Harry Potter and the Secret Treasures

Chapter 383: Azkaban

Dumbledore didn’t go on talking. He didn’t seem to want to explain to Evan and share his research findings on the bizarre nameplate.

He must have known something, and for some reason gave it to him.

As for what he said, with Evan’s involvement, the key to the treasure left by the Four Founders might have something to do with evil spirits.

This might be only part of the reason, but certainly not all.

Evan did not ask, Dumbledore had always been like this; if he didn’t want to say anything, no inquiry would bear fruit. Anyway, he would not harm him.

But what happened in the end was probably not what he hoped.

Evan sighed and collected the nameplate. He was ready to rely on his own strength to understand what it was and what it was useful for.

“Just touch the Portkey gently, don’t force it!” Sirius signalled to Evan to put his hand on the statue.

It started to be cold and the statue seemed to be alive.

Unknown fear rose deep in Evan’s heart, and he felt uncomfortable.

He nervously looked at the statue in front of him, watching the hood that the Dementor was about to pull back, and the looming mouth inside, in a trance.

He remembered the method of making a Dementor in the book “Secrets of the Darkest Art”. Not surprisingly, this magic was also invented by Herpo the Foul.

Would the Dementors be the creatures of another so-called evil god, just like those weird monsters with holes all over their heads that he had encountered in the Temple of the Centaurs?

Their abilities both acted directly on one’s soul.

And the Patronus Charm did harm all of them, which was a bit too much to be a coincidence.

At the thought of this, Evan shivered inexplicably.

“Get ready, I’ll count down from three and we’ll set off!” Dumbledore said, putting his hand on the robe of the Dementor statue. “Three, two, one!”

He had just finished, and quicker than words could tell, Evan felt that there was a hook behind his belly button and it snapped forward with irresistible momentum.

He left the ground with both feet and flew up.

He could feel Dumbledore and Sirius on both sides; their shoulders collided with him, and then separated again, far apart.

They flew forward like a gust of wind, and could see nothing clearly before their eyes.

Evan’s right hand clung to the Dementor statue, as if it had a magnetic force pulling him in, and then…

His feet landed heavily on the ground and he couldn’t stand up and fell.

Evan had tried Floo Network and Apparition before, and the travel experiences and feelings were different. They were all very uncomfortable, but none of them used the Portkey so badly.

“You still need to practice to maintain balance.” Sirius picked him up.

In front of Evan, there was a statue of the same Dementor.

However, they were definitely not in the Ministry of Magic now. The walls of the room around them were all rough black rocks.

The dilapidated floor had been decaying and it smelt of corruption.

In front of them was a narrow, small closed door.

This room was like the Shrieking Shack. No one had been there for a long time. It was covered with dust. Walking on the floor made a squeaky noise.

Evan suddenly felt very cold. The cold came from under his feet and kept creeping up.

He huddled, and then realized that the cold was brought about by the large number of Dementors gathering around him. Although he had not seen Dementors yet, all happy, optimistic and positive emotions in his heart dissipated rapidly with the temperature.

The cruel thought of death hovered in his mind, as if he could no longer feel happy, and life was meaningless.

The colours were disappearing from around him, and the world soon turned pale grey, matching Evan’s mood, terrible to the extreme.

Although the ground was dirty, he wanted to lie down like this and stay there forever.

By Evan’s side, Sirius reacted much more than he did.

He had spent too much time in Azkaban and was less resistant to Dementors than any other wizard. He curled up and squatted on the ground.

Sirius’s body was changing, automatically turning into a big black dog.

Animal emotions were hard for Dementors to understand and had more resistance than humans.

Sirius in his Animagus form stood up and seemed to be much better.

However, his legs were still trembling.

“Expecto Patronum!” Dumbledore called softly and waved his wand.

White light came out of his wand, dispelling the cold around him, and the temperature, colours, and senses returned to Evan. He lay on the ground and gasped heavily.

A small Phoenix Patronus was revolving around them. Every time it moved its wings, white silver stardust fell, looking very beautiful.

“Summon your Patronus, but pay attention to controlling your own magic.” Dumbledore said, “Use as little magic as possible; we are not expelling the Dementors, but doing our own defence. It is not very difficult; you can try this technique.”

“Expecto Patronum!” Evan pulled out his wand and tried to restrain his magic consumption.

A silver kitten appeared on his chest, much smaller than his usual Patronus, but the light on its body was more condensed.

“In addition to resisting Dementors, the Patronus has many unexpected uses.” Dumbledore smiled and said, “With some little magic spells, they can become messengers or directly condense entities to attack the enemy.”

Dumbledore talked to Evan about several new uses of the Patronus Charm, which opened up his mind to all sorts of new possibilities. Combining spells could indeed create new more powerful ones that were very different!

A few minutes later, they went on.

Sirius did not change back. He followed Evan as a big black dog.

Outside the narrow black door of the room was a hollow wooden plank road.

The biting cold wind came in and they were in a separate tower, soaring into the clouds.

They needed to cross the plank road in front them to reach the opposite Azkaban main building.

Like the decaying floor in the room, the planks on the plank road were all broken and swayed, as if they could fall at any time.

Evan carefully followed Dumbledore, narrowing the scope of his Patronus to about half a foot, and there was thick fog around the plank road.

He tried to look as far as he could, but he could see nothing.

They were surrounded by fog, and for a few seconds, Evan felt as if something had passed by him. He was not sure if it was a Dementor.

Although he couldn’t use his eyes, he could smell the salty taste of the sea water, and the sound of the waves beating against the rocks.

They were on an isolated island. This was Azkaban, the Wizarding Prison.