Couple of days later, the summer morning was calm at the White Manor. Golden sunlight poured through the tall windows of the breakfast room, catching on silver cutlery and the gentle steam from Eira's teacup. She was halfway through buttering a slice of toast when the door opened.
Emma entered, a folded newspaper in one hand, a look of quiet satisfaction on her face. Without a word, she placed the Daily Prophet before Eira, the headline bold and impossible to miss.
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SIRIUS BLACK ESCAPES
Most Notorious Dark Lord Aide at Large
Beneath the headline, a large moving photograph showed the gaunt, hollow-eyed face of Sirius Black. His long, matted black hair hung around his face, and in the enchanted image he was screaming — mouth open in a soundless howl, eyes blazing with something feral.
The article beneath it read:
By Special Correspondent
London — In a shocking revelation, leaked from within the Ministry of Magic itself, it has been confirmed that Sirius Black, the most infamous of the Dark Lord's surviving supporters, has escaped from Azkaban prison.
Black, once a close aide and confidant to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, was convicted for multiple murders, aiding the Dark Lord's rise, and betraying James and Lily Potter to their deaths. He is believed to have been responsible for the events that led to the orphaning of their son — known worldwide as The Boy Who Lived.
Ministry insiders claim that Black's primary objective is to find and kill Harry Potter, now soon to be a third-year student at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
Officials have refused to provide details of Black's escape, citing "security concerns," but this marks the first known instance of anyone breaking out of the heavily guarded prison. Dementors have been dispatched across the country, though Ministry spokeswizards insist there is "no cause for public panic."
Black remains at large. The Ministry advises all citizens to remain alert and immediately report any sightings.
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Eira's eyes lingered on the moving photograph. The man's deranged glare and the way the picture seemed almost to lean toward her was unsettling — but not enough to mask her curiosity.
She turned the page to find more commentary. There were reactions from all corners of Britain:
• Common folk were frightened, speaking in hushed tones in Diagon Alley, shopkeepers keeping their doors locked even during business hours.
• Pure-blood families expressed a mix of alarm and disdain. Many whispered that the Ministry had grown incompetent, allowing a "dangerous mongrel" like Black to slip through their fingers.
• In Knockturn Alley, some sneered openly at the Ministry, mocking them for losing the man they once boasted about catching.
• In political circles, the escape was already being used as ammunition in debates about whether Minister Fudge could maintain order.
Eira set the paper down and took a slow sip of tea.
Emma watched her, then spoke in a low, satisfied tone.
"As you said, my lady — it's done. The article went out this morning. Minister Fudge, when he read it, was reportedly livid. He sent letters to several pure-blood families, accusing them of leaking the information and giving him a thorough scolding."
Eira arched a brow.
"Did he send one to us?"
Emma shook her head. "No, my lady. Not a word."
A faint smile curved Eira's lips.
"Well, of course not. He still clings to the belief that neither I nor the White family would betray his little secret. It's almost endearing, his misplaced trust."
She set down her cup and leaned back.
"What other matters are there?"
Emma hesitated for only a moment before answering.
"You mentioned you wished to meet with Hermione Granger… that girl."
"Yes," Eira said softly, her expression thoughtful. "I must. Because of me, the poor child endured two days in a dark room, terrified, after being kidnapped. It's hardly her fault, yet she suffered for it. I at least want to… make amends."
Emma inclined her head. "Very well, my lady. I'll speak with her parents myself and bring her here."
"Thank you," Eira replied, her voice calm but final. "Please do so."
Emma gave a small, precise bow before leaving the breakfast room, the rustle of her heels fading into the quiet halls of the manor.
Eira remained seated, gazing once more at the screaming face of Sirius Black on the front page. She tapped her fingers lightly against the table.
A dangerous man, loose in Britain… and aiming for the Boy Who Lived. Let's see how this plays out.