As you can see, I am an Auror belonging to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement of the British Ministry of Magic. My name and such details aren't important—you need only understand my duties: searching for and apprehending dark wizards who violate magical law. This is our responsibility.
Today, my colleagues and I received an extraordinary assignment. According to our superiors, we're to escort a thoroughly depraved dark wizard to Azkaban. During this operation, Azkaban's guards—those revolting Dementors—will also serve as escort personnel, accompanying us to the fortress.
From what I understand, the number of Dementors joining our convoy reaches four hundred and thirty-six. They were originally deployed by our superiors as guards and apprehension units at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Their target was crystal clear: Sirius Black, the prisoner who recently escaped from Azkaban.
If you ask me, abominations like Dementors should be eliminated immediately. They're neither controllable nor reliable. The fact that they allowed a prisoner who committed heinous crimes twelve years ago to escape so effortlessly proves their utter incompetence.
Wait—if the Dementors responsible for containing Sirius Black are being recalled to Azkaban from Hogwarts, then our current prisoner... couldn't possibly be the recaptured Sirius Black himself?
Of course, those were merely my assumptions after receiving orders but before entering the courtroom to observe proceedings. After witnessing the entire trial, my perspective shifted completely.
Who could have imagined that the Ministry's judgment regarding that incident twelve years ago was diametrically opposed to reality? The true perpetrator was someone else entirely. Sirius Black had actually been framed, and the Ministry had callously condemned an innocent man to twelve years of wrongful imprisonment. Absolutely incomprehensible.
The Ministry grows more corrupt and degenerate with each passing day...
These remain strictly private thoughts—I'm not foolish enough to voice such seditious opinions publicly.
However, following today's case retrial, the British Ministry will inevitably face crushing public scrutiny. That outcome is entirely predictable.
But none of that concerns me directly. I need only execute my assigned mission. Let the higher-ups worry about political complications—such matters lie beyond my purview.
My current objective is straightforward: deliver the genuine criminal before me—Peter Pettigrew, who feigned death for twelve years while framing another, this monster who obliterated half a street and murdered countless Aurors and Muggles—directly into Azkaban's depths.
Viewed from this angle, those shadowy creatures aren't entirely without purpose. At minimum, they'll ensure this damned wretch experiences the most excruciating torment until death claims him.
My colleagues and I employed the Department of Magical Law Enforcement's specialized containment apparatus designed for restraining dark wizards, completely immobilizing Peter Pettigrew. After completing requisite procedures and protocols, we prepared for departure.
Our superiors clearly consider this escort mission of paramount importance. Hopefully we'll encounter no complications during transit.
Escorting Peter Pettigrew from the courtroom, we encountered Minister Fudge near the ornate fountain, apparently engaged in conversation with someone.
Wait—could that be Albus Dumbledore? I never anticipated having the extraordinary privilege of seeing him in person. You must understand—I'm among the devoted admirers of this century's most distinguished British wizard.
Though current relations between the Ministry and this legendary figure could charitably be described as strained, that doesn't diminish my profound respect for him.
Ah, he's noticed my attention. But exactly as others have described, this truly is a benevolent and compassionate wizard. Rather than showing displeasure at my obvious staring, he offered me a warm smile.
Long live Dumbledore.
He's redirected his attention now, apparently addressing a young witch standing before him... Undoubtedly a Hogwarts student, though her presence here seems rather unusual.
She likely accompanied Dumbledore to these proceedings. This young witch appears remarkably close to the headmaster—perhaps a favored protégé?
Surely not a granddaughter? I vaguely recall Dumbledore never married...
Regardless, speculating about others' private affairs seems inappropriate. Though I must acknowledge—that young witch possesses genuine charm.
...To clarify—that represents purely innocent appreciation for an endearing young lady, devoid of any improper implications whatsoever. I am decidedly not predisposed toward such unseemly interests.
Enough digressions. We must depart the Ministry to fulfill our obligations.
Following my colleagues through the Ministry's concealed exit, I immediately experienced bone-deep cold—both physically and psychologically—emanating from those Dementors hovering above our emergence point.
They're approaching now. Fortunately, the supervisor responsible for managing these abominations had issued preliminary instructions, preventing them from launching an assault.
More precisely, preventing them from commencing their "feeding." They appear ravenous, now circling our formation—likely indulging in wishful anticipation.
Truly repulsive entities.
Yet we have no alternative. Superior orders demand absolute compliance. Because these creatures must maintain pace with our convoy, Apparition becomes impossible—we're restricted to carriage transportation.
Our route requires overland travel to the coastline, followed by maritime passage to reach Azkaban's island fortress. This promises to be an thoroughly miserable journey.
The magical creatures drawing our carriage maintain impressive speed, but deteriorated roadways create violent bouncing throughout our passage. My posterior has begun registering vehement protests—the discomfort is becoming unbearable. When will Auror field equipment finally receive modernization?
The coastal drive requires approximately one hour. Complete darkness has descended, we're approaching forested terrain ahead, and atmospheric mist continues thickening around us. Honestly, under such conditions, our movements should remain completely undetectable to any malicious observers.
Though I maintain confidence that no complications will arise, as an Auror dedicated to combating malevolent dark wizards, vigilance remains paramount. Within the wizarding world, everything carries lethal potential—constant alertness prevents surprise Killing Curses from terminating your existence without warning.
My colleagues naturally share this philosophy. Despite casual conversation, we all maintain firm grips on our wands, prepared for immediate defensive countermeasures against unexpected attacks.
Among our seven-member team, three have mastered the Protego charm—more than adequate for collective protection.
But speaking of atmospheric conditions... isn't tonight's fog density somewhat excessive?
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