Chapter Eight: Leaving Azkaban

Even Aurors from the Ministry of Magic or the top graduates from Hogwarts each year are only a small portion of wizards capable of mastering the advanced skill of wandless magic. Let alone summoning a Patronus with it.

It must be understood that the Patronus Charm is the oldest and most powerful form of extraordinary magic in the wizarding world. Although Rogue’s Patronus was incomplete, appearing only as a vague shadow, considering the harsh environment of Azkaban and Rogue’s age, everyone was astonished by his extraordinary magical talent.

Fudge deeply regretted the matter, wishing he had known earlier that such a gifted young wizard was imprisoned in Azkaban. No matter what measures were taken, they could not have been worse than the current situation.

When Dumbledore and his group appeared before him, Rogue knew he had won his gamble. He collapsed weakly into Jessica’s arms, a happy smile gracing his face.

“All right, child. The Dementors have been driven away,” Dumbledore said with a gentle smile, waving his Elder Wand to cast dazzling magic that made the entire cell dry and bright.

“Miss Rita, I believe young Rogue is not suitable to appear in the newspapers,” Dumbledore turned to Rita, his gaze sharp and intimidating.

“I… of course, protecting their privacy is the bottom line for us reporters,” Rita quickly nodded, burning the negatives into ashes with roaring flames.

“Child, your name is Rogue, isn’t it? Come with me…” Dumbledore reached out his hand, looking kindly at Rogue.

“Headmaster Dumbledore, I don’t think Hogwarts is suitable for Rogue right now,” Malfoy stepped forward, looking at Jessica and offering them another option.

Jessica looked at Dumbledore emotionally, about to speak, but Rogue was quicker to ask, “Mom, are you coming with me?”

Rogue held Jessica’s hand, not looking at Dumbledore or Malfoy. His gaze passed over them to the despairing Cornelius Fudge behind.

Being familiar with the original story, Rogue clearly understood that choosing Dumbledore meant distancing himself from pureblood families. Perhaps this could help him join Dumbledore’s Order of the Phoenix in the future, but the Ministry of Magic might only offer a simple apology in the end.

Yet, he had spent a full ten years in prison, transforming from a baby into a frail boy. Every day he lived in fear and anxiety alongside Dementors. Moreover, his mother Jessica now struggled even to stand and walk.

Rogue understood even more clearly that Dumbledore loved Harry Potter above all else. Choosing Dumbledore would only make him another Weasley. He loathed that kind of life reliant on others, hated being a companion or bodyguard, and despised the constant sacrifice for someone else’s glory.

As for Malfoy, Rogue harbored strong disdain. The pureblood ideology filled Lucius Malfoy’s already limited mind, aligning himself with the doomed Voldemort, proving his foolishness outweighed his cunning.

“I must have my own stance. Whether for myself, or for my mother,” Rogue silently vowed, staring at the utterly shocked Minister Fudge.

“Clever child,” Malfoy also turned to look, admiring the pureblood wizard’s ability to fight for maximum benefit at such a young age.

---

“Cough, cough…” Minister Fudge was startled by Rogue’s youthful voice, momentarily at a loss.

If it were only Rogue leaving, whether to Hogwarts or Malfoy Manor, he would have no objections—the Ministry was the last place suitable for them anyway. But Jessica was a Death Eater; procedurally, she could not leave Azkaban.

If they followed protocol and separated the poor mother and son, Fudge knew he would be forced to slink out of the Ministry the next day in disgrace.

Just as Fudge was unsure how to proceed, his assistant Albert tugged his sleeve and whispered secretly. Fudge’s eyes brightened. He stepped forward, standing between Dumbledore and Malfoy.

“Gentlemen, I believe what Jessica and her son need most now is treatment at St. Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries,” Minister Fudge said, not mentioning whether Jessica was innocent. After all, prisoner medical furlough was within procedures, and no wizard could object.

“Headmaster Dumbledore, I doubt their physical condition is suitable for Apparition.”

“I brought a flying carpet…”

“Miss Rita, you should know that flying carpets are prohibited transportation devices in Britain,” Malfoy shot her a glare. Rita could only purse her lips and secretly mark him down.

Seeing no objection from Dumbledore, Malfoy smiled brightly. “The Malfoy family has a magical ship in the North Sea used for transport.”

Dumbledore pondered for a moment, then said resignedly, “Mr. Malfoy, the magical ship you mentioned is a good idea.”

Malfoy summoned a wizard, gave a few instructions, and before long, a magnificent magical ship appeared by the shore. The hull bore the Malfoy family crest, the mast towering high, disguising its true purpose as a mere transport vessel.

The magical ship sailed steadily through the waves of the North Sea, with Azkaban Castle gradually shrinking until it disappeared within a cresting wave.

Inside the cabin, Dumbledore softly cast basic healing spells on Rogue and Jessica.

“Heal quickly,” he waved his wand, causing their wounds and bruises to fade gradually.

“Pure water like a spring,” a cool flow washed away thick grime.

“White balm smooths,” the swelling and discoloration also receded.

“Blood-replenishing potion,” Dumbledore offered fresh red potion for them to drink. Rogue felt the pain lessen and his spirit revive somewhat.

---

“Thank you, sir,” he weakly smiled at Dumbledore.

“Child, this is only basic treatment. True recovery will take time,” Dumbledore said kindly. “But now, knowing you are safe is enough to comfort me.”

The ship passed through layers of mist, and finally, the city skyline appeared on the horizon. Rogue gripped his mother’s hand as a shaft of golden light pierced through the thick clouds.

When they disembarked, Rita sent a fresh report back to the Daily Prophet. The wizarding world was anxious for news, and the newspaper sold out immediately.

“We Return by Ship”

On the storm-tossed sea, a magical ship slowly approached St. Mungo’s Hospital. The Malfoy family crest fluttered at the bow, symbolizing the involvement of an ancient pureblood family in this rescue.

I traveled aboard this ship, witnessing a steadfast commitment to life and love. The poor boy and his brave mother, after years of illegal imprisonment, were finally recognized by the world with the help of Warden Paul. Thanks to Dumbledore’s great mercy and the timely intervention of the Ministry of Magic, this grave miscarriage of justice has been corrected.

As the ship docked, the child’s weak figure leaned on his mother’s embrace, evoking my deepest sympathy. This child, who had suffered and struggled in Azkaban for years, could finally receive genuine care and treatment. At the same time, I am heartened by the Ministry’s courage and responsibility displayed.

Though the correction of this error was fraught with difficulty, the beautiful outcome surpasses all. This voyage across raging storms is a tribute to life and hope. When true justice prevails, our shared humanity shines forth. I sincerely hope this is but the first step toward happiness, with a brighter future ahead.

Reporter, Rita Skeeter

---

Upon learning the mother and son were at St. Mungo’s, countless owls arrived bearing gifts. The enthusiasm of the wizarding community overwhelmed the medical staff, who only managed to disperse them by saying the patients had already been discharged.

The hospital’s top floor held exclusive wards, some sponsored annually by the Malfoy family. The most luxurious ward was occupied by Rogue and Jessica. Though it had been filled with gifts, Rogue insisted they be returned one by one.

“Rogue, how is your recovery?” Lucius Malfoy smiled, clearly in good spirits.