The unique coldness of a Dementor flooded into the cell like a tide.
He hurriedly hid on the bed, covered himself with the blanket, and pretended no one was there, shivering.
And our heroine, naturally seeing him so full of energy and feeling it was detrimental to her plan, took a fierce suck.
William’s happiness—those expectations about freedom—was sucked away by her like a wisp of golden smoke.
By the time the prison guard came to take him away, he was deathly pale and only managed to get off the bed shakily.
He complained, but his voice was weak: “Honestly, I’m about to be released, and I still get a bite from a Dementor.”
He was trembling as he walked.
The Ministry of Magic official stationed nearby had to hold him up: “What’s the matter?
Do you still want to get out or not?”
He managed to squeeze a flattering smile onto his pale face: “Of course I want to get out; I don’t want to stay in this hellhole for another second.”
It seemed that a few weeks of education had been quite fruitful; at the very least, he had recalled the etiquette used when facing teachers at school.
He was led away from the prison area and retrieved his wand at the security desk—the core was a Kneazle whisker.
William received his wand, but he no longer had the strength to cast a spell to tidy himself up.
The stationed official told him to wait on the steps outside, and someone from the Ministry of Magic would come to pick him up.
It shouldn’t take long.
So no more meals would be provided.
“Those civil servants are so slow; how much longer do I, your Lord William, have to wait?” He muttered quietly, curled up in a corner, and closed his eyes.
Half-asleep and half-awake, he sensed a feeling that sickened him.
But he was too tired, and it wasn’t until that cold, chilling sensation drew near that he realized what was happening, and he suddenly opened his eyes—
A Dementor was almost touching the tip of his nose.
Why was he still being attacked by this thing after getting out of prison?
And how did it get so close before he noticed?
He certainly couldn’t cast Expecto Patronum.
William let out a scream, and he felt as if he had been thrown into ice-cold water again; all perception gradually slid into the abyss.
Then, he knew nothing more.
And the Dementor that had snuck out to attend to personal business quickly took the wand from William’s pocket.
William’s scream also attracted the attention of the stationed official: “What’s wrong?”
Not daring to be careless, she went through his pockets, quickly looting the money, candy, and chocolate.
Candy was hard currency in Azkaban, even more popular than cigarettes—after all, sugar represented happiness, while smoke only numbed people.
Although for a Dementor, none of it was useful.
She seemed to hear a sound, which made her think it was someone’s residual memory.
[Magic item contacted, system activated]
She did not further judge or search for any possible contraband, because she had already sensed that the stationed official had walked out, cursing and swearing.
She dragged William to the corner of the steps, making him look like he was sleeping.
Then she floated into the shadows and left quietly.
The stationed official poked his head out to take a look: “Asleep?
Is he really that weak?”
But he stopped caring about this former prisoner who had just been released.
Being able to come out and take a look, doing this much could already be considered a dutiful public servant of British society.
A full two hours passed before the Ministry of Magic official arrived late.
“William?
Where is he?”
Then he saw William lying on his back nearby, looking down from above, and compared him with the photo.
“Why is he still asleep?
What a clueless criminal; I really should have locked you up for a few more weeks.” The Ministry of Magic official stepped forward and kicked him a few times.
“Is it William?” The Ministry of Magic official confirmed one last time.
William woke up groggily, his eyes vacant.
“Yes.” William’s mind was starting to become confused.
He vaguely felt as if he had been hit by something.
“I’m in a hurry.
Let’s go, you’ve been released, and I’ll take you to the nearest station.”
Seeing William’s idiotic appearance, the Ministry of Magic official frowned and complained: “How did you become an idiot after just a few weeks?”
He couldn’t be bothered to argue with him and planned to just find a random place to dump him.
It wasn’t until the next day that he discovered—his wand, money, and food were all gone.
Only a few Sickles sewn into his underwear kept him from not even having money for public transport.
But he dared not make a sound.
Losing things in Azkaban?
He suspected that while he was asleep, some Ministry of Magic bastard had swiped them.
He could only accept his bad luck.
He had to postpone his upcoming career and first go save up money to buy a wand; otherwise, if he encountered a tough character, a wizard without a wand was just a lamb waiting to be slaughtered.