Chapter Seven: Hello, Dumbledore

“You make a fair point,” Dumbledore nodded. “I will consider your suggestion. But as we discussed earlier, the most important thing is to respect the child’s own choice. Hogwarts’ gates will always be open to all peace-loving witches and wizards.”

Malfoy glared fiercely at him, then quickly adjusted his demeanor. “You’re right. As a Hogwarts alumnus, the Malfoy family’s magazine, Wizarding Wars, is willing to contribute to this matter.”

Dumbledore narrowed his eyes and pondered for a moment. “Thank you for your kindness, Mr. Malfoy. Now, let us go see Minister Fudge. After all, the priority is to get the child out of Azkaban.”

Dumbledore knew the storm was just beginning. The pureblood wizards, led by the Malfoy family, would never give up this opportunity to strike at the Ministry of Magic.

Entering his office, Dumbledore frowned at the disheveled furniture. “Restore everything to its original state.”

“Albus, you’re here,” Minister Fudge sighed in relief upon seeing Dumbledore, visibly relaxing.

“Fudge, the most important thing now is not assigning blame but rescuing the child from Azkaban. By any measure, he is innocent.”

“What if the report is false?” Fudge clung to his last shred of stubbornness.

If the Ministry acknowledged the report, he would bear the brunt of the backlash, not only facing scorn throughout the magical community but risking his position as Minister.

“Even if there’s a one in a million chance that an innocent child is imprisoned in such a dreadful place, we cannot turn a blind eye.”

Dumbledore spoke earnestly, “Trust me, launching an investigation immediately is the wise choice. If the report is true, we can promptly correct a tragic mistake; if false, it will quell unnecessary anger and panic among wizards. The key is to take action, not avoid the problem.”

Fudge fell into thought. At that moment, an Auror rushed in, breathless. “Minister, new development! We’ve received a reply from the Azkaban warden confirming the boy is still alive!”

Fudge’s expression changed; his flicker of hope was mercilessly extinguished. After a long pause, he sighed heavily. “Very well, Albus, it seems we must act. I will arrange a team to go to Azkaban immediately. If the boy is alive, we will transfer him to St. Mungo’s Hospital at once. We must also conduct a thorough investigation to uncover the cause of this miscarriage of justice…”

A faint smile of relief appeared on Dumbledore’s face. “We should go ourselves—after all, this concerns a child’s life.”

“You’re right. I’ll prepare a Portkey.” Fudge gave a knowing glance to Special Assistant Albert. Since the matter was now irreversible, they might as well use this as an opportunity to stage a spectacle and restore the Ministry’s image.

Not long after, Dumbledore, Fudge, Malfoy, and others arrived at Azkaban. Rita had not left yet; she watched the group arrive through the Portkey with keen interest and took photos of their arrival.

---

“Ms. Skeeter, thank you for your reporting.” Minister Fudge quickly approached Rita Skeeter. “Your article saved a child, corrected an error, and displayed the true spirit of journalism. Your courage and contribution deserve a Merlin Medal.”

Rita’s eyes widened in surprise. A Merlin Medal! The honor bestowed by the Order of Merlin for contributions to the wizarding world—she hadn’t expected to receive such recognition.

But she quickly grasped Fudge’s meaning. The Minister intended to silence her with this medal, preventing her from pursuing the story further. If she made some minor adjustments to her article, her name would appear on the list of honorees.

“Minister Fudge, this is merely my duty. There may be darkness in the magical world, but justice will prevail. It is sometimes delayed, but it ultimately triumphs over darkness.”

“You’re right, Ms. Skeeter. Leave the rest to the Ministry. We will conduct a thorough investigation and release the findings promptly.”

“Justice delayed? How ironic!” Fudge cursed inwardly but wore a face full of admiration. “When the time comes, I hope Ms. Skeeter will write a special interview.”

“Rest assured, Minister, I will write an excellent piece on this matter.”

Under watchful eyes, Fudge struck a deal with Rita, unspoken but understood by all present. They listened as Paul recounted the story of Jessica and her son, then proceeded deeper into Azkaban.

---

“Rogue, they’re here. Remember what I taught you?” Jessica said solemnly, hearing the noise outside.

“Mom, I’m taking you out with me.” Rogue could wait another ten years to escape Azkaban for himself, but Jessica’s frail health meant staying was a death sentence.

“Listen to me and study well,” Jessica shook her head. Her best hope was for her son to get out of Azkaban; she held little expectation for herself.

“No.” Rogue stubbornly turned his head as the display showed his magical power had fully recovered.

Rogue Travis
Magic Power: 2.3/2.3
Mental Strength: 12
Talents: Dark Affinity, Strong Will, Night Vision

Skills: Wandless Magic, Glowing Flicker Lv.3 (36/50), Patronus Lv.2 (0/10)

Rogue sighed helplessly at the simulated life interface. His magical power was too low; activating the simulation would cause him to lose the ability to carry out his plan.

At this point, he had no choice but to gamble. For himself and his mother Jessica, he would stake his life without hesitation!

Rogue stood and recalled his happiest memories—both from his past life and the beautiful life he imagined with Jessica. His dark aura transformed, every pore radiating joy and happiness.

The warmth of his inner joy was like a blazing light deep in the abyss, stirring the Dementors of Azkaban into a frenzy. They desperately wished to extinguish this light now, swarming madly to drain his emotions and soul.

“Rogue, what are you doing? Stop!” Jessica cried in terror.

“Trust me!” Rogue firmly grasped Jessica’s hand, facing the charging Dementors with an irresistible force in his voice: “Patronus!”

In an instant, a silver light appeared before Rogue. It was ethereal yet an unbreakable barrier, firmly blocking the Dementors’ furious assault.

Meanwhile, Fudge and Dumbledore’s expressions changed dramatically. Dementors were rioting at this moment. Rita, sensing the shift, raised her camera and began taking pictures.

Dumbledore looked sharply at Lucius, who hurried to explain, “Albus, I see no need to intervene. Our interests align in rescuing Rogue.”

Dumbledore nodded and scanned Fudge and Old Batty, who were also casting spells to repel Dementors but had no motive to intervene.

“Patronus!” Dumbledore drew the Elder Wand and summoned his own guardian.

A vast silver-white phoenix burst from the wand’s tip, spreading its magnificent wings with grace and solemnity. The phoenix’s melodious cry, full of hope and warmth, dispersed the frenzied Dementors of Azkaban.

Dumbledore pushed open the cell door; the silver-white light in front of Rogue continued to shimmer. Everyone’s mouths fell open in shock, even Rita, seeing it for the second time. Only now did they believe the magical photos were real—a mere eleven-year-old child wielding wandless magic and able to summon his own Patronus.