章 396: 0395 Azkaban
"Ensure that this world hasn't been destroyed?" Sirius gasped, his voice trembling with a mixture of disbelief and uneasiness. His eyes, wide with shock, darted frantically around the surreal landscape before settling on Bryan. Desperately seeking reassurance, Sirius turned towards him, only to find Bryan's brow furrowed in deep concentration, seemingly lost in thought.
Rowena Ravenclaw was clearly aware of what Gryffindor had said. She gazed at the small island under the only patch of dark clouds in the otherwise azure sky, her eyes dimming slightly.
Without warning, the ship beneath their feet surged forward. The vessel cut through the waves with newfound urgency as it dashed towards the island. Bryan, shaken from his reverie by the sudden acceleration, set aside his contemplation and turned his gaze towards their rapidly approaching destination.
Azkaban- even its name sent shivers down the spines of the bravest witches and wizards. It was the most heavily guarded and feared location in the entire wizarding world, its reputation built on the tales of its infamous guards, the soul-sucking Dementors. Yet, for all the terrifying legends that circulated about its guardians, little was known about the island itself.
"Bryan—"
Sirius began, his voice barely above a whisper. As the island loomed ever closer, Sirius felt his shoulders involuntarily hunch, his body wracked by violent tremors. The increasingly vivid view before him dragged him back to the nightmarish years he had spent imprisoned within Azkaban.
The soul-deep fear etched into every fiber of his being rapidly eroded what little courage and curiosity he had mustered. Even though his rational mind insisted that everything before him was just an illusion– Sirius found himself unable to shake the terror that gripped him.
"You can be sure that we're not in the real world now, right?" Sirius said, his voice cracking with desperation. "This is just a memory, correct?"
"That's almost certain—" Bryan began, his voice trailing off as he noticed the unmistakable signs of distress etched across Sirius's face. In that moment of shared understanding, Bryan's expression softened with empathy.
After a brief pause, during which he weighed his words carefully, Bryan reached out and placed a comforting hand on Sirius's trembling shoulder.
"If you're uncomfortable, you can stay on the ship later. I'll go down with these two and have a look— I guess this memory we're in will end once Gryffindor and Ravenclaw finish exploring Azkaban. We should be able to leave by then."
This suggestion was indeed quite tempting to Sirius. He hesitated for a moment, his gaze inadvertently falling on Gryffindor's sword at his waist and the fluttering hem of his robe as he stood against the wind.
"I want to go—" Sirius said suddenly, his voice stronger than before. He drew in a deep breath, and his body was still trembling, but he managed to puff out his chest.
"It's just an illusion after all!"
Sirius panted, his tone sounding both like an explanation to Bryan and encouragement to himself.
"I am from the House of Gryffindor; how can I embarrass myself in front of Godric Gryffindor himself? Besides," he added with a forced chuckle, "if James knew I was this scared even knowing it's an illusion, he'd definitely laugh his teeth off!"
"You can make your own decision," Bryan replied with a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders. "Just don't push yourself too hard—"
As they neared the shores of Azkaban, the boat slowed its frantic pace. At a gesture from Gryffindor, it came to a complete stop some distance from the island, bobbing gently on the swelling waves. An eerie silence descended upon the group, broken only by the soft lapping of water against the ship's hull and the occasional mournful cry of a distant seabird.
Bryan and Sirius, the latter still avoiding direct eye contact with his surroundings, stood in tense silence alongside Gryffindor and Ravenclaw.
As they drew ever closer to the island, it was as if all the color was being leeched from the world around them.
The vibrant blues of sea and sky faded to various shades of lifeless gray, while the island itself looked as though it had been ravaged by the Fiendfyre. All was so quiet, with only the painful moans of the air as it passed over the cracked rocks protruding from the island's surface.
"The forbidden place above the North Sea, the birthplace and graveyard of death—"
The gloomy and terrifying Azkaban made even Gryffindor's expression grow solemn.
"We've finally found the clues you sought in the ancient texts and Helga's prophecy, Rowena—"
Rowena nodded almost imperceptibly, her eyes dimming further.
"Can you hear the wails of the lives that perished on this land, Godric?" she asked, her melodious voice tinged with sorrow. "That complete madman. It's unimaginable if one day such an evil person returns to our world. In Helga's prophecy, that terrible future—"
"Isn't that why we've come here?" Gryffindor interrupted, his hand coming to rest on the ornate hilt of his sword. His piercing gaze seemed to push back against the miasma of decay and despair that emanated from the island. "To prevent such an outcome?"
As they drew nearer, it became apparent that referring to Azkaban as an island was something of a contradiction. In truth, it more closely resembled an enormous, flat reef that had thrust its way up from the depths of the sea. The only structure marring its barren expanse was a singular, circular tower that rose ominously from the center of the stone platform. Weathered by time, the jet-black tower's exterior was unnaturally smooth, its obsidian surface reflecting a faint, sickly light.
"Something's not right—"
Sirius mumbled, finally mustering the courage to raise his head and survey his surroundings. Having endured twelve years of torment within the tower's oppressive walls, he felt no curiosity about the imposing structure that dominated the island's landscape. His only concern was for the Dementors - those soul-sucking monstrosities that had inflicted endless suffering upon him, stripping away not just his happiness but even his very capacity to feel pain.
"The number of Dementors—" Sirius began hesitantly, squinting against the gloom as he fought to suppress the waves of nausea and dread that threatened to overwhelm him.
"Do you see those things, Gryffindor?"
Rowena Ravenclaw suddenly spoke up, and Sirius immediately closed his mouth.
"Evil creatures—"
The fiery Gryffindor's tone was full of disgust.
"Yes, I see them. We've never encountered them before, nor heard of them. Let's go, Rowena. We'll go over and see if it's what we're looking for."
In the blink of an eye, Gryffindor and Ravenclaw vanished from Bryan's field of vision, only to reappear moments later standing on the shores of Azkaban island. Afraid of missing any crucial information, Bryan acted on instinct. He reached out and grasped Sirius's arm firmly, their bodies shimmering and becoming ethereal as they took flight, soaring towards the island.
Dementors!
These terrifying creatures, now infamous throughout the wizarding world, were virtually unknown to the general magical population a millennium ago.
For hundreds of years, this desolate island had remained uninhabited by any sentient beings. It was likely that Godric Gryffindor and Rowena Ravenclaw were the first witches or wizards to set foot on its accursed shores since the mysterious disappearance of its original inhabitants.
The Dementors that hung around the island's periphery, having survived for centuries on the meager emotions they could garner from passing sea creatures, were sent into a frenzy by the sudden appearance of the two legendary Hogwarts founders.
Thirty to forty Dementors emitted hoarse sounds, leaving a faint frost in the air wherever they passed!
These creatures, devoid of reason or mercy, were incapable of realizing the immense magical power possessed by those they were trying to harm. As they approached within about sixty feet of the two legendary wizards, Gryffindor's hand moved with lightning speed. In one fluid motion, he drew his sword and thrust it skyward. The crisp, ringing sound of the blade leaving its scabbard reverberated through the air, more stirring and potent than a clap of thunder.
Above them, the roiling dark clouds that shrouded Azkaban were suddenly and violently pierced. A massive hole appeared in the gray canopy, allowing golden sunlight to pour down upon the blasted landscape.
Gryffindor's eyes blazed with an inner fire, and from his sword - now crackling with magical energy - a strange power began to emanate in pulsating waves. This force seemed capable of freezing space itself; as it washed over the advancing Dementors, they were frozen one by one in mid-air, even their tattered robes hung motionless.
It is widely known throughout the wizarding world that there is only one spell capable of affecting Dementors - the Patronus Charm.
On the Isle of Avalon, Bryan had also seen Gryffindor's own Patronus. It was a majestic lion, and at the time, that Patronus had given Bryan quite a fright because the lion was actually corporeal.
Now, Gryffindor once again taught a lesson to future young wizards: common sense can be broken, and Dementors are not only restrained by Patronuses!
While Gryffindor held the Dementors at bay with his extraordinary display of magical prowess, Rowena Ravenclaw seized the opportunity to showcase her own formidable abilities. With graceful precision, she raised her slender wrist, directing her palm towards the nearest of the frozen Dementors. The air around her hand immediately became hazy and distorted, shimmering like the surface of a heat-struck desert.
The targeted Dementor, as if caught in some invisible current, began to drift slowly but unescapably towards Ravenclaw's outstretched hand. Despite their imposing stature - typically standing at least a dozen feet tall - this particular Dementor appeared to be under some form of powerful magical compression as it floated towards her.
Wisps of inky black smoke rose from its massive, terrifying form. As these dark energies were forcibly expelled, the Dementor's body began to rapidly contract. By the time it finally landed on Ravenclaw's palm, it had been reduced to a 'miniature' little Dementor, no larger than a child's doll.
Gryffindor's penetrating gaze fell upon this tiny Dementor, and for reasons known only to him, the solemnity etched between his eyebrows deepened further.
With fluid grace, Ravenclaw brought her hands together, enveloping the miniaturized Dementor between her palms. As she did so, countless rays of dazzling, holy light began to escape from between her fingers, bathing the immediate area in a warm, golden glow that stood in stark contrast to Azkaban's perpetual gloom.
"Stop!"
At the edge of the island, Bryan, who had just landed on the rocky shore, glared fiercely at Ravenclaw with bloodlust. His eyes blazed with an unexpected ferocity as he resolutely raised his wand, much to Sirius's astonishment.
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章 397: 0396 The Dementors
The Dementors, those infamous and terrifying guards of Azkaban prison, have long been a source of everlasting fear in the wizarding world. These emotionless, wraith-like creatures are known to strike dread into the hearts of even the bravest souls who speak their name. With their ability to drain happiness and pleasant memories from the minds of their victims, they leave nothing but hollowed shells devoid of joy or hope. Dementors represent the very essence of despair.
What's more terrifying is that these monsters seem to have no weakness. While the Patronus Charm can temporarily repel them, no known magic has ever succeeded in permanently destroying a Dementor. This chilling fact has led many to believe that these creatures are truly immortal, existing beyond the boundaries of life and death.
The Ministry of Magic's decision to employ these nightmarish beings as guards at Azkaban has been a constant source of controversy and criticism. Many argue that subjecting prisoners, regardless of their crimes, to the despairing presence of Dementors is cruel and inhumane. However, supporters of the Ministry's policy point out an undeniable truth: the threat of Dementor serves as a powerful deterrent to evil-doers throughout the Wizarding community.
In this tense atmosphere, Rowena Ravenclaw was attempting to destroy these fearsome beings. Even Sirius could easily discern Ravenclaw's intentions. His hatred for Dementors ran deep, and upon realizing Ravenclaw's intentions, Sirius momentarily forgot his fear of revisiting this place. A spark of anticipation ignited in Sirius's eyes, a glimmer of hope that perhaps these tormentors could finally be vanquished.
But suddenly, an angry shout shattered the oppressive silence, startling Sirius out of his hopeful reverie. The source of this unexpected outburst was none other than Bryan.
Sirius had never seen Bryan in such a state before. The young man's usually handsome features were twisted into a mask of rage, his eyes blazing with an intensity that bordered on madness. With a swift, decisive motion, Bryan raised his wand, pointing it directly at Ravenclaw ordering her to stop in a harsh voice.
Utterly bewildered by this sudden turn of events, Sirius found himself questioning Bryan's sanity.
"What in Merlin's name are you doing, Bryan?" he exclaimed, his voice a mixture of confusion and concern.
The situation made no sense to Sirius. According to Bryan's earlier explanation, what they were seeing was just a memory - events that had already happened and couldn't be altered or interfered with. So why was Bryan reacting with such unrestrained fury to Ravenclaw's attempt to destroy the Dementors?
Almost as if driven by instinct, Bryan's body tensed, his grip on his wand tightening as he continued to aim it at Ravenclaw's back.
It was Sirius's shout of alarm that crashed like thunder, snapping Bryan out of his trance-like state. Bryan's body shuddered violently as if waking from a terrible nightmare and beads of cold sweat formed on his forehead.
"What's going on, Bryan?" Sirius's voice was filled with concern.
Bryan's lips moved, but no words came out. He didn't know how to explain to Sirius the overwhelming, instinctual reaction that had been driven by something deep within his very soul.
After several tense moments, Bryan managed to find his voice, though it was barely more than a whisper. "It's nothing," he said, clearly lying but unable or unwilling to elaborate.
"Let's keep watching." With that, he pressed his lips tightly together, a clear signal that he would say no more on the subject.
As they turned their attention back to the unfolding scene, they witnessed a display of magic that defied imagination. In Ravenclaw's palm, a miniature sun seemed to be taking form. Its radiant light pierced through the perpetual gloom of Azkaban, causing the very foundations of the gloomy island to tremble in response. The sheer magnitude of this power, even within a memory, was enough to cause Bryan's expression to change once more.
In the distance, the frozen Dementor's ethereal body trembled violently, as if enduring unimaginable agony. The unfortunate creature directly subjected to Rowena Ravenclaw's formidable power emitted a continuous, bone-chilling wail from within her grasp. The sound was unlike anything Sirius or Bryan had ever heard before - a cry of pure anguish that seemed to resonate on a spiritual level.
As the hellish cries continued to echo across the desolate landscape, Godric Gryffindor, standing beside Ravenclaw, made a decisive move. With a look of grim determination etched onto his face, he reached out his rough, battle-scarred hand and grasped Ravenclaw's delicate palm.
The moment their hands connected; A thunderous boom erupted from the Void!
What followed was a display of magical synergy unlike anything recorded in the annals of wizarding history. Two vastly different soul energies combined like apocalyptic millstones. Together, they attempted to grind the Dementor out of existence in the most direct and brutal manner imaginable.
The agonized wailing emanating from their joined hands gradually weakened, becoming fainter and fainter until it was barely audible. The very air around them seemed to distort, warped by the sheer magnitude of the magical forces at play.
After what felt like an eternity, but was likely only a matter of moments, Gryffindor slowly moved his palm away. Ravenclaw deep in concentration, also opened her hand.
The tension in the air was palpable as Bryan and Sirius immediately moved closer, eager to see the results of this unprecedented magical assault. However, their expressions quickly darkened when they saw what remained in Ravenclaw's hand.
Against all odds and expectations, the Dementor was still there.
The creature had been drastically altered by the power it had just endured. Its form was now nearly transparent and reduced to roughly the size of a small fish.
Yet, despite this dramatic reduction, the fundamental essence of the Dementor persisted. It had not been destroyed or erased from existence as Gryffindor and Ravenclaw had clearly intended.
"How is this possible?" Sirius exclaimed, his voice a mixture of disbelief and disappointment.
Indeed, according to common knowledge in the wizarding world, Dementors were believed to be indestructible. But surely, Sirius thought, that belief was based on the limitations of ordinary wizards. The ones who had taken action before them were none other than the great Godric Gryffindor and Rowena Ravenclaw, two of the perhaps most powerful wizards in history. How was it possible that even with their combined powers, they couldn't annihilate a single, ordinary Dementor?!
Bryan's eyes flickered with an odd light, finding it equally incredible.
As they stood there, frozen in shock and struggling to grasp the scene before them, Gryffindor, undeterred by this initial failure, prepared to make another attempt. His legendary sword began to hum with magical energy. The air shimmered around the blade, and suddenly, a majestic lion with ruby-red eyes and a fiery mane materialized out of thin air, roaring furiously at the 'little Dementor' in Ravenclaw's palm.
Sirius, momentarily forgetting the seriousness of the situation, cried out in excitement like a young wizard witnessing magic for the first time. The Patronus was indeed a magnificent sight, embodying all the courage and nobility associated with the house of Gryffindor.
Bryan, on the other hand, having seen this particular Patronus before narrowed his eyes in anticipation of what would happen next.
With the unspoken understanding that comes from years of friendship and collaboration, Rowena gently shook her palm, allowing the tortured 'little Dementor' to float towards Godric's Patronus. The corporeal lion opened its terrifying, blood-red mouth wide. In one swift motion, it swallowed the diminished Dementor whole.
"This time it's surely done for!" Sirius shouted out confidently, his voice ringing with a mix of excitement and vindication.
The Patronus, which seemed as alive and sentient as any living creature, let out another fierce growl. A mysterious magical power began brewing within its closed mouth but….
After a moment of breathless anticipation, something unexpected happened. The majestic lion Patronus, with what almost seemed like a look of confusion on its spectral face, spat something out onto the floating ground.
Rowena Ravenclaw with a frown of concentration, stared intently at what the Patronus had expelled. There, floating above the ground, was a transparent ghostly creature. It was the Dementor, now reduced to a size no larger than a pinky finger, but still unmistakably present and intact.
Ravenclaw spoke, her voice losing its usual ethereal quality and becoming heavier with the seriousness of this revelation, "Do you see it, Godric?"
Gryffindor nodded grimly, his expression a mixture of frustration and understanding. Ravenclaw continued, her ice-blue eyes flickering with a hint of worry, "It cannot be destroyed. The Patronus indeed has the power to affect it, but the key isn't in the power of the soul, it's in... happiness. And these pitiful creatures—"
'Not in power, but in happiness.'
Bryan's brow furrowed slightly as he pondered her words, trying to decipher their full meaning. But what he heard next shattered his composure entirely!
"Ah, Herpo—" Gryffindor said, his voice tinged with a hint of melancholy and perhaps a touch of anger. "That cunning fellow created the Horcrux, using the lure of immortality to deceive so many wizards of his time. They were used, constantly splitting their souls, ultimately becoming these empty shells caught between life and death, ghosts without substance."
Crack!
The impact of these words was like a bolt of lightning striking Bryan's very soul, draining the color from his face.
What did this mean? Dementors were... wizards? Not just any wizards, but those who had attempted to achieve immortality through the creation of Horcruxes? Wizards who had split their souls so many times that they had become these empty, soulless shells?
Sirius, standing beside Bryan, also wore an expression of shock and doubt. Though he didn't know what a Horcrux was- he could at least understand the basic implication of Gryffindor's words. The fearsome Dementors, the terror of Azkaban, were once human wizards who had somehow split their souls.
Bryan's thoughts whirled in turmoil as he tried to merge this new information with what he knew.
In modern times, Voldemort was the only wizard Bryan was aware of who had split his soul multiple times, a feat of dark magic that had given even the 'great' Albus Dumbledore no end of trouble. Voldemort had likely been most proud of his mastery over Horcrux magic, viewing it as the ultimate path to immortality. But neither Dumbledore nor Voldemort could have imagined that the ultimate fate of repeatedly splitting one's soul would be... this.
As Bryan's mind raced, piecing together the inferences in this revelation, he found that it made perfect sense in a twisted way, didn't it? A Horcrux, by its very nature, would strip away the good parts of a person's soul, leaving only the darkest aspects of human nature behind. And if, in the end, even that remnant of evil was stripped away through repeated divisions, what would be left?
The answer was chilling: Dementors fed on the emotions of the living out of instinct, an instinct to complete what was missing in themselves!
"How pitiful—" Ravenclaw's face showed a depth of compassion that seemed at odds with the reputation often attributed to her house. Her ice-blue eyes softened for a while as she gazed at the tiny Dementor, seeing not a monster, but a tragic victim.
"These wizards fell victim to a plot, they must have once followed Herpo, believing that his gift of the Horcrux magic was a reward, a path to eternal life. But they were used as pawns in a greater scheme. Herpo only needed their nearly indestructible shells after they had transformed into these creatures."
'Needed their shells?'
Despite the chaos swirling in his mind, Bryan latched onto this phrase, sensing its importance. He knew that either Gryffindor or Ravenclaw must have preserved this memory as a crucial piece of information, a guide for future generations. Yet, even with this knowledge, he still couldn't fully decipher all the information presented to him.
"Pitiful creatures indeed," Gryffindor agreed, his voice a mix of compassion and steely resolve. "But regardless of their origins, we must find a way to destroy them. The threat they pose is too great to ignore."
Ravenclaw nodded slightly, her expression serious. "That's the most crucial step," she agreed. "Understanding their nature is important, but finding a way to disintegrate them... that's the true challenge we face."
As this solemn conversation took place, Sirius found himself looking back and forth between Bryan's pale, conflicted face and the imposing figures of Ravenclaw and Gryffindor. He opened his mouth several times but didn't know what to ask.
There were simply too many questions, too many earth-shattering revelations to process all at once. But one thing Sirius knew with absolute certainty: he had just learned some extremely important secrets. And Bryan's insistence on coming here was most likely related to these secrets!
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