In silence, Maca accepted the handover between the Ministry of Magic's prison guards and the Azkaban Dementors.

It could be seen that the two prisoners from the Ministry of Magic were shaking slightly in their hands when they faced the Dementors. Even they don't often come into contact with these monsters.

After the required handover process was completed quickly, they left without looking back.

Maca was standing beside the Dementors, and he could feel that the Dementors had sensed him since the last "Mystery Crystal" incident. It's just that this kind of sensing is still very weak, which makes those monsters a little lacking in interest.

Maca glanced at them casually, then took the initiative to walk towards the strange blackstone fortress located on the island with a steady pace.

According to sources, the last owner of the fort was an evil sorcerer named "Ixis". After his death, all the hidden spells on the island failed, and it was discovered by the Ministry of Magic.

No one knows who built it in the first place.

Along a path also paved with black rocks, the Dementors seemed to be everywhere, wandering and wandering aimlessly around......

In this world, I am afraid that there will be no prison like Azkaban again.

Aside from the Dementors, the natives who are the prison guards, there aren't many things in place to prevent criminals from escaping.

Even the iron gates of the Blackstone Fort were completely hoisted.

"Are they so reassuring of the Dementors?" Maca turned her head and looked at the monsters that were almost all over the mountain, "...... Well, perhaps, it's reassuring. ”

The increasingly stable wizarding world has naturally brought about the life, convenience, and popularization of magic, which makes the combat effectiveness of wizards and the exploration of various mysteries of the wizarding world constantly decline.

For the vast majority of criminals, this is already an abyssal hell of despair.

After passing through the tall gates of the fortress and passing a square that had long since been deserted, he entered the area inside the fortress.

This is a real prison that has been transformed by the Ministry of Magic.

If the process had followed, Maca would have been led by the Dementors and then imprisoned in one of the prisons. But the Ministry of Magic would never have imagined that Maca was here as if she had arrived on her own turf.

In the dark corridors of the fortress, Dementors are still everywhere.

But most of them just subconsciously "looked" at Maca, and then let him pass by them.

After a casual walk, Maca found that the prison was mostly empty. Compared to this extremely large fortress, there are very few prisoners held here.

But when Maca passed by a ledge located behind the fort, he saw a scene behind the castle.

It was a vast cemetery, with tombstones planted in the ground from the "back garden" near the castle to the edge of the woods in the distance.

The tombstones closest to the castle have even fallen, looking old and dilapidated, making one wonder how many years they have been there.

Maca continued to go up, but the further up she went, the fewer prisoners became, and almost all of them had no reaction to what Maca had done.

They're all trying to get themselves to sleep, and while it always wakes them up with nightmares, it's better than watching one Dementor after another pass by their cell door, sucking their pleasure like they're waiting in line for food!

However, as Maca passed through a cell on the third floor, he saw an old witch whose eyes were not completely dead.

"You...... Who are you? How...... Will ......" The witch said intermittently with her eyes half-open and her expression confused and slightly sober, "You are...... Someone from the Ministry of Magic coming to visit the prison? ”

Maca looked at her with interest and shook her head after a moment.

"I'm a prisoner, just like you." He said, "Why, hasn't your soul been completely occupied by negative emotions?" ”

“…… You think I'm ...... How many ...... times Came in? The old witch grinned, as if she wanted to smile, but it was a difficult thing for her to do," ...... I'm not going to be ...... That's a compromise. ”

Maca looked at her and thought for a moment, then suddenly raised an eyebrow and guessed, "You're Ms. Pinkerton?" ”

“…… Do you recognize me? The old witch narrowed her eyes, as if trying to see him better.

"Carlotta Pinkerton, born in 1922, graduated from Gryffindor House at Hogwarts, a well-known activist who advocated the repeal of the International Confederation of Wizarding Secrecy and worked for the merging of the wizarding and Muggle worlds......" Maca picked out what she knew before continuing to ask, "Actually, you're quite famous, because you've always been sent to Azkaban for deliberately violating the Secrecy Law." ”

“…… It's also a strategy. Ms. Pinkerston's eyes widened, "Do you think I'm right?" ”

Maca shrugged her shoulders and said, "I don't want to crouch here and talk to you about this. ”

"You...... Want to do it? Pinkston asked sickly.

But Maca just waved her hand, ignored her, stood up and left.

Meeting Carlotta Pinkerston was just an accident, and it wasn't in his plans. He walked non-stop, seemingly casually looking at the prisoners who occasionally appeared in his sight, as he slowly walked to the upper floors.

Since these unprovoked events hindered his research process, he had no choice but to set the situation up first.

All the way up, Maca is like the master of Azkaban, inspecting every criminal who is being held here.

Finally, in a certain prison, he saw a woman lying motionless on the ground.

It was a witch who looked like she was dead, her long, dirty, dusty hair lying on the ground, completely covering her head.

The witch's clothes were tattered, and her skin was gray and dead, not much different from a corpse.

If it weren't for the faint glimpse of her chest rising and falling with her breathing, no one would have thought she was still alive.

"Bell-"

Maca reached out and tapped the iron door of the prison with the chain on her wrist, making a few crisp metal thumps. Voices echoed through the silent hallway.

The witch's hand seemed to move, apparently she had heard the abrupt sound.

"Bellatrix."

Before Makaka's tentative words could be settled, the witch jerked her head up, and under her long tousled hair, a pair of eyes full of paranoia and madness pierced straight at Maca.

“…… Who are you? She roared in a hoarse voice.

Maca ignored her question, looked her in the eye and said, "Answer me, are you Bellatrix?" ”

"You, yes, who!"

The other party's madness was obviously extraordinary, she shouted hoarsely, grabbed the cell door and slammed into it, making a loud "clang".

The target has obviously been found, so there is no need to continue to talk to her.

Maca turned her head, and her hand was already glowing with a solid, silvery-white glow. He reached out and grabbed the face of one of the Dementors who were passing behind him, dragging him all the way downstairs.

In the prison, Bellatrix, who had already fallen into madness, couldn't help but take half a step back - no way, Maca's behavior had an incomparable deterrent in the eyes of all the prisoners of Azkaban.

As it turned out, the Dementors were magical creatures with no emotions to speak of, and even as the hapless bastard in Maca's hands struggled, they let him walk away as if they hadn't seen it at all.

……

In Little Hangleton, the villagers still refer to an old house here as "Riddle House", even though it has been uninhabited for many years.

The house is located on a high hillside, from which the whole village can be seen.

Several windows of the house were sealed, tiles on the roof were mutilated, and creepers crawled all over the house with their teeth and claws.

Riddle House was originally a beautiful mansion, the most spacious and imposing building within a radius of a few miles; But now, it has become so damp and desolate, and it is covered with the traces of time.

The villagers of Little Hangleton agreed that the old house was indeed "weird and scary".

Half a century ago, a bizarre and terrifying event took place here. And until now, when the older generation in the village has nothing else to talk about, they still like to pull it out and talk about it.

This story has been told over and over again, and in many places it has been added to the vinegar, and no one can say for sure what the truth is.

Each version of the story begins, though, in the same way:

Fifty years ago, Riddle was a time of great management and grandeur; On a clear summer dawn, a maid walks into the living room and finds Riddle and his family of three dead.

The maid screamed all the way down the hill and into the village, waking up the villagers.

“…… They were all lying down, their eyes wide open! It's cold! Still wearing the clothes from dinner! She said.

The police were called, and the whole village of Little Hangethon was immersed in surprise and curiosity, and the villagers tried to hide their excitement, but without success.

No one wasted their efforts and pretended to grieve for the Driel family, who had always had bad popularity in the village.

The old couple was rich but snobbish, and their adult son, Tom......

You may not believe it, but he is even worse than his parents!

The villagers were concerned about who the killer was - it was clear that three seemingly healthy people could not have died of natural causes at the same time on the same night.

"It's been a big circle, and it's back in this place—" At this moment, in Riddle's Mansion, a handsome young wizard stood by the broken window, looked out and chuckled, "isn't it?" Nagini ......"