Chapter 5: Provocation, but Her Declaration
1086 Words
Like silver-white jade, ignited with pure, flawless water, with every graceful dance it performed, it brought sweet rain to the world.
This was her phoenix, the one she once had.
She named that beautiful boy Lyall, with wings like crimson clouds, radiant and dazzling. Its cry was like shattered jade, resonating with the most melodious rhythm of nature.
It was her best companion.
Now, a hundred years had passed, and she had no idea where Lyall was.
Ywen’s eyes brimmed with longing.
She reached out to touch the big black dog, but when she saw him fully for the first time, her hand froze in midair.
Ywen said seriously, “Hey, maybe you don’t mind the somewhat awful bathing facilities here?”
Little Sirius’s sluggish brain hadn’t yet processed the meaning of her words when, all of a sudden, a rush of warm, soothing water poured over him, drenching him thoroughly. As the water cascaded over him like a spring, he saw her lips move, murmuring, *Scourgify*.
Afterward, Ywen dried him off to her satisfaction.
Though he was still skin and bones, at least he was now soft and fluffy—presentable and huggable.
The big black dog rested its front paws on her shoulders as she motioned for him to hold on tightly. But the dog didn’t move; his eyes were unfocused and blank.
With no other choice, Ywen had to carry the big black dog in one arm—a feat that was quite a challenge given her current physique—and retraced her steps out of Azkaban.
The empty corridors echoed with the sound of her rapid footsteps. Occasionally, when a strange noise startled them, the dog in her arms would shrink back slightly, instinctively burrowing toward the warmth.
Warmth—yes, human warmth, the warmth of touch. In the icy, damp prison, where cold seemed to freeze even one’s marrow, warmth was the thing the prisoners most desperately craved.
The big black dog clung to her the moment he felt her touch, unwilling to let go. He whimpered softly, resting his head on her shoulder, his furry head brushing against her neck, greedily absorbing the precious warmth that his instincts yearned for.
Fortunately, few people could resist the charm of something soft and fluffy seeking comfort.
She kept speaking to him, trying to revive his consciousness:
“Hey, Sirius? You still remember your name, right? Merlin forbid the Dementors have driven you insane... Healing magic isn’t exactly my strong suit.”
“I’ll get you out of here. See that? That’s the exit... Uh-oh.”
The trembling fur on her back suddenly intensified, and a bone-chilling cold swept in, carried by the howling winds from the sea. It wasn’t just cold; it pierced through the skin, seeped into the marrow, and froze the very blood. If one didn’t focus their mind, even the slightest lapse could draw out their worst memories.
The Dementors, sensing the disturbance, had begun to converge. Though mindless creatures, they were, in a way, exceptionally diligent. What a grim joke.
“Well, well, I didn’t want to make too big a scene,” Ywen muttered. “Whose bright idea in the Ministry was it to assign Dementors to guard Azkaban?”
The fur on her back signaled the PTSD the big black dog harbored from this lot. Luckily, she had some experience dealing with them.
“*Expecto Patronum!*”
Silvery smoke, light and nimble as dancing spirits, swiftly coalesced in the air.
The phoenix reappeared.
The silver phoenix Patronus, graceful and luminous, danced in the air like a silent performance. Too bad the Dementors weren’t in the mood to appreciate it. As the phoenix Patronus flapped its wings and soared toward them, the Dementors scattered in all directions, as if confronted by their most feared nemesis.
With the phoenix Patronus clearing the way, there were no further obstacles. Ywen followed closely behind, running from the oppressive, narrow confines of the prison to the expansive corridor, past the heavy iron gates...
Moonlight spilled like liquid silver, and the waves wore a shimmering, scaly veil.
She felt the trembling of the big black dog gradually subside. He stared blankly at the vast night sky and the luminous moon, a sight he could hardly believe he would ever see again.
He breathed in the air of freedom, which had once seemed like a distant dream.
Near her, the girl laughed and said, “Look, how beautiful the moon is!”
The phoenix Patronus landed in front of her, folded its wings, and then lowered its head gently toward her. Ywen reached out into the void to touch her Patronus before quietly watching it dissipate.
Ywen turned around to gaze at the prison. Above it, the red warning light shot up into the sky—an activated alert system.
It was always a fantasy to break out a prisoner unnoticed. Even if she could defeat all the Dementors here, the secondary alarm system was unavoidable. No doubt the Aurors would soon be alerted...
Heh, it would be a bonus if she managed to draw the attention of *that Dumbledore*.
Fortunately, the “genius” Ministry official who proposed Dementor surveillance had left Azkaban without human guards, giving Ywen ample time to make her escape.
But first, she had a parting gift for the magical world...
Raising her brow slightly, she fixed her gaze on the red-glowing alarm system, a piece of alchemical equipment perched high above, with an almost provocative smirk.
After estimating her magical reserves, she raised her wand high:
“*Confringo!*”
Thanks to Gellert's thorough instruction, this spell had become one of the most proficient in Ywen’s arsenal.
One breath was all it took to transform the icy cold into fiery heat.
Flames roared like unleashed arrows, streaking through the dark night and hitting her target with precision.
With a resounding boom, the red glow above Azkaban was extinguished.
In front of Ywen was a trail—a clear testament to the fiery path her spell had carved out. The grass had been scorched, the earth seared black, forming a straight line to the alchemical device.
It was much quieter now.
Ywen narrowed her eyes, surveying the chaotic marks left by her spell. In a low voice, she murmured her own incantation:
“*Finite Incantatem.*”
Instantly, the magical traces that only she could see disappeared as if erased by an invisible hand.
Satisfied, Ywen carried the big black dog and followed her preplanned route off the desolate island.
- Writer
