses and asked Sirius (though I was still having a hard time accepting that this was Sirius).
"Black. Did you happen to see this morning's paper?"
Sirius waved the piece of paper that was on the table and said.
"Ah, I saw it. Truly impressive skills, you have."
He still seemed to have some complaints about me, but he at least used formal speech, as if he had clearly recognized that I was an extremely skilled wizard.
"Anyway, about that. Do you know of a hideout that no one can find? It seems you'll have to lie low for a while."
At my words, Sirius seemed to think for a moment, then said, as if he really didn't want to.
"Hah. There is one place... but can't I just stay here?"
I answered Sirius coldly.
"I don't mind, but frankly, you'd be a hindrance to Harry's education."
Sirius seemed to recall that I had taught Harry the Cruciatus Curse and frowned, but then his expression softened and he said.
"...Number 12, Grimmauld Place, London. Let's go there for now. It seems you, Harry, and I have a lot to talk about."
Meanwhile, at Hogwarts.
Though rumors were spreading that the once-gentle Headmaster Dumbledore's personality had changed, Minerva McGonagall did not believe such gossip.
He might have a strange side to him, but he was, without a doubt, a light and a hero of the wizarding society.
Today, as she was heading up to the Headmaster's office with documents to be approved, as usual, Minerva was forced to reconsider her thoughts.
"Lemon Dro—"
The moment she was about to say the password to the gargoyle statue to go up to the Headmaster's office, she heard a shout from within.
"By Merlin's beard!! Isn't this too much!"
Blink, blink.
Minerva, who had been through countless battles, blinked her eyes for a long moment at a situation she had never even imagined.
Then, as if she had seen something she shouldn't have, she turned and walked away from the Headmaster's office entrance, saying.
"...Good heavens. How old is Headmaster Dumbledore this year?"
As McGonagall hurriedly left, she let out a great sigh for the troubles of the magical society.
An age of about 110. From that day on, Dumbledore was, without his knowledge, treated as a suspected dementia patient by McGonagall.