The door covered in red moss slowly opened.

The cold wind poured in from the outside in.

There are no stairs or bridges outside the gate, but a flat field.

Here are seven floors, and the inner courtyard. It was supposed to be on the first floor with Azkaban.

The ground was full of dry bones, human, animal, white, without the slightest sign of decay and weathering, as if some kind of white bones had been preserved by the power of nature, and they had been piled up here since I don't know when.

And that doesn't mean there's nothing in the inner court but bones.

The inner courtyard, with its countless corpses, was covered with iron-gray leaves and black branches, and huge ancient trees occupied two-thirds of the space in the sky of the inner courtyard.

Dementors are shadowy, occasionally peeking through the cracks between the trunks of the leaves and trees in the sky.

Countless Dementors were inhabited on top of the ancient tree covered in iron-gray leaves, and the cold aura lingered, but the huge ancient tree was lush.

Life and death, the two extremes of life, maintain a wonderful balance here. Diongo's breath froze, and his heart tightened as he watched the Dementors hover over strange trees.

"Teach ......"

"Go ahead."

Ranko smiled at Mr. Gustavsson on the side.

"You, aren't you going to go?" Diongo had a premonition.

"Of course." Ranko stretched out his hands, "I don't want to step on those things." ”

How many people have died in Azkaban?

Azkaban's predecessor was a fortress for a dark wizard, whether it was the "residue" of the dark wizard's experiments, the Muggle hapless that the Dementors went out hunting and brought back that had drifted to the neighborhood, or the wizards or animals that had died in Azkaban for hundreds of years, their bones, except for those buried in a cemetery not far away, were left here to see.

That's a lot to be reckoned with.

And here, there is something else besides the Dementors.

"It's under the taproot of that tree, and it won't be long before you can see it."

Ranko moved out of the way and motioned for Diongo to move forward.

Azkaban also forbids apparition migration, which means that it is not possible to use apparition to cross the bone-filled path.

But Diongo couldn't say no.

He swallowed a little bit of saliva, then took a deep look at the dark magic professor next to him and stepped out of the stone door.

"Good luck."

Ranko closed the door the next moment he stepped out of the stone door.

The stone door slammed into the bridge of his nose.

Diongo: ......

There is a saying that my mother sells batches and doesn't know whether to talk about it or not.

Ranko withdrew his gaze when he saw the people go out, and turned his head to look into the depths of the corridor.

"I don't like to have people interrupting me when I'm busy, especially if it's about Grindelwald."

No one can make a Dementor submissive, but one of the most evil creatures of dark magic in history can be used.

This is true for both the current British Ministry of Magic and Tom, who will use Dementors in the future.

More people as a reward for the Dementors.

The wand was raised, and Ranko tilted his head to look at the slowly floating Dementor covered in yellow and green bandages, with a hint of malice on his face. -

"You think I'm going to be able to find you if you're hiding behind the Dementors?"

"Didn't your faith tell you that the wizard you're dealing with, what he's best at is finding connections between two things, and."

"Do you inflict an unavoidable, death-leading curse?"

The dementor's bandages suddenly retracted, squeezing into its shriveled and rotting body.

It opened its mouth wide and silently screamed but couldn't reach where Ranko was, and the Dementors in this passage felt the curse from the pyramid and moved away from where the Dementor was, leaving no one and one monster in the slightest.

"Behold, thy companions have forsaken thee."

Step by step, Ranko walked in the direction of the Dementor.

As he walked, on his face, arms, and neck, he rolled up strips of cloth soaked in yellow-green oil stains and spread around.

The curse was silently being applied to the Dementors facing him.

"Although current research on Dementors doesn't mention how to kill a Dementor."

"But if you think about it, what are Dementors made of despair afraid of the most?"

"And why does the Patronus Charm banish Dementors?"

Word for word, the distance between him and the Dementor whose body was already wrapped in layers of the shroud and its body began to shrink grew closer.

"It's joy and happiness."

Standing in front of the Dementors who attacked him, the smile on Ranko's lips had reached the base of his ears abnormally.

He waved his hand casually, revealing his arm under the shroud.

It can't be called a living man's arm anymore.

Withered, decaying, and containing a terrible death curse, it seems as if it could kill the owner of the arm at any moment.

But Ranko was still smiling, and countless bandages were around the Dementor's neck, if that was the place to call it.

"You yearn for joy and happiness, but you are rejected by this material instinct."

The whites of his eyes were completely black, and Ranko's eyes and smile were clearly displayed in the Dementors' minds.

You know, the Dementor doesn't have eyes, and it only has three holes in its face that can be called terrible, and there is no bottom inside.

They only feel emotions.

But the wizards in front of them only left a calm and inexplicable excitement in their emotional reactions.

"Of course, I've always wanted to try killing a Dementor myself, but unfortunately, your companions have always been very peaceful when I came to Azkaban."

"Though you're dirty, cold, and disgusting to the touch." Ranko twisted his wrist slowly.

His voice rang in the Dementor's ear like a demon's whisper.

"But who let you provoke me?"

The yellow-green bandages were just as incompatible with the dark and cold wizarding prison, bringing a slight change to the monotonous colors of the place.

But then the yellow-green bandages tightened again, and the Dementor's face, arms, look, and carrion's body, along with its massive black hooded cloak, were all wrapped up in the Shroud.

Tightened, tightened again.

"I'm sorry, but I can't use the Patronus Charm, so I can't let you die quietly."

There seemed to be a backlog of bones, coming from the already taut cocoon made of the shroud.

The cold, desperate aura was replaced by a rotten aura in all directions, and the process of making the mummy in ancient Egypt was being etched into this dementor little by little.

First the cerebral marrow was removed, and then the internal organs of the stomach were removed, leaving only the kidneys and heart.

The corpse was then dried, anointed and spiced, wrapped in a large amount of linen, and coated with resin.

Air-dry.

A qualified mummy Yin appeared.

"It's a pity that the Dementors don't have any of the above organs, so you'll have to go straight to the last step."

Ranco glanced at the other Dementors not far away, and seeing that they didn't react much, neither grieving the death of their companion nor being excited or jealous of his presence, he knew what was going on in Azkaban.

"Someone persuaded a Dementor, but it doesn't seem like that person was giving a lot of leverage."

Do dark magic creatures like Dementors be loyal to someone for their own sake?

Oh, of course, after all, Dementors are born from humans, and it's understandable that the dark magic creatures that spawn on humans' desperate bodies have a bit of selfishness.

But that's not all.

The bandage was reattached to the epidermis, turning to pale skin, and Ranco took out the magic mirror from his pocket and looked at it carefully, making sure that the skin on his body had returned to 'normal' before he stepped forward and continued to walk upstairs.

Okay, let's go see which little guy is playing with him here.

This place, once the Patronus Charm is used, whether or not the Dementors are enemies, it will attract the hatred of all the Dementors.

The man had a good plan, even if the intruders had a way to hide from the Dementors, but with the Patronus Charm, the countless Dementors here would point the finger at them.

What will happen then?

Azkaban chaos? Or is it something else?

Intrigued, Ranko walked up the steps and continued upward.

——

Azkaban, Inner Courtyard.

Diongo appeared in the inner court, not alerting any of the Dementors entrenched in the inner court.

It was even colder, as if all the cold in Azkaban's area came from the inner courtyard full of bones.

With an unusually tough skeleton under his feet and a strange ancient tree growing on top of the skeleton in front of him, Diongo took a deep breath and looked up at the Dementors entrenched in the ancient tree, and then quietly approached the main body of the trunk.

"What the hell is this?"

The closer you go, the more you can feel the oddity of this ancient tree.

It stood out from anything else around it, and Diongo picked up an iron-gray leaf that had fallen to the ground, only to find that it didn't have the texture of a normal leaf.

He cautiously approached the ancient tree, holding his wand at all times.

But the journey was unusually calm and uneventful.

"It's a strange feeling."

Diongo took a breath and felt a heavy cold in his lungs, like he had inhaled a block of ice.

The temperature of the place where the Dementors are entrenched will be lowered, and life will lose all thought, the walking dead.

This is one of the reasons why the prisoners of Azkaban hated and feared it, but did not flee.

They had been walking dead for a long time, how could a walking dead man have the idea of escaping?

It's an endless loop.

Diongo walked over to the huge ancient tree that could only be hugged by a few people, and looked up at the canopy overhead.

There is no top in sight, and there are dementors and iron-gray leaves everywhere blocking the view.

To no avail, Diongo could only take his wand and cast a spell under the roots of the tree.

The bones were turned upside down, the skulls, the leg bones, the bones of people and animals were everywhere, and there was no soil where the ancient tree had taken root.

It's as if it has grown up by absorbing this sea of bones.

But in Diongo's mind, no plant is like this.

None.

Diongo was concentrating on the Dementors around him, and although he didn't know what the Dark Arts Professor had done to keep him from being disturbed by the Dementors, he didn't dare to let his guard down.

Who knows if these things will suddenly give him a flying kiss?

Mr. Gustavsson, who had never even held a girl's hand, was startled by his own thoughts, and inexplicably felt a chill.

'Dementor's Kiss', the only place in the book where a kiss scene can occur.

Diongo felt that the monsters that had only existed in books could come to him at any time.

His face became worse, and it also made Diongo move faster.

As a former Saint, a former Durmstrang graduate, and a current teaching assistant, Diongo is not bad at charms.

He quickly used a spell to dig a deep pit in the direction of the taproot.

The raw materials described by the Dark Arts Professor were also discovered.

Beneath the deep pit are several neatly arranged clay pots.

Next to the crockpot were a few skeletons that had not had time to merge into the surrounding sea of bones.

Diongo cursed in a low voice, enduring his physical and mental discomfort, and waved his wand at the skeletons that were crawling towards him.

The light flickered, wrapped in layers of iron-gray foliage, and the Dementors rustled and fluttered in the air, but silently swept under the trees as he cast the spell.

And all this was seen by someone in a certain cell.

The emaciated, haggard man leaned against the wall that could no longer be called clean, and through the only small window in the cell where he could see the inner court, if the dog's hole could be called a small window, he had seen such life in such a place where there were so many Dementors.

The man had messy hair, and his clothes seemed to have not been changed in a long time, revealing a foul and indescribable smell.

He seemed to have given up everything a long time ago, and his gray eyes were no longer arrogant, but the silence and silence of the ancient waves, as if his heart was dead.

The once handsome and uninhibited wizard is now such that no one can recognize him as a member of the high-ranking pure-blood family.

"I'm going to die."

Silently, he saw the Dementors approaching the young man through the gaps between the leaves, and smiled a little worse than crying.

But it's also better than he is now.

The man thought to himself.

After killing the damn guy, he already knew that he should stay in this place and atone for Jaime and Lily.

It was he who made that damn suggestion that the traitor would succeed.

For ten years, this torture had been almost constant and ubiquitous, but the Dementors had never spared him when he was most desperate, believing that his soul had long since decayed and was about to dissipate.

Time and time again, it's like embracing the idea of recycling, keeping their inmates from dying, and providing them with fresh food.

And he, should atone for his sins here.