From Azkaban to Hogwarts

Chapter 5 Munton couldn't help himself

Life in prison was dull and tasteless.

Life would have been flat without the dementors' regular daily meals - but sadly, no prisoner would have welcomed a dementor for a bit of excitement.

Even a little bit of new information is valuable to the inmates here, and if a newspaper comes in, the greedy inmates will not even let go of the advertisements in the cracks, let alone the new things that may appear in the cell.

The prisoners' own affairs are only those old and rotten grains, which cannot escape from the repeated patterns of stealing and robbing. Those who cheat, abduct, kill and set fire to others were quite surprised when they first came. After squatting for two months, they would know why they came in, even without the desire to inquire.

Every once in a while a strange criminal would bring a New Year's thrill to the nearby cells -- like the one next door to William who had broken the Magical Creatures Act half a month earlier.

Normally, people who violate this law harm endangered species or secretly farm animals that are prohibited from private farming, but not this one.

He had done his research and sent himself to Azkaban for a long sentence -- he would have been with the felons if he had not been called in.

According to himself, he has published 13 papers on centaurs, including "Research on Centaur Reproduction Behavior" and "Research on Centaur Feeding Behavior." "Centaur Embryonic Development Research" and a series of books.

When the papers became famous, the angry Centaurs intervened with the Ministry of Magic, and this one was prosecuted and sent to Azkaban - with Ministry officials reportedly having a hard time finding a basis for prosecution.

This story has been the topic of conversation in Azkaban for a whole week, and it shows just how short of daily entertainment there is.

Today, however, inmates have a new form of entertainment -- last night William and his cell's approach to the new has spread throughout the minor penal block through adjacent cells.

This new ritual of making a confession at a time when there's nothing to do has been adopted by almost every cell.

Azkaban was an undemocratic place. There was no one who didn't want to spend eight men in a cell trying to make a new man entertain seven old men. As for the new man, he had better, and if he didn't, someone else would teach him to do it.

When William gave up studying the sudden arrival of the system to study magic, he was surprised to receive a barrage of system messages.

【 A magical creature approves of you, and you get a treasure chest. 】

...

A similar message was sent twenty-one times, and the twenty-one crates were uniformly shabby, nailed up with rotting pieces of wood, as if a gust of wind could break the outside wood.

These were even scrumptious chests than the ones Munton had to offer, with only two cards each, and the skills attached to them were unbelievably bad.

Despite the different names and images above, nineteen of the twenty-one cards were theft related, with an incredible chance of success -- if Willem was right, the boxes were all from inmates who were being manipulated in various cells.

Because those card profiles come with the suffix (resentment) or something.

As for the remaining two cards, one was the one with a certain probability of success, and the other was the only one that wasn't a human being -- a blue card with a blue meal coupon painted on it.

[Meal coupons; you can use them to offset the cost of a card use]

It's about the only thing of any value in these twenty boxes.

At the same time, William had a rough idea of how to get more boxes and whether they could contain only cards about people.

But it is of no damn use

Trapped in his cell, he doesn't have the ability to swipe more chests, and the system doesn't help him much at this point -- unless he's willing to risk being hunted, and not necessarily succeed.

William folded up the system and went back to studying magic.

...

Once a month, it's a wild day.

William again refused the elder's kind invitation and began to wander among the prisoners.

"Massaged! A massage with potions, two chocolates at real prices, fair trade for women at half price!"

"Galleons changed his cigarettes! One Galleons for a whole cigarette, and three sickles for a butt!"

"Can for newspaper, four sheets a can four sheets a can, cheap, cheap!"

Willem felt something close to a normal human market, as the muffled shouts were just right -- just enough to be heard by the inmates but not reach the ears of the overtime batters.

Some of these deals aren't seen on the regular market, but they're special Azkaban deals.

But there isn't another ancient deal for humans other than killers -- it's happened before, but too much joy in the air has caught the attention of the dementors, who can't stop anyone when they can't help themselves.

He is said to be anxiously checking the advertisements in various magic newspapers and magazines after his release from prison.

While Willem was wandering around, Munton, who had been cleaning toilets for a month and on duty to alert dementors, sneaked into a corner of the prison.

The batters, who were happily discussing how much gold they could get for their worthless items on the watch, changed their faces when they saw the prisoner approaching -- they were not afraid of being sued for this, but mainly because the new prisoner had violated their authority.

Almost instantly, Munton was possessed by magic.

By the time he yelled out "I want to see Mad-Eye Moody," the batter had already kicked over.

"How dare you call Lord Moody's name?"

The tall, lanky hitter looked dismissive -- Mad-Eye Moody was an Auror, an ace in the Ministry's ace in the hole, an unattainable figure among the hitters, who, though retired, were still occasionally called in to give lessons to the hitters, with a high reputation.

They may not be making money on the batter's side, but that doesn't stop them from worshipping Mad-Eye.

"I've agreed to be an informant. Please let Mad-Eye know."

The first two batters looked at each other and nodded.

A guy with few informants can't do it -- it's not unusual to get more information by going easy on a few people for less serious crimes.

"I'm Mundungus Fletcher, Mad-Eye knows me," he said.

Monton took a long breath and said quickly to the batter.

He had known Mad-Eye for a long time and had helped Dumbledore through him -- but the work was too dangerous, and this time he had no desire to contact Mad-Eye, which was a far cry from the dangers.

Unfortunately, after a month of living in Azkaban, he suddenly realized that working for Mad-Eye and his crew might actually be a good idea.