"Thanks. Where's my wand?"
"It will be returned to you tomorrow before you leave Azkaban," Ludmis replied. "And try not to cause trouble once you're out. I sincerely hope you can live a normal life."
"Don't worry."
Liam waved a hand dismissively.
"I don't enjoy having my freedom taken away. Unless someone comes looking for trouble, I have no intention of ending up back here."
That much was true.
While Azkaban offered him the opportunity to experiment on Dementors, it severely limited his ability to research magic itself. Even before Ludmis proposed transferring him to Hogwarts, Liam had already been planning his eventual escape after completing his experiments.
Although he regretted losing the chance to tame a Dementor, there would be opportunities in the future.
For now, leaving suited him just fine.
After concluding the conversation, Ludmis quickly departed.
"What a terrifying child."
The thought lingered in his mind all the way back to his office.
Meanwhile, Liam opened the purse he had acquired and examined its contents.
His silver eyes brightened slightly.
Nearly four hundred Galleons.
Apparently being the Warden of Azkaban came with more benefits than Ludmis liked to admit.
A single Galleon possessed considerable purchasing power within the wizarding world.
In fact, Ludmis's purse contained more money than those of several Dark Wizards Liam had killed in the past.
Not bad.
...
The following morning, Liam left his cell under the envious gazes of countless prisoners.
Escorted by Aurors, he was brought to the shoreline outside Azkaban.
Waiting at the dock was a small wooden boat.
Its captain was a thin, white-haired old man whose weathered appearance suggested he was nearly as ancient as the vessel itself.
The boat looked one strong storm away from sinking into the depths of the North Sea.
Liam didn't care.
There was no reason for Ludmis to arrange some elaborate assassination.
Even without a wand, Liam could perform Apparition.
If Ludmis truly wanted him dead, there were far easier methods.
Besides, pure-blood officials like Ludmis valued appearances above all else. If they wanted someone eliminated, they preferred magical solutions.
Using mundane methods was beneath them.
"This contains your Hogwarts admission materials."
Ludmis handed over a sealed envelope and a shopping list.
"You can purchase everything in Diagon Alley. I assume you don't need someone to escort you?"
"No."
Liam stepped aboard the boat.
"I know where Diagon Alley is."
"Then let's hope we never meet again."
Ludmis waved from the shore.
Liam considered the statement carefully.
"I'll do my best."
That was probably the closest thing to reassurance the warden would ever receive.
Everything worth extorting had already been extorted.
The only thing of real value remaining in Azkaban was the Dementors themselves.
Unfortunately, openly targeting them would make him an enemy of the entire British wizarding world.
That would lead to endless assassination attempts, poisoned meals, and sleepless nights.
A better solution would be quietly obtaining a single Dementor in the future and controlling it without anyone noticing.
Trying to dominate the entire population of Azkaban's Dementors was simply impractical.
The boat slowly pulled away from shore.
As the salty sea breeze blew across the water, the grim silhouette of Azkaban gradually faded into the distance.
Only then did Liam open the Hogwarts letter.
The parchment read:
Mr. Liam HaleCell 74, Azkaban Prison
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
First-year students are required to obtain three sets of school robes, a wand, and a pair of dragon-hide gloves. Students must also provide their own standard size-two cauldron.
Students may bring an owl, a cat, or a toad.
Transportation to Hogwarts may be arranged via the Hogwarts Express from Platform Nine and Three-Quarters.
Liam carefully memorized the contents before placing both the letter and the shopping list into his pocket.
...
After an overnight voyage, the boat finally reached the outskirts of London.
Liam parted ways with the old sailor.
Then he snapped his fingers.
Crack.
His body twisted into a spiraling vortex before vanishing completely.
...
A cool morning breeze drifted through the lingering fog.
It did little to improve the gloomy atmosphere hanging over the narrow alley.
An old weathered sign stood at the entrance.
Knockturn Alley.
Wizards in worn robes wandered through the crooked streets. Strange magical artifacts filled dusty shop windows.
Cages containing oversized spiders hung from storefronts.
Black candles burned with eerie green flames.
Dark objects of questionable legality sat openly on display.
For most wizards, Knockturn Alley was a dangerous place best avoided.
For Liam, it was practically home.
Crack.
A vortex appeared in the alleyway.
Liam stepped out.
His arrival immediately attracted attention.
A child alone in Knockturn Alley was unusual enough.
A wealthy child was even more tempting.
Several Dark Wizards instinctively considered approaching him.
Then they recognized the silver eyes.
The effect was immediate.
One by one, they looked away.
Some stepped aside.
Others hurried off entirely.
Nobody approached.
Nobody spoke.
Nobody wanted trouble.
Years earlier, Liam had murdered the Death Eater who owned him.
Afterward, numerous Dark Wizards and Death Eaters had attempted to steal his possessions or recruit him by force.
None of them had returned.
The survivors eventually spread stories.
Stories of a black-haired child with silver eyes.
Stories of Dark Wizards disappearing after provoking him.
Stories of curses that failed and attackers who died instead.
Over time, a title emerged.
The Black-Haired Reaper.
Among the residents of Knockturn Alley, everyone knew the name.
Liam Hale.
Unlike most wizards, Liam had never followed traditional magical education.
Rather than memorizing spells, he studied magical principles.
He broke apart magical structures and rebuilt them according to his own understanding.
Many defensive enchantments permanently protected his body.
Countless Dark Arts had been analyzed and countered.
After enough failed assassination attempts, the Dark Wizards of Knockturn Alley eventually reached a simple conclusion.
Almost no conventional spell could kill him.
Once that realization spread, people stopped trying.
To be honest, Liam had never intended to Apparate directly into Knockturn Alley.
Unfortunately, it was the only part of magical London he knew well enough to reach safely.
His former master had frequently sent him here to purchase supplies and deliver messages.
He had heard about Diagon Alley countless times.
He had simply never visited it himself.
Apparition was a dangerous spell.
The caster needed a clear destination and sufficient familiarity with the location.
Even then, mistakes happened.
Liam remembered his first attempt vividly.
It had cost him his left hand.
The limb had appeared several feet away from the rest of his body.
Fortunately, years of torture had left him with an extremely high tolerance for pain.
Instead of panicking, he immediately tested a healing spell he had been developing.
The spell reversed localized time, returning injured tissue to its condition from several minutes earlier.
The experiment had succeeded.
Had the splinching occurred to his head rather than his hand, he would have died instantly.
Developing magic was inherently dangerous.
Back then, however, Liam had cared little about danger.
Living under a Death Eater had made death feel ordinary.
His only goal had been gaining enough power to drag his master into the grave with him.
Many of his earliest magical innovations had been created with exactly that purpose in mind.
After killing the Death Eater, the pursuit of magical knowledge gradually transformed from necessity into passion.
Now it was simply a hobby.
A very dangerous hobby.
"Hey."
Liam stopped a passing bald wizard.
"How do I get to Diagon Alley?"
The man's body visibly trembled.
For a brief second, terror flashed across his face.
Then he realized Liam was merely asking for directions.
Relief nearly made his knees buckle.
"T-that way."
He pointed down the street.
"Just keep going straight."
"Thanks."
The bald wizard nodded repeatedly.
Then he hurried away as fast as possible.
Most people—even Dark Wizards—had never killed anyone.
Experience mattered more than age in Knockturn Alley.
And Liam Hale possessed enough experience to terrify hardened criminals.
The title of Black-Haired Reaper hadn't appeared without reason.