An unexpected encounter with a natural enemy, despite all efforts, is not enough to defea

Mr. Ned, another wizard jailer in Azkaban, hesitated for a moment... but finally grabbed another piece of pumpkin pie, sizzling and groaning from the heat, while enjoying his wife's superb cooking.

The sweet aroma of pumpkin pie brought a touch of warmth to the gloomy little house. Mr. Ned glanced at the clock, the thought, "Why hasn't Cooper come back yet?" slipped through his mind like butter, but he didn't dwell on it.

He took a bite of the second-to-last piece of pumpkin pie, inwardly complaining about how his wife had to make it so delicious and even thoughtfully put a heat-keeping spell on it; all the while he comfortably lay on the creaking rattan chair in the Auror duty room, munching away.

Losing weight is impossible. If all else fails, just drink the magic potion that's right for you!

The "crack" sound of the pastry and icing crumbling made him feel like a mouse more than ever before.

It's hard to imagine that the criminals in the cell behind him, or the wandering Dementors, could imagine how happy he was at that moment.

Just kidding, who would want to go to work if they could rest?

When Mr. Ned finally finished his pumpkin pie, he let out a satisfied sigh.

The only room on the entire island that could be considered "safe" was only about 20 square meters, and the window frame had been eroded to a grayish-white by the salty, cold sea breeze.

Neither Ned nor Cooper appreciated the simple, even somewhat shabby, decorating style. Mr. Ned made many efforts to make them both more comfortable, and Cooper tacitly approved of it.

Logically speaking, guards like them, who are rotated in to "manage" Azkaban, shouldn't be enjoying life like this.

Just kidding, if this leads to the summoning of Dementors and actually causes a tragedy like "a jailer killing another jailer"—who would be responsible then?

But that's human nature. If you can live comfortably, why would you choose to be an ascetic?

In any case, Mr. Ned was very unwilling.

He was a shrewd and worldly old Auror, who had spent his entire life skillfully navigating social situations with his smooth-talking... oh no, I mean his smooth-talking personality, always managing to "miss out" on truly dangerous jobs. Therefore, even in middle age, he had never truly lost anything.

What does this mean? It means he has an extreme lack of combat experience.

This also means that he is extremely skilled at casting Guardian Spells, to the point of being almost supernatural.

When the joy of his successful escape overflowed the little house, attracting some indiscriminate Dementors, Mr. Ned would tap his wand and use his silver-white boar to scatter the unruly creatures in all directions...

As time went on, he lost his initial vigilance. Even when he felt a chill indoors and frost began to form on the window, he simply shook his head in disdain and muttered:

"here we go again!!"

He looked strangely like a Muggle whose window had been smashed by a child—angry but not nervous.

Before Mr. Ned opened the door, he had no idea what kind of scene he would be facing.

What's there to think about? At most, there will be two Dementors, okay, or maybe three—even if we break the all-time record again, it can only be four.

In short, this is what he thought: at most, it was just four hungry "black devils" knocking on his door, asking to devour his soul... nothing more!

………………

Therefore, when the cold, salty wind of the North Sea lifted his wizard's robe and he shivered from the cold, but there were no black cloth bags from those disgusting people in front of him, he was just stunned for a moment.

Then I realized that the annoying sound of the sea had disappeared. It had been drowned out by another nauseating noise.

It was as if millions of withered leaves were rubbing and colliding with each other, making a rustling sound coming from above his head.

Perhaps he shouldn't have looked up. Only Merlin knew how long he had nightmares afterward.

—Those were many, so many that they almost covered the sky and blocked the moonlight, Dementors.

Those dark, ghostly figures that should have been roaming inside and outside the prison cells huddled together like birds, fish, and insect eggs, moving in unison and fleeing off the island like a locust plague.

Defect?

Judging from their body language—if these monsters really do have "body language"—their posture doesn't look like that of a defector at all!

Their posture... was so eager and competitive! Like swifts encountering an eagle... like a school of fish encountering a shark... They... they looked... as if they had been greatly frightened, as if herbivores had encountered their natural enemy.

Mr. Ned stood frozen in place, shivering from the chill emanating from the Dementors.

Forty years as an Auror... forty years of experience constantly brushing shoulders with danger.

It's just that I lack experience.

He wanted to escape. Only Merlin knew how much he wanted to escape—but Apparition was forbidden here.

To leave the island, one must board one of those dilapidated little boats... If Mr. Ned could move, he would too.

But he was stunned and terrified by what he saw. He was like an insect stuck to amber, and for most of the day, if his guardian spirit hadn't brushed against his trouser leg, Mr. Ned could have stood there forever.

He shuddered violently, having almost lost control of his bladder. Old Ned instinctively crossed his arms, feeling helpless and lost.

Only then, only when the chill and fear clung to his spine like a bone-deep infection, did old Ned realize what he had forgotten, and remember the person he should have thought of sooner:

Cooper.

Where are the Coopers?

...How is the young man who went on patrol in his place?

Tears fell, and in fact, Mr. Ned did not understand why he was crying.

He felt weaker than ever before, unsure whether to muster the courage to go to the prison or stay put and wait for rescue.

In a sense, it was fortunate that he hadn't yet realized what the Dementors' chaotic retreat symbolized.

He hadn't considered that the being that could terrify the dark creatures so much could not possibly be just an ordinary dark wizard.

…………

When old Ned shakily took his first steps, sweating profusely and braving the cold wind, clutching his wand as he walked toward the prison, he cried with grievance, but also felt like a hero.

He was indeed a hero. If he remained frozen in place, and the frightened Dementors recovered and returned to Azkaban... Cooper would surely die.

But so far, no one has realized this. Mr. Ned is just trembling as he climbs upwards, hoping to encounter a few living people—even if they are dark wizards who have long lost their minds…it would be better than leaving him alone.

He walked and walked, until he entered the prison, but his heart grew even colder.

Many cell doors were wide open, but the prisoners inside had vanished without a trace!

Mr. Ned called out a few times in a hoarse voice, but none of the prisoners who had collapsed in the cell and were clearly insane paid him any attention.

Old Ned was terrified. When he finally shakily made his way to the third floor, he found the companion he was looking for:

Cooper slumped to the ground, burying his face in his hands, sobbing softly.

Seeing that he was alright, Mr. Ned couldn't help but let out a heart-wrenching cry:

"Oh my god! Thank goodness... Cooper, you... you're alive!"

He finally breathed a sigh of relief and was about to ask what had happened. But when Cooper looked up, his face was whiter than paper and swollen beyond recognition, clearly indicating that he had been treated roughly.

But none of this could explain why this poor young man... had such a ferocious expression.

Then, the mild-mannered Cooper suddenly sprang up and pounced on old Ned.

Caught off guard, old Ned was pinned to the ground, and in a moment of carelessness, his wand was also taken away.

Soul-Stealing Curse—!

Mr. Ned was trembling all over, thinking he was going to die here.

To everyone's surprise, Cooper, who appeared to be under the Imperius Curse, simply recited a few basic spells in succession: Levitation Charm, Ignition Charm, Transfiguration Charm...

There was no response.

Mr. Ned's wand didn't even produce a spark. Cooper's knees buckled, and he collapsed completely to the ground.

"It...it took away my magic."

"...I...I've become a Muggle..."

Cooper's desperate sobs brought an apparent end to these bizarre events of the night.

For those prisoners who "successfully" escaped, a new adventure was just beginning.