Her surprise at the existence of a ghost in Azkaban was fleeting. Certain that this must be the ghost her 'master' had mentioned, Bellatrix spoke.
"You. Do you know anything about Harry Potter?"
Sebastian frowned and retorted, "Harry Potter? How would I know what that is?"
It had been over ninety years since Sebastian had become a ghost. Alone in this remote cemetery in Azkaban, he naturally had no way of knowing what was happening in the world.
His memory was still frozen in the year 1897.
Hearing his answer, Bellatrix's face hardened. "You don't know Potter? You're not lying, are you?"
"What would I gain from lying? Besides, even if I were, what could you do about it?"
Sebastian mocked Bellatrix with his translucent body.
Indeed, magic that could affect a ghost was extremely limited. Aside from certain dark arts like the Basilisk's petrifying gaze, it was fair to say there were almost none.
And Bellatrix, without even a wand, could perform none of them.
Left speechless, Bellatrix could only grit her teeth and glare at Sebastian for a moment.
Then, in her mind, the voice of her 'master' spoke again.
[Righ… pock… et.]
The voice was crackling as if with static, but it was enough for Bellatrix to understand its meaning.
Come to think of it, she realized the clothes she was wearing had been changed.
At first, she hadn't noticed because they weren't much different from her prison uniform, but these clothes had pockets, which the uniform lacked.
As the 'master' in her head had instructed, Bellatrix rummaged through her right pocket and found a small vial. It was the type that could be opened and closed with a switch.
She didn't know what it was, but it was a gift personally bestowed upon her by the great Dark Lord. It would surely be of help.
Without a shred of doubt, she pressed the switch on the vial. With a *click*, a sucking sound could be heard.
*—Whoooooosh!*
"Hmm, wait, something feels strange…"
Before he could finish his sentence, the ghost before her vanished with a *whoosh*.
With a dawning suspicion, Bellatrix held the vial in her hand up to the light. She could see a silvery-white substance sloshing around inside.
*Could it be… did this thing trap the ghost in a bottle?*
A shiver of ecstasy ran down her spine, and Bellatrix let out a low gasp.
Her great master had surely, finally, become able to command even ghosts!
Believing Voldemort had reached an even higher plane of existence, Bellatrix's face flushed as she muttered, "O, King of Darkness! The day of your great triumph is not far off!"
As she shook the vial, she thought she could hear a sound from within. Was the ghost still conscious inside the bottle?
A brief question arose, but it was unimportant.
She must not question the items given to her by her 'master.' With that thought, she placed the vial in her pocket and secured it tightly.
A wicked smile spread across Bellatrix's face as she cackled. "Alright, Potter. Before the King of Darkness returns, I will sever your head and offer it upon his altar."
First… yes. She would escape this Dementor-infested Azkaban. With the commotion of a giant hole being blown in the wall, Aurors were sure to arrive soon to assess the situation.
And even without a wand, it would be a simple matter for her, a free woman, to kill an Auror or two.
After acquiring a wand, Bellatrix let out her signature chilling laugh and flamboyantly carved a message into the outer wall of Azkaban.
[NEXT IS HARRY POTTER!]
Bellatrix's reason for writing it was simple. She wanted Harry Potter to feel terror at her return.
She wanted him to tremble in fear every night before bed, wondering when she would come for his head.
And in the end, she would offer that head on the king's altar!
Trembling with her own conviction, Bellatrix eventually vanished from Azkaban.
And so, Bellatrix Lestrange gained her freedom.
.
.
.
Meanwhile, in the Azkaban that Bellatrix had left behind.
*—Squeak, squeak!*
With a rustling sound, a single rat scurried out from the same place.
It would be quite some time before anyone noticed that a single rat had escaped from the broken wall.
***
And now, turning the clock back to the present. At another Black family home.
*—Ding-dong.*
Sirius Black, now officially exonerated, flung the door open with a confident expression quite unlike his old self and welcomed us.
"My goodness, Harry! You're finally here!"
Seeing Sirius with his arms outstretched, Harry gave a wry smile and ran into his embrace.
"Sirius, congratulations on having your name cleared."
"Haha, it's all thanks to you two, isn't it!"
Sirius laughed heartily as he ushered us inside.
As we stepped through the door, a house-elf with a blackened locket around his neck came trotting over and bowed his head to us.
"Master Harry, Master Aisen, welcome."
Of course, after greeting us politely, he didn't forget to shoot a glare at Sirius.
Harry greeted him cheerfully. "Kreacher, it's been a while!"
Kreacher bowed his head as if overwhelmed.
Since we gave Kreacher the locket as a Christmas present, his attitude toward Harry and me had changed dramatically.
While he had shown us respect before, after receiving the locket, his deference had transformed into an excessive loyalty, as if he were serving a god.
However, as if the law of equivalent exchange existed in the world, the more his loyalty to us grew, the deeper his contempt for Sirius seemed to become.
Well, it didn't seem like Sirius particularly wanted Kreacher's loyalty anyway, so I supposed it didn't matter.
A short while later, we all sat down together for dinner.
Kreacher's onion soup was so good it surpassed even Deek's cooking, and the food on the table vanished in the blink of an eye.
Even Sirius was moved to say, "Ha. I've eaten all sorts of fine food since my name was cleared, but it seems nothing can beat a dish this damned house-elf makes when he's actually trying."
At Sirius's words, Kreacher shot him a glare, but he also held his head high, clearly proud to have served us a good meal.
After dinner, Harry began to recount the stories of his second year at Hogwarts to the long-unseen Sirius.
"So, the Heir of Slytherin was…"
Naturally, Sirius was astonished by Harry's adventure.
"Good heavens, Harry! I'd heard the Heir of Slytherin had appeared, but what a year you've had. You really do seem to experience in one year what most people go through in a lifetime."
The amusing part was that through it all, you could see a hint of pride in his expression, as if he saw his own father, James Potter, in Harry's adventurous spirit.
"…But did you really have to tell me you used the Imperius Curse?"
Of course, he also felt some conflict over Harry's advanced magical skills.
Nevertheless, Sirius's nature was to always take Harry's side when the law and Harry's actions clashed, and because Harry knew this, he could speak so freely.
Seeing Harry's smug grin, Sirius gave up and let out a hearty laugh. "Alright, what's one more Imperius Curse at this point? And from what I hear, that Lockhart fellow deserved it."
"Exactly. And I shot dozens of Killing Curses at Tom Riddle this year, so what's an Imperius Curse?"
"No, Aisen. For heaven's sake, you need to set an example as a master."
Watching Sirius's horrified reaction, I decided it was best not to mention threatening Albus with Unforgivable Curses during our recent training.
Though, Albus, with his experience, was quite good at dodging them. Not that I was actually trying to hit him.
Then, Sirius's voice suddenly turned serious. "So, you saw the newspaper, I take it?"
"The news about Bellatrix Lestrange escaping?"
"Yes. That."
Sensing that Harry and I were both looking at him with 'so what's the problem?' expressions, Sirius sighed and elaborated. "Of course, I know you're an incredibly powerful wizard, Aisen, but that woman, Bellatrix, is utterly vicious."
"Vicious?"
"Yes. To put it simply, she's a madwoman. She might attack Harry's friends, one by one, just to chip away at him."
"You seem to know a lot about Bellatrix."
"Of course. Annoyingly, she's my cousin."
Ah.
Listening to Sirius's explanation, I could roughly understand his point.
Even if we, who were capable enough to stop the Heir of Slytherin, could easily defeat her, we couldn't possibly prevent every single attack on the people around us.
Hearing this, I let out a smirk. "Sirius. I understand what you mean, but you're worrying too much."
"Why do you say that?"
"Have you forgotten who the headmaster of Hogwarts is?"
At my words, Sirius continued with a sour expression. "I never thought I'd hear those words from your mouth… But isn't that the same Hogwarts, protected by Professor Dumbledore, that's been attacked for two years straight?"
"This year will be different. Probably."
Because if Albus truly doesn't want to die next year, he'll do his job properly.
***
Meanwhile, at Hogwarts.
With the eyes of a sage, grown wiser after overcoming the threshold of life and death several times, Dumbledore unfolded the newspaper.
[Bellatrix Lestrange Escapes! Azkaban Outer Wall Half-Destroyed!]
[Current Minister for Magic, Cornelius Fudge, has declared that strong protective measures will be placed at locations Bellatrix Lestrange is likely to target. ...]
He took off his spectacles, placed them on his desk, and gently massaged the bridge of his nose.
Then, he spoke to Fawkes, who was in the room. "Fawkes. It seems the world just can't leave Harry alone."
*BANG!*
The door to the headmaster's office flew open, and Deputy Headmistress McGonagall rushed in. "Headmaster, you must see this. An official notice from the Ministry…"
"I already know, Professor McGonagall."
Before the Ministry sent its official notice, Dumbledore had already received a private call from Fudge that morning.
The trembling Fudge had eventually told him that he was sending Dementors to guard Hogwarts, Bellatrix's most likely destination.
It was a laughable notion.
It seemed it was time to remind the Ministry of Magic once again why Hogwarts was called the safest place in the world.
Dumbledore said, "Professor McGonagall. Please send a reply to the Ministry."
His usual playful demeanor was gone, replaced by an aura of authority that sent a shiver down McGonagall's spine.
The very reason she had always followed Dumbledore stood before her now.
"Tell them we do not require Dementors. That there is no need to worry, for the headmaster of this school is Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore."
This year, there would be no reason for him to be reprimanded by his sunbae.
Of that, Dumbledore was certain.
***