A Jornada Mágica Começa em Azkaban
Em 1991, o mundo mágico aguardava o retorno do senhor Potter. Na mesma época, no Mar do Norte, Rog, que havia sido injustamente preso por onze anos, deixou Azkaban. "Salvar o mundo? Essa é a tarefa do
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In July 1991, raging waves battered the fortress of Azkaban. An owl, taking flight from the Scottish Highlands, arrived bearing a letter inscribed with a quill of acceptance.
“Others go from the gate to the prison, a process of being shaped by incarceration. But I—born purely for prison.” Rogue swept the corridor, broom in hand, clearing away rubbish.
He had grown up here since childhood, without any official status, and not listed among the registered inmates. From the moment he awoke, he found himself in the fifth college of Hogwarts, the advanced academy for wizards: Azkaban.
Outside the castle, a weary little creature flapped its wings, terrified, avoiding the Dementors drifting and swirling in midair. Trembling, it alighted on the window sill, its wide orange eyes peering inside. It didn’t understand why there would be a student wizard here. As a Dementor approached, it panicked, dropped the letter, and fled.
Paul, the caretaker, was inside, stirring a cauldron. The battered vessel was filled with a blue-green paste that periodically bubbled up with heat.
“Damn the Ministry of Magic! Damn Millicent! Damn the Wizengamot!” He waved his wand vigorously, muttering spells under his breath.
The officials in London never cared about this place, only dumping their refuse here. They never increased the staff, nor allowed transfers. Damn Azkaban—it was left to him alone, the sole wizard caretaker. Poor Paul was unaware that the current Minister was now Fudge.
“My transfer letter?” Paul caught sight of the letter drop