When we Apparated to the gates of Azkaban, I understood why they called it the edge of hope. The air was wet and cold. So cold I could see my breath, even with a warming rune pulsing faintly on my collar. The sea churned far below, and the towering fortress rose like it had been carved from regret itself.
Two Aurors waited at the front gates—rigid in posture, showing they did not want to be here. Behind them stood two Dementors. I froze for a moment out of fear and instinct. Seeing them up close was… different. Madam Bones stepped forward, voice clear. "We're here for Sirius Black. We'll be retrieving him—alive. The Ministry has cleared his charges."
The Dementors didn't speak. Not with words. But even without hearing anything, I felt them trying to press into our minds. Madam Bones frowned. "Yes, I know. But he's being replaced. We brought you someone fresh—Peter Pettigrew."
Then I remembered. Dementors didn't speak because they didn't have mouths for language. They communicated through Legilimency—thought projection, memory piercing, emotion stripping. I activated Mind's Eye, and instantly wished I hadn't. What stood under the cloaks wasn't shadow or smoke. It was too real.
They were pale and with white skin, like the skin was a shell just hugging their bones. No eyes. Only a wide, cracked mouth . Their rib cages jutted outward like warped bone armor, thin long arms and fingers dragging slightly as if too long. Their spines curled unnaturally, and just past what should've been hips, there was no body—only a drifting end like the skeletal echo of a tailbone. Their aura wasn't dark It was empty like a void. A hunger that didn't rage—but waited. Cold, patient, endless.(Image here)
I felt my body tremble for half a second. Not from fear, but from the idea that they couldn't be fought normally and then I had the thought. What would happen if I used the White Flame on them? Would that kill them or the Black Flame what power would I gain?
I shoved the thought away. Not now I thought. We walked past them. They parted for Madam Bones like curtains of death. I followed her and Aster as we ascended through the levels of Azkaban, watching enchanted torches flicker across stone damp with silence.
And then we arrived to Cell Block 7. There, behind rusted bars and ancient runes, sat Sirius Black. He looked exactly like the man from the movies. Unkempt. Gaunt. But there was a difference here—something more human in the way he moved.
He was still in his thirties. But thin as bone, face sunken, lips dry. His voice was rough when he spoke. "Well, well. What does the Great Madam Bones want from me now?"
She stepped forward, speaking with formality and restraint. "Sirius Orion Black. On behalf of the Minister of Magic, the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and by vote of special inquiry—I hereby declare you cleared of all charges related to the death of the Potters, 30 muggles and the death of Peter Pettigrew."
His eyes widened. "…What game is this?" "It's no game." She continued. "Our investigation has confirmed that Peter Pettigrew is alive. His confession under Veritaserum places you as innocent." Sirius stood. Life rushed into his eyes like fire waking up inside frost.
"Where is he? Where's that rat? Wormtail! I'll kill him—" He surged forward. But I didn't flinch. I stepped between him and the bars, holding up my hand. And let White Flame bloom from my palm. It spilled over the runes like soft light soothing.
Sirius froze as it brushed against him. His shoulders slumped. His voice cracked. "…Who are you?" Aster stepped beside me. "The one who fought to save you." He blinked at her, then back to me. "But I don't know you—why would you…?"
I looked up at him, still holding the flame. "For Harry. my god brother" His eyes filled instantly. Tears slipped down sunken cheeks. "…Samira's boy?" he whispered.
"Yes." He fell to his knees, gripping the bars. "How is he? How is Harry?" "He's safe. Better than safe. Thanks to my mother and father. You'll see him soon." Bones took a step forward, her tone softer now. "We're taking you to St. Mungo's. You'll be treated, examined. The past can't be undone—but I swear on my family name we will repay this debt done unto you."
Sirius exhaled. "What about… him?" Her eyes darkened. "Pettigrew will take your cell is in your cell and he'll die in it." She paused. "Your name will be cleared. You'll receive reparations. And I will make sure the Ministry—this Ministry—pays what it owes."
He smiled faintly. "That's… a start." And then he passed out. I stepped back, releasing the flame he was do damaged and drained not just physically but emotionally and mentally as well. Aster moved swiftly and caught him. Lifting him effortlessly. "Let's go," she said.
St. Mungo's Hospital.
Sirius lay asleep in bed surrounded by warm lights and bustling Healers. The sound of bubbling potions and diagnostic charms buzzed quietly. I sat nearby, watching as nurses finished casting spells and setting aside tonics and potions .
Aster stood by the window. "I'm calling in a few people from Kyoto," she said. "Specialists in soul trauma and long-term isolation. He'll need more than potions to heal from this."
"Thank you," I said. Madam Bones approached me, still in her uniform but softer now. "You did amazing, Mr. Dawn… or should I say—Mr. Tesfaye?"
I chuckled lightly. "Either works. I'm still getting used to it." She crossed her arms. "The world's going to talk about you , Callum. You didn't just free a man. You exposed a systemic failure. There are ripples already forming. And I'll be reviewing your full thesis—the parts on institutional corruption, magical reform, and education too."
"Thank you," I said. "But… let's not rush." I stood and looked her in the eye. "Let's build this right. One alliance at a time." She gave a small smile. "Spoken like a true future leader." She paused. "…Are you sure you're only ten?" I grinned.
"No." I leaned in with a whisper. "I'm actually a 39-year-old man in a 10-year-old body." Aster burst out laughing. Even Bones chuckled but inside me… I knew it was true.