Chapter 383 Azkaban, The Wizards' Prison
Dumbledore fell silent. He did not seem willing to explain to Evan and share his research findings on the strange nameplate.
He must have known something, and for whatever reason, he passed it on to him.
As for what he mentioned, with Evan's involvement, the key to the treasure left by the Four Founders might have something to do with malevolent spirits.
This might be only part of the reason, but certainly not all of it.
Evan did not inquire, Dumbledore always had been like that; if he did not wish to reveal something, no question would bear fruit. Nevertheless, he would not harm him.
But what happened in the end was probably not what he expected.
Evan sighed and picked up the nameplate. He was prepared to rely on his own strength to understand what it was and what it was for.
"Just touch the Portkey lightly, do not force it!" Sirius instructed Evan to place his hand on the statue.
It started to get cold and the statue seemed to come to life.
An unknown fear surged deep in Evan's heart, making him uneasy.
He nervously gazed at the statue in front of him, observing the hood that the Dementor was about to remove, and the mouth that could be glimpsed inside, as if in a trance.
He recalled the method of creating a Dementor in the book "Secrets of the Darkest Art". Not surprisingly, this magic was also invented by Herpo the Foul.
Could Dementors be creatures of another alleged malevolent deity, just like those strange monsters with holes all over their heads he had encountered in the Temple of the Centaurs?
Both abilities acted directly on one's soul.
And the Patronus Charm harmed them all, which was a bit too much to be a coincidence.
Thinking about this, Evan shuddered inexplicably.
"Get ready, I will count from three and we shall depart!" said Dumbledore, placing his hand on the robe of the Dementor statue. "Three, two, one!"
He had barely finished speaking when, faster than words could count, Evan felt as if there was a hook behind his belly button propelling him forward with an irresistible force.
He left the ground with both feet and soared upwards.
He could feel Dumbledore and Sirius on either side; their shoulders bumped into him, and then separated again, far away.
They flew forward like a gust of wind, unable to see clearly ahead of their eyes.
Evan's right hand clung to the Dementor statue, as if it had a magnetic force drawing him, and then...
His feet landed heavily on the ground and he could not stand up, he fell.
Evan had tried Floo Network and Apparition before, and the travel experiences and sensations were different. They were all very uncomfortable, but none of them used the Portkey so abruptly.
"You still need to practice to maintain balance," Sirius said as he helped him up.
Before Evan, there was a statue of the same Dementor.
However, they were definitely not at the Ministry of Magic now. The walls of the room around them were all rough black rocks.
The deteriorating floor had crumbled away, and the air smelled of decay.
In front of them stood a narrow, small closed door.
This room was like the Shrieking Shack. No one had been there for a long time. It was covered in dust. Walking on the floor produced a creaking noise.
Suddenly, Evan felt very cold. The cold came from beneath his feet and was stealthily rising.
He huddled, then realized that the cold was caused by the multitude of Dementors gathering around them. Although he had not seen them yet, all the happy, optimistic, and positive emotions in his heart quickly faded with the dropping temperature.
The cruel thought of death lingered in his mind, as if happiness was no longer within reach, and life seemed devoid of meaning.
The colors vanished around him, and the world quickly turned into a pale gray, mirroring Evan's terribly extreme mood.
Though the ground was dirty, he wished to lay there and remain forever.
Although Sirius was beside Evan, he reacted much more profoundly than him.
Having spent too long in Azkaban, he was less resilient to Dementors than any other wizard. He curled up and crouched on the ground.
Sirius' body was changing, automatically transforming into a large black dog.
Animal emotions were difficult for Dementors to comprehend, and they were more resistant than humans.
Sirius in his Animagus form stood up and seemed much improved.
However, his legs still trembled.
"Expecto Patronum!" Dumbledore called softly and waved his wand.
A white light sprang from his wand, dispelling the cold around them, and the temperature, colors, and senses returned to Evan. He lay on the ground, breathing heavily.
A small Phoenix Patronus spun around him. Each time it flapped its wings, a beautiful silver starlight dust fell, looking very exquisite.
"Invoke your Patronus, but be mindful to control your own magic," said Dumbledore. "Use the least magic possible; we are not driving away the Dementors but creating our own defense. It's not very difficult; you can try this technique."
"Expecto Patronum!" Evan drew his wand and attempted to limit his magic consumption.
A small silver kitten appeared on his chest, much smaller than his usual Patronus, but the light in its body was more concentrated.
"Besides warding off Dementors, the Patronus has many unexpected uses," Dumbledore smiled and said. "With some small magic spells, they can become messengers or condense entities to directly attack the enemy."
Dumbledore talked to Evan about several new uses of the Patronus Charm, expanding his mind to all sorts of new possibilities. Combining spells could indeed create other new and more potent ones that were vastly different!
A few minutes later, they continued.
Sirius did not return to his human form. He followed Evan as a large black dog.
Outside the narrow black door of the room, there was a narrow path of hollow wooden planks.
The cold, biting wind blew, and they were in a separate tower, rising toward the clouds.
They had to cross the plank path in front of them to reach the main building opposite Azkaban.
Like the deteriorated floor in the room, the planks of the path were all broken and swaying, as if they could fall at any moment.
Evan carefully followed Dumbledore, restricting the range of his Patronus to about half a meter, and there was thick fog around the plank path.
He tried to look as far as possible but could see nothing.
They were enveloped by the fog, and for a few seconds, Evan felt as if something had passed close to him. He wasn't sure if it was a Dementor.
Although he couldn't use his eyes, he could perceive the salty taste of seawater and the sound of waves crashing against rocks.
They were on a secluded island. This was Azkaban, the Prison of wizards.