Erwin gave a brief nod to Ebony.
The shadowy familiar didn't hesitate, gliding silently toward the restrained Dementor. With a look of utter disdain at the creature's pathetic struggling, Ebony dispensed with its usual feeding method entirely. Instead, it simply opened its mouth wide and inhaled sharply.
Erwin watched with fascination as wisps of grayish-black mist began rising from the Dementor's tattered form, spiraling directly into Ebony's open maw like smoke being drawn up a chimney.
Erwin's eyes gleamed with satisfaction. The hypothesis was correct—it actually worked.
As the dark energy was systematically absorbed, a faint aura of the same grayish-black haze began gathering visibly around Ebony's form, creating an eerie corona of captured despair.
Erwin leaned forward with interest. "The absorption is genuinely effective, then?"
Ebony released the Dementor—now noticeably diminished—and let out a distinctly satisfied burp.
"Can you absorb more than that?" Erwin asked clinically.
Ebony nodded, then offered a soft, complex meow that somehow conveyed multiple layers of sensation simultaneously.
Erwin frowned thoughtfully, interpreting the response. "I see. It causes you discomfort, but you're still capable of ingesting it?"
Ebony nodded again, looking up at Erwin with an almost sheepish expression. The creature seemed genuinely worried that Erwin might view this limitation as some form of inadequacy or failure.
Erwin chuckled warmly, reaching down to pat the shadowy familiar reassuringly. "Don't concern yourself—it's not a flaw on your part. This is merely a minor variable in the experimental parameters. This Dementor is just a test subject, after all. As long as you can successfully absorb the energy, that's sufficient for our purposes. The Dementor's essence itself isn't the priority here—divine power is what truly matters. For now, take some time to properly digest what you've consumed. I have other matters requiring attention, but we'll be departing shortly."
Ebony nodded obediently and leaped gracefully onto the back of Erwin's Patronus—the massive silver panda—which had just reformed after its earlier exertions.
The Patronus struggled to turn its enormous head, eyeing the dark shadow perched on its back with obvious wariness. The memory of Ebony's previous bite was evidently still fresh in its mind.
Erwin then turned his attention to the Auror who had recovered somewhat from his traumatic Dementor encounter. The man was sitting upright now, though still visibly shaken.
"You may accompany us when we depart," Erwin stated matter-of-factly. "Afterward, you'll have a choice: remain with the Cavendish family in whatever capacity suits your abilities, or return to your previous Ministry duties. The decision will be yours."
The Auror nodded hastily, understanding the implicit dynamics at play. Erwin utilized people's abilities strategically, certainly, but he also bestowed proportional rewards. More importantly, he seemed to genuinely attempt minimizing the moral weight of his actions by offering genuine choices rather than issuing absolute demands. It was a subtle distinction, but an important one.
Erwin beckoned to his Patronus. The massive panda strolled over obligingly, carefully scooped up the weakened Dementor in its substantial paws, and positioned itself to follow Erwin.
Moving through the prison corridors, Erwin systematically selected a handful of prisoners from various cells. He didn't offer lengthy explanations or attempt to justify his selections. He simply opened their cell doors with a wave of his wand and gestured for them to step out.
The suddenly freed prisoners were utterly bewildered by this development.
"What... what is this?" one demanded suspiciously.
"I can remove you from Azkaban," Erwin stated flatly, his tone brooking no argument. "Someone will teach you the rules of your new arrangement. There's a ship waiting at the island's dock—they'll explain what comes next."
One prisoner, a rough-looking wizard with scars covering half his face, sneered with obvious contempt. "Why the hell should we listen to some pampered brat?"
"Yeah!" another chimed in aggressively. "You think we're idiots, kid?"
"Finally free!" a third laughed harshly. "Play your little games alone, boy. I'm getting out of here."
Several prisoners—perhaps ten in total—who looked particularly hardened and violent grinned at each other and turned to simply walk away, clearly dismissing Erwin as inconsequential.
Erwin didn't speak. He made no threats or warnings. He simply allowed them to leave, watching impassively as they headed confidently toward the exit.
The remaining prisoners watched this exchange with acute attention. Those who possessed sharper instincts could sense the terrifying magical power radiating subtly from the enormous Patronus. They recognized immediately that Erwin was far from an ordinary wizard—certainly not someone to be casually dismissed or antagonized.
Seeing that none of the more cautious prisoners were attempting to flee, Erwin raised a single finger with deliberate calm.
A beam of concentrated purple light shot from his fingertip, immediately splitting into roughly a dozen individual streaks in mid-air. Each one homed in unerringly on one of the departing prisoners with predatory precision.
"What the—?!" one shouted, finally sensing danger.
The first wizard struck by the violet light collapsed instantly, his face turning ashen gray as the life drained from his body. "Bloody hell! The Killing Curse! That's impossible—a child, casting the Killing Curse silently and wandlessly?"
"A purple Killing Curse?!" another cried out in utter panic, diving desperately for cover. "What kind of magic is this?!"
"Run! Hide!"
The fleeing prisoners scattered frantically, but Erwin's expression remained one of cold disdain. The purple bolts of lethal energy curved impossibly in mid-air, tracking their designated targets with relentless determination. There were no dramatic screams—only the heavy, final thuds of bodies hitting the stone floor in rapid succession.
The prisoners who had wisely chosen not to flee stared at Erwin, completely paralyzed by terror at what they'd just witnessed.
"Now then," Erwin said, his voice unnaturally calm and measured. "Proceed to the shore. Board the waiting vessel. Personnel there will take care of your immediate needs and explain your new circumstances."
The remaining wizards didn't hesitate for even a moment. They sprinted toward the shoreline with desperate urgency, terrified of the mysterious, homing purple curse that apparently defied every known law of magical combat. They couldn't comprehend why the Killing Curse appeared purple rather than the traditional sickly green, nor how it could impossibly curve around obstacles to track moving targets, but they understood one crucial fact with absolute clarity: disobedience meant immediate death.
Within minutes, the courtyard stood empty of living prisoners except for roughly a dozen corpses scattered across the stones. Erwin didn't spare them even a passing glance. He simply mounted his Patronus and departed Azkaban without looking back.
Back in Diagon Alley, Erwin chose not to dismiss his Patronus immediately. Instead, he instructed the massive panda to carefully transport the captured—and now significantly weakened—Dementor to a specialized research laboratory housed within Cavendish Tower.
This particular facility was staffed by scholars and technical experts Erwin had personally recruited from the non-magical world. They possessed extensive knowledge of advanced physics, chemistry, and related scientific disciplines—expertise Erwin had specifically tasked with attempting to unravel the fundamental secrets underlying magical energy from an empirical, scientific perspective.
Whether this unprecedented cross-disciplinary approach would yield useful results remained uncertain, but Erwin firmly believed the experiment was worth conducting. After all, every accomplished scientist, regardless of their specific field of specialization, was ultimately capable of producing miraculous breakthroughs when properly motivated and supported.
Erwin then provided Old Tom with detailed instructions—essentially a comprehensive "user manual"—for managing the newly acquired Azkaban prisoners. The directives were straightforward: utilize them as expendable assets according to operational requirements. They were, in the most clinical sense, disposable resources. If casualties occurred during missions, they could simply acquire replacements. At worst, they could systematically empty Azkaban's entire population. If the infamous prison were ultimately abandoned entirely, perhaps they could even develop it as some sort of macabre tourist attraction—after all, the wizarding community possessed a rather morbid fascination with the notorious facility.
As for the practical question of how to effectively control these inherently dangerous prisoners, Erwin trusted Old Tom completely to devise suitable containment methods. During the Cavendish family's operations in the non-magical world, they had frequently employed captives as expendable shock troops, often securing specialized restraint collars around their necks that could be triggered remotely. Now operating in the magical world, Erwin felt confident Tom would innovate creatively on that original methodology, adapting it for magical enforcement.
He trusted Tom's abilities and tactical creativity without reservation.