When that grim fortress, looming in the thin sea fog, faintly appeared on the horizon, Snape lifted his wrist.
The dial of his watch was overcast, its hands pointing just past five.
"It's still early," he said, lowering his arm. His voice was faint against the sea wind. "According to plan, we move at six."
The three ceased the propulsion charm on the raft, letting it drift silently amid the heaving waves.
No words were needed. That familiar chill, rising from the depths of the soul, came rolling toward them from Azkaban. Fortunately, the Dementors had not sensed their hidden presence and made no move to approach.
They endured the onslaught of despair through sheer willpower, resisting the suffocating weight pressing upon their minds, refraining for now from summoning their Patronuses.
Minute by minute, time slipped away. Snape's eyes returned to his watch. The hands finally and heavily aligned upon the mark of six.
"It's time," he said.
They raised their wands once more. The raft surged forward, cleaving through the black water straight toward the fortress.
As the distance shrank, the chill intensified into something sharp and bone-deep.
The dark shapes that had been wandering aimlessly above the sea suddenly turned, drawn as if by flame. From the fortress towers they came gliding down, cloaked in howling wind, diving toward the small raft below.
Snape flicked his wand sharply. The vast invisible tarp covering the raft was ripped away in an instant, revealing the three figures beneath. They became the only point of light amid the endless ocean, an irresistible lure to the swarming Dementors.
The sky was filled with flapping black hoods and tattered robes.
"Expecto Patronum!"
Snape's voice cut through the roaring wind.
In the next instant, a massive serpent of pure silver light burst from his wand, soaring upward into the darkness.
Its body was colossal and solid, radiating a fierce, comforting brilliance that swept away both shadow and cold.
Where the serpent passed, the very air seemed to shriek and sizzle.
The small patch of sea was bathed in light. The Dementors that had been diving toward them halted midair, stunned by the sudden blaze.
The eyeless voids beneath their hoods recoiled as if seared. Then, as if fear itself had finally found them, they gave soundless screams and turned to flee.
But the serpent was faster.
Like a living being possessed of intelligence, its huge head lunged forward, jaws yawning wide, and struck into the retreating swarm of shadowy creatures.
The moment its silver light touched the leading Dementors, thick black smoke poured from their tattered cloaks. Their distorted forms writhed and convulsed in agony, struggling to escape the searing radiance.
Within seconds, several had completely unraveled, collapsing into charred, powerless rags that fluttered down to vanish into the freezing sea below.
Emmeline had raised her wand, ready to conjure her Patronus, but froze. She stared, dazed, at the storm of silver fire raging in the air, her grip slackening.
The overwhelming force and speed of Snape's Patronus far exceeded anything she had ever imagined.
"It's all right, you'll get used to it, Emmeline," growled Moody, still channeling magic to keep the raft steady. "I've seen it once before, though back then, it wasn't nearly this monstrous."
In Emmeline's brief distraction, the raft's speed faltered noticeably, their combined magic momentarily disrupted.
A shred of a Dementor's cloak, still faintly smoking, twirled down from above and landed wetly upon the planks just before Snape.
With the same disdain one might show to dust, he nudged it away with his boot, letting it slide off into the sea.
"Don't slow down," he said. "Speed up."
Startled back to herself, Emmeline raised her wand again, focusing intently.
The raft jerked forward violently, then surged ahead once more, slicing through the waves toward Azkaban's black stone keep.
Above them, the Dementors that failed to flee fast enough disintegrated midair, falling apart into soft fragments before being swallowed by the sea.
Those drifting black remnants became the grim backdrop for their final approach.
The raft slammed hard into the rotting wooden piles of the dock with a dull thud.
All three leapt nimbly onto the slick, damp stone shore.
Moody glanced around, momentarily struck silent. He drew in a deep breath of the salt-laden air, strangely "clean" for this cursed place, and rasped, "This is the first time I've ever breathed air this 'normal' in Azkaban."
He turned to look back at the sea.
The vast silver serpent was still relentlessly chasing the fleeing Dementors. Wherever it passed, the dark fog shredded apart, and even the deadened sky seemed to regain some clarity.
"Let's go in," said Snape, already striding toward the heavy black-iron gate of the prison.
With a motion of his wand, the thick chains fell away with a groaning clatter.
Inside, Azkaban was the same as it had been for centuries, cold, damp, and reeking of mildew. Yet, as Moody had said, without the Dementors' constant psychic assault, the place, while oppressive, no longer crushed the will entirely.
They hurried down the dim corridor, their footsteps echoing off the stone walls.
Rows of iron-barred cells flanked them, each as dark and silent as a tomb.
Moody's magical eye spun wildly while his other swept over each empty cell. The scarred lines of his face darkened with each glance until he was flushed nearly purple with fury.
"Empty? This one too!" His restrained snarl echoed down the passage. "Where are the scum I put in here myself? Those Death Eater murderers, those dark wizards, gone! Bloody Ministry, they've cleared out the whole damn prison!"
"The Ministry has already become Voldemort's reflection," Snape said coldly, pausing as his eyes caught on a familiar cell. "Mulciber isn't here either."
As they searched swiftly onward, Emmeline, at the front, suddenly gasped. "Professor! Someone's here!"
Snape strode forward at once, raising his wand to cast light into the cell.
In the corner of the small stone chamber, a thin figure was curled on the cold floor.
She wore a tattered prison robe, her frail body trembling faintly. Her hair, once bright, now looked as if bleached and dusted gray, dry and lifeless.
Her face was buried in her arms, her exposed skin pale and sickly under the faint light.
Snape pointed his wand at the lock, there was a click, and the latch sprang open.
He stepped inside, and at that moment, his will summoned his Patronus.
Far above the sea, the great silver serpent broke off its hunt and, in a streak of light, burst through the walls of Azkaban, returning to his side in an instant.
The spectral creature coiled around him once, then shrank to a smaller form, a glowing ribbon of light that wound itself gently around the unconscious Tonks, wrapping her in warmth and driving away the lingering chill.
Snape was about to kneel, but Emmeline had already recognized the girl.
"Nymphadora!" she cried, squeezing past him to kneel beside the young witch, lifting her carefully into her arms.
At the touch of warmth, Tonks's eyelids fluttered weakly open.
The once lively, mischievous eyes were now clouded and vacant, but when her blurred vision settled on Snape and Moody, a faint light flickered there.
Snape immediately drew out a large block of chocolate, broke off a thick piece, and held it out to her. "Eat. It will help."
Tonks's cracked lips moved soundlessly. She didn't take the chocolate, but instead mustered her strength to whisper, trembling and tearful, "Professor Snape... Mr. Moody... please... please save my mum and dad... they..."
"We will," Snape said, his hand still extended. "But first, eat this. Then we'll go."
Tonks nodded weakly, her fingers trembling as she pointed deeper into the corridor.
Snape broke off half the chocolate and pressed it firmly into her hand. "Eat."
She clutched it feebly but didn't lift it to her mouth.
There was no time to wait.
Emmeline, holding the weakened Tonks, followed as they moved deeper into the prison, their footsteps echoing along the cold stone walls.
Most cells remained empty; now and then, they passed a few gaunt, unrecognizable prisoners slumped in corners.
"Mother...?"
Tonks stirred suddenly in Emmeline's arms, her frail voice barely a whisper.
Almost at once, a woman in the nearby cell, who had lain motionless, facing the wall, jerked violently, then scrambled up with desperate strength, clawing toward the bars.
Her face, pale and dirt-streaked yet faintly noble beneath the grime, pressed against the cold iron.
"Nymphadora? Nymphadora!" she cried, her voice breaking with disbelief. "My child! Is that you?!"
"Mum!" Tonks tried to struggle free, but Emmeline held her gently still.
"Andromeda!" Snape lifted his wand and the cell door swung open.
He and Moody rushed in, helping Andromeda out.
The instant she crossed the threshold, she tore free of their support, and Emmeline quickly placed Tonks into her arms.
Andromeda clutched her daughter tightly, tears streaming down her face, her whole body shaking with emotion and exhaustion.
Little Tonks raised the chocolate shakily toward her mother's mouth, her faint voice soothing, "Don't cry, Mum... chocolate... Professor Snape gave it..."
Andromeda sobbed harder, holding her daughter even tighter.
"There's more," Snape said, breaking off another piece and handing it over.
Andromeda took it through tears and carefully fed her daughter a small bite.
The faintest trace of color returned to Tonks's pale gray hair.
"Where's Ted?" Snape asked at last.
"Below... separated... and others, too," Andromeda panted, pointing toward the steep stairway leading deeper down.
They descended. With each level, they checked every cell.
"Wait!" Andromeda gasped as they crossed a broader corridor. Her eyes fixed on a man slumped against the wall inside one of the cells. "That man, I've seen him before! At the Ministry's Muggle-born Registration Committee! He's a Muggle-born wizard-"
Snape and Moody exchanged a glance. The man lifted his head slightly, too weak to speak, his eyes empty of hope.
"When we come back," Snape said, "we'll free them all. First, we find our own."
At last, in the far corner of the lowest level, they found Ted Tonks.
The unshaven man in a torn prison robe looked up weakly, and when his eyes found his wife holding their daughter, they filled instantly with tears.
He staggered forward and wrapped both of them in a shaking embrace.
"No time to waste," Snape cut in after a moment, pulling two spare wands from his robes and handing them to Ted and Andromeda. "Take these."
"Thank you," Ted murmured, clutching the wand. "We meet again... Can I fight with you?"
"Of course, Ted," Snape said, nodding and patting his shoulder. "It's not too late."
They soon found Frank and Alice Longbottom as well.
Fortunately, neither had suffered additional torment. Though weak, they were still conscious and lucid.
Snape gave each a wand, and they began to withdraw.
Since none of the cells contained the missing dark wizards, Snape unlocked every occupied one they passed, freeing all those still breathing.
Their numbers swelled to more than ten. Yet trust could not be granted freely; beyond chocolate, Snape offered no wands to the strangers.
As they led the ragged, staggering, but hopeful group toward the exit, barely a dozen yards from the gate, voices echoed from beyond.
Snape raised his hand, halting the others.
The speakers outside had heard them too; the murmuring stopped.
"Listen, prisoners inside!" a voice bellowed from beyond the iron gate. "You're surrounded! Drop your wands, disarm yourselves, and surrender immediately! I repeat, drop your wands and surrender now!"
The warning reverberated through the stone halls of Azkaban.