Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows

Chapter 125 My last name is Dumbledore

There was not even a single Dementor to be seen today in the usually gloomy sky above Azkaban—

Feeling the pressure from their natural enemies, these things hide faster than each other.

The goshawk flapped its wings twice, and the gray mist rose. When it dissipated again, the bird of prey turned into a human.

Anriel was level with the upper floors of Azkaban, standing in mid-air as if he were walking on flat ground.

He reached his left hand into his bosom and fumbled for a while before pulling out his wand and pointing it at a corner at the top of Azkaban.

Although most wizards nowadays are useless, Anriel has always had great respect for the ancient magic and magicians.

Next…

Anriel's lips moved, and in an instant, it seemed as if an invisible giant, holding a huge pestle, aimed at the sharp corner of Azkaban and hit it hard.

It was as if a shrill scream sounded in the air—

The stone corner flew away like the cap of a beer bottle, revealing a passage leading to the interior of Azkaban.

Still no Dementor dared to trouble Anriel...

Wise choice.

Anriel seemed to be walking down a long staircase, slowly walking into the gap from mid-air.

It seemed to be giving the prisoners held here... some time to react.

......

"Da da……"

The heels of the leather boots hit the bluestone slabs, making a crisp, abrupt sound that seemed very abrupt in the prison corridor.

The sound echoed throughout the empty corridor, provoking reactions from some living creatures that still had thoughts.

Prisoners in the severe punishment area all live in single cells.

Those who still had life force and could control their bodies to raise their heads raised their heads one after another; those who were able to think used the little energy left in their bodies to think about who Anriel was.

At least definitely not from the Ministry of Magic.

Only a very small number of people were able to use the remaining strength in their bodies to drag their broken bodies to the prison door and stare at this young living person they had never seen before.

Anriel walked slowly through the cells...

No Dementors tried to approach him, and even those that were originally "patrolling" fled away as if they were escaping.

If Voldemort only relied on what he could provide to the Dementors to induce them to work for him, then in comparison, Anriel's approach seemed much more straightforward.

He would give orders.

If you obey... and do your job well, you can get some "food".

If you don’t comply... hehe.

......

Soon, the corridor came to an end.

The final section of the prison only has a few rooms—

And the number of people living inside is even rarer.

"Ding--"

A crisp sound rang out, and Anriel's fingertips were still suspended in the air.

He had just knocked gently on the bar of an iron prison door.

The woman in the cell raised her disheveled and dirty face and looked at Anriel.

She was extremely lucid because she was extremely crazy.

What kind of face is that?

Objectively speaking, Bellatrix is not ugly—

The word ugly doesn't even touch her.

But there didn't seem to be anything on her face that could be called "beautiful".

There was a kind of temperament that destroyed any part of her that could be called "beautiful".

It was a hysterical "crazy" temperament.

She looked at Anriel with contempt, raised a thin and withered arm, and reached out to grab the railing door.

But the iron chain tied around her wrists prevented her from doing so.

After she stretched out her hand, the chain shortened a few inches and seemed to have shrunk a circle. Anriel could clearly see that the shackles seemed to be embedded in Bellatrix's flesh.

Anriel thought about it and walked to the nearby cell door.

A tall, thin, haggard man was looking at him through the window.

Anriel couldn't help but look at him twice more——

He was completely different from the one Dumbledore remembered.

Rodolphus Lestrange.

The biggest change in his impression is his temperament.

The original madness and hysteria that was not much different from his wife's has now turned into a kind of silence...

Dead silence.

Rodolphus's hair was now a drab gray--the same color as the fur of the sinister old wolf.

For a man who had been in prison for seventeen years, tidying up his robe, or prison uniform, like an old suit every day was a very time-consuming, laborious and meaningless task.

But Rodolphus did just that.

In stark contrast to his "crazy" wife who lives across the wall from him, his temperament is that of "depressing" and "terrifying" silence.

He was like... an ancient corpse that had been sleeping in a tomb for thousands of years.

But what is hidden under this absolute silence?

Rodolphus' eyes were fixed on Anriel -

He had already been told the answer.

......

Pious.

But this piety is a tribute to the devil.

In Rodolphus' eyes, there seemed to be two balls of dark flames burning that would never go out.

Only death can dim their luster, but I am afraid that it will never extinguish them forever.

Anriel seemed to have an illusion at that moment.

That is, the person in front of him was not a crazy Death Eater who had done endless evil and had blood on his hands, but an old priest who had lost his faith and was in a deep state of "firmness" yet "confusion".

Of course Anriel knew that this was an illusion.

No one can deny the evil that Rodolphus had done...

but……

interesting.

The corners of Anriel's mouth curled up unconsciously.

"Rodolphus Lestrange, Bellatrix Lestrange..."

Anriel read in a low voice.

Rodolphus did not react at all, still staring at Anriel with his burning eyes.

Bella's reaction was quite intense...

Her eyes bulged slightly, and she looked at Anriel with surprise and undisguised malice.

Most of the few remaining people in the prison area also turned their attention to this...

In fact, the prisoners locked in the deepest place were much more conscious than the people in the Ministry of Magic imagined.