Azkaban

The three returned to the castle chatting and laughing. The next day was Halloween Eve, and the professor had already set up all sorts of festive decorations.

Hundreds of pumpkin lanterns of various shapes floated above the Great Hall of Hogwarts, and many bats, some real and some fake, swooped and flew across the dome, while countless spider webs were adorned with tiny, psychedelic flashes of light.

That's great.

But Edmund's concern was that there was no food left in the Great Hall. He bid farewell to the two Gryffindors and hurried to the Slytherin common room as quickly as possible.

To be honest, stimulated by the rock-skin cake, he has begun to miss German sauerkraut and the strange-sounding but delicious British dish "Toad in the Hole".

...Only God knows why this English dish, made up of Yorkshire pudding, pasta, and sausage, has such a terrifying name.

Perhaps because this is Britain.

Considering that toads are still beloved pets of many Hogwarts students, Edmund was curious about what they were thinking as they swallowed this famous dish.

I can't take it anymore, the more I think about it, the hungrier I get.

Edmund sighed, but thankfully he soon returned to his small, neither warm nor bright, home.

Travers didn't forget his request and brought him a large lemon tart, along with some sausages and a glass of juice.

Edmund was very pleased and immediately agreed to give him a new set of bedding—the same one he had his eye on last time, decorated with unicorn tail hair.

Having finally filled his stomach, Edmund relaxed.

He slept soundly through the night, and the next day was a Saturday with nothing to do.

Edmund first went to see Lily Evans, and both of them were speechless at the fact that the mothers had become "close friends," but there was nothing they could do about it.

"You seem to have grown a little taller."

Upon meeting her, Edmund noticed that Lily seemed to have lost a little weight. Her round face now had a slightly pointed chin, and she had grown taller.

"Really?" Lily looked down, puzzled. "I don't feel anything, and my skirt hasn't gotten shorter."

Edmund nodded, no longer dwelling on the matter.

He was still troubling Mrs. Evans to send him things, but now his request had changed to:

Please help me choose some things that people around me find interesting and that are currently trending.

You can't expect purchasing staff to have a Muggle mindset. Even if you give them some autonomy, you can't expect them to keep up with Muggle trends.

Edmund felt the money was well spent, while Lily always felt embarrassed about it.

"...My father joked with me in his last letter that you and Mrs. Soman were paying them more than their wages."

Lily looked very embarrassed, yet helpless.

"Mother also said that Mrs. Soman wanted to send her an owl so that she could reply to her letters immediately."

Edmund gave a polite laugh, and Lily sighed.

"But my sister said she was afraid of bird beaks, which dissuaded them from the idea."

Lily glanced at Edmund.

"Honestly, I almost thought your family's main business was mining Galleons... I was wrong, wasn't I?"

This time, Edmund was genuinely amused by her.

Seeing him laughing so hard, Lily wasn't angry. She sighed again, and just as she was about to say something, her gaze swept over him, and her expression suddenly brightened.

"Severus!"

Severus Snape clutched a brass scale in his hand, his greasy hair hanging beside his face. Judging from his expression, he seemed to be forcing himself to remain calm, pretending it was just a chance encounter…

But when Lily Evans greeted him so warmly, his lips twitched, and he almost couldn't help but smile.

……oh.

To be fair, this scene was indeed quite cute.

This is precisely why Edmund found it so annoying.

He wasn't particularly interested in Lily and her innocent childhood friendship. To be precise, he wasn't particularly interested yet.

Making friends with someone like Snape is bound to lead to bad luck sooner or later.

He was more interested in seeing how the two would arguing and bicker after their conflict.

Unfortunately, the time is not yet right.

"Good afternoon, I'm chatting with Edmund." Lily smiled. "Didn't catch you yesterday! You know what, Professor Slughorn praised your handling of the situation again! He said he hasn't heard that in a long time..."

Edmund's thoughts drifted far away. He lingered a while longer to avoid Lily discovering his strained relationship with Snape. Then, he made up an excuse to slip away and returned to the Great Hall, which reeked of roasted pumpkin.

Halloween Eve is the day for slaughtering pumpkins—Edmund suspects that Hogwarts consumed at least nearly a thousand pumpkins.

He sat at the table, bored, and glanced idly at the classroom seats. His eyes met Dumbledore's.

Edmund paused, then raised his glass to Dumbledore with a smirk, indicating that he had noticed Dumbledore spying on him.

The old wizard showed no embarrassment whatsoever. He deepened his smile and raised the silver cup in front of him to Edmund in greeting.

Tsk.

Edmund finished his pumpkin juice. He felt his mood hadn't improved, but it hadn't worsened either.

But then an idea struck him: it was Halloween Eve, after all, and he should perhaps do something befitting of this special day.

………………

That night, late at night.

200 nautical miles north of Scotland stands a magical space that has never been marked on a map.

When the cold wind and sea fog blow into the honeycomb-like holes of the island, mournful screams like those of humans always emanate, causing great torment to the jailers there.

This is Azkaban.

The statue of the previous Minister of Magic, Taft, still stands in the center of the island. He had promised hardliners that he would vigorously breed more Dementors.

But there were too many humane wizards in the world. As a result, he was impeached and removed from office. The magic on the bronze statue, which was inscribed with "Necessary Evil" at the bottom, also lost its effectiveness and gradually became old and weathered.

When the jailers occasionally passed by, they would mutter, "Hypocrite."

It's not that they particularly enjoy being here. Ever since Azkaban was discovered by the Ministry of Magic, the terrifying legends surrounding the place have never ceased.

Nobody likes this place, just as nobody wants to delve into how the original island's owner tortured those poor Muggle sailors and how he attracted so many Dementors.

The jailer, Cooper, shuddered. His silver-white guardian spirit nudged his leg affectionately, like a real puppy… Cooper felt comforted by this and kept reminding himself:

It's okay, it's okay... Once he's finished inspecting the last floor, he can go back to old Ned and share the pumpkin pie his wife baked.

That said, although he also thought Taft was completely insane, Cooper would waver every time it was his turn to do the job:

Anyway, the Dementors on the island will never disappear, and they are even multiplying... so having them act as jailers sounds like a pretty good idea!

But this is truly inhumane. Even for a dark wizard, such an end is far too tragic.

Cooper, with his indecisive nature, found himself caught in his own dilemma. Just as he finally reached the last and highest level, the third floor, and was about to breathe a sigh of relief, a voice pierced through the prisoners' groans, ringing out in a monotonous, emotionless tone:

"Three wishes."

Cooper looked up and saw a prisoner, still conscious, pressed against the bars, his skeletal face wooden and stiff, staring at him intently.

"Three wishes."

The prisoner's chapped lips parted upwards as he said obsequiously:

"Three wishes, wizard, what do you desire?"