The Aurors immediately nodded in agreement, standing straighter, putting on their most obedient expressions as they turned toward Bagnold.
She sighed, her stern posture softening just a little. Alex had a point. Maybe she had been a touch too harsh. The cold and gloom of Azkaban could wear down even the toughest wizard. And even she, a respected and hardened official, found the place suffocating.
"Fine," she said at last, her voice losing some of its edge. "Since Alex is speaking on your behalf, I'll let it go this time. But don't make a habit of this. Understood?"
"Yes, Minister!" the two men barked, as if they'd been spared a death sentence. They beamed at Alex, nodding gratefully in his direction.
As for Alex? Of course he had to protect his future customers. The more people who learned the game, the more likely they'd be buying from his shop.
"I'm here to visit Sirius Black. Send someone to guide us," Bagnold said bluntly, getting straight to the point.
"Yes, of course. I'll take the two of you there," said a wizard with a scruffy beard. He turned and led Alex and Bagnold down a long corridor before unlocking a thick iron gate with a heavy key. Beyond the gate, rows of cells stretched down both sides of the hallway.
The moment they stepped into the cell block, a foul stench hit them. It clung to the air like rot, seeping from the cells on either side.
"Minister," the bearded wizard said cautiously, glancing back, "we're now entering the main prisoner ward. Sirius Black is held three levels below. But I must warn you, most of the prisoners here are mentally unstable. If they shout or say anything offensive, please forgive them."
"It doesn't matter. Just take us there," Bagnold replied coolly, completely unbothered.
Alex wrinkled his nose at the stink. The air was thick with the sound of murmurs and muttering. Some prisoners cried out in protest, others mumbled nonsense, and a few screamed obscenities or sang in unsettling tones that made the skin crawl.
He turned to the wizard beside him. "This place is huge. How many people does it take to run a prison like Azkaban? Just feeding everyone sounds like a massive job."
"You can call me Colin," the wizard said with a smile, clearly warming to Alex for asking. "It looks big, but we actually don't have as many prisoners as you'd think. Right now, only the top four levels are full, each prisoner has their own cell. Before the war ended a few years ago, it was even emptier."
"Usually, only two Aurors are on duty at a time, working eight-hour shifts. No one wants to stay here longer than that. The environment's too harsh. As for food, house-elves handle all of it. They're very reliable."
'So he and the other auror were the entire guard shift?' Alex raised an eyebrow, surprised. Colin continued without noticing.
"We don't spend much time in the cell area unless we're patrolling. The dementors handle most of the security. As long as they're here, we've never had a single breakout."
Just as he spoke, a dementor glided silently past them. Up close, the creature was far more terrifying, its very presence seemed to suck the warmth out of the corridor.
The thing's decaying face peeked out from under its hood, and when it noticed the three wizards, its mouth opened hungrily. But it hesitated, noticing the protective marks they wore, and backed off without attacking.
Instead, it drifted toward a nearby cell, opened its mouth, and inhaled sharply. A moment later, a scream echoed from the room.
Watching the horrifying scene unfold, Minister Bagnold frowned. "Are the prisoners really safe? Has anyone ever died in here?"
"Honestly, sir, the dementors do complain about being underfed, but they behave themselves. If one gets out of line, we cast the Patronus Charm to calm it down," Colin replied casually, clearly used to scenes like this.
Alex gave Colin a sideways glance. He found it strange that Aurors stationed here had to be skilled enough to cast a Patronus. Wizards that capable being stuck on guard duty in Azkaban seemed like a waste of talent.
Colin didn't notice the look and kept chatting, clearly eager to talk. He'd probably been in this place too long with no one new to speak to.
"The prisoners on the upper two floors aren't in for long sentences," Colin explained as they continued. "They still have the strength to speak. But once we go two floors down, you'll see for yourself, those inmates are the worst of the worst. Dangerous, violent, completely unhinged. The dementors are posted more densely down there. Honestly, we don't like going near them unless we absolutely have to."
As he spoke, the group descended two more floors using a bizarre, uncomfortable staircase. Instead of normal steps, the stairs were broken up by long corridors between each level, most likely a security measure designed to make escape nearly impossible.
When they reached the third floor, Alex immediately noticed the difference. As Colin had said, it was far quieter than the floors above, but that quiet was deceptive. From the shadows of the cells, gaunt, filthy prisoners with wild hair and empty eyes peered out at them.
"Humans! Fresh humans!" one prisoner suddenly cried out, his voice cracking with excitement. He grinned madly, yellow drool dripping from the corners of his mouth. "Thank Merlin, I can finally see someone other than those wretched guards!"
His eyes locked onto Alex, and a twisted smile stretched across his face. "Hey, you! Boy! Come here, just let me lick you once! One lick, and I'll teach you magic powerful enough to destroy the world! Hahahaha!"
Other prisoners joined in, cackling, shouting obscenities, or muttering unintelligible nonsense. It was as if madness clung to the air itself, feeding on anything sane that came near.
Alex's expression tightened in disgust as he heard their words. He turned a cold gaze toward the prisoners, eyes sharp and intense. With a flicker of magic, he unleashed a fear spell.
The effect was immediate. The jeering stopped. One by one, the prisoners who met his eyes recoiled, trembling. The one who had taunted him earlier collapsed onto the floor of his cell, twitching and murmuring under his breath.
"Visus… it's Visus Timoris …" the man whispered, voice too low for the others to catch clearly.
With the corridor falling into an eerie silence, Colin glanced back at Alex, the smile on his face briefly faltering. His eyes flickered with surprise, clearly realizing that this young man had used something far beyond a simple intimidation charm.
Still, Colin didn't comment. He simply turned and resumed leading the way, his expression calm once more.