The Azkaban Affair

The air around Azkaban was colder than I'd expected, a biting chill that seeped through my robes and settled in my bones. The fortress loomed ahead, its dark stone walls a stark silhouette against the stormy sky. Beside me, Harry Potter strode forward with a sense of familiarity, his presence commanding attention even in a place as bleak as this.

The guards at the entrance snapped to attention, their eyes widening at the sight of Harry. Whispers followed us, a low murmur of awe and curiosity. The famous Harry Potter, here at Azkaban. I couldn't help but smirk at their reactions. Fame was a double-edged sword, one I preferred to avoid. 

We were led through the labyrinthine corridors, the oppressive atmosphere pressing down on us. The smell of damp and decay was thick in the air, mingling with the distant echoes of tormented souls. I could feel the dark energy of the place, a palpable reminder of its purpose. 

Finally, we reached the jailer's office. The man behind the desk looked up, his face splitting into a wide grin when he saw Harry. He was a stout fellow, with an air of overconfidence that was almost tangible.

"Mr. Potter," he greeted, standing up and extending a hand. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Harry shook his hand, his expression neutral. "Just a routine check, Morrison. Anything unusual today? Any new prisoners?"

Morrison waved a dismissive hand. "Nah, everything's been quiet. Business as usual. You know how it is."

I stepped forward, my eyes narrowing. "Quiet, you say? In Azkaban? That's a fucking miracle."

Morrison's grin faltered, but he recovered quickly, puffing out his chest. "We run a tight ship here, mate. Nothing gets past us."

Harry's gaze was steady, almost piercing. "Tighten the security. Double the patrols and keep an eye out for anything suspicious."

Morrison nodded, but there was a flicker of annoyance in his eyes. "Of course, Mr. Potter. We'll take care of it."

As we turned to leave, I cast a final look at Morrison. His confidence grated on my nerves, an irritating reminder of the complacency that often led to disaster. Harry's presence might have put him at ease, but I wasn't convinced. Azkaban was a powder keg, and all it needed was a spark.

The journey back through the corridors was silent, the oppressive atmosphere weighing heavily on my mind. Harry seemed lost in thought, his brow furrowed. I could sense his concern, a shared understanding that this place was far from secure.

Outside, the cold wind hit us like a wall. I pulled my robes tighter, my mind already working through the possibilities. Azkaban was a fortress, but even the strongest walls could crumble from within. 

"Do you trust him?" I asked, breaking the silence.

Harry shook his head slightly. "Not entirely. But we don't have much choice. We'll have to keep a close watch ourselves."

The cold wind bit into my skin as I stepped outside Azkaban's gates which lead to the bleak front yard of Azkaban, the sense of confinement lingering even in the open air. I reached into my pocket, pulling out a cigarette. With a flick of my wand, the tip flared to life, and I took a deep drag, letting the smoke curl around my face.

Harry joined me, his expression unreadable. I could tell his mind was a whirl of thoughts, each one more troubling than the last. I exhaled a cloud of smoke, watching it dissipate into the darkening sky.

"So, Harry," I began, my voice cutting through the silence. "What if there really is a wand in there?"

Harry looked at me, his eyes dark and intense. "If there is, we're dealing with something far more dangerous than we anticipated. A wand like that… it's not just a weapon. It's a fucking curse."

I took another drag, savoring the burn in my lungs. "A curse, you say? What's the worst it could do?"

"It could corrupt the most righteous man," Harry said, his tone grim. "Turn heroes into villains. Make the sanest person lose their mind. If that wand is in there, it's not just those three men we need to worry about. It's ourselves."

I smirked, flicking the ash off the end of my cigarette. "Sounds like a good time, then. What's the plan? Wait for it to drive us all mad?"

Harry's jaw tightened. "No, the plan is to find it and destroy it. Before it can do any more damage."

"And what if it's already done its damage?" I asked, my eyes narrowing. "What if we're already too late?"

Harry's gaze didn't waver. "Then we fight. We fight like hell to make sure it doesn't spread. But we can't do it alone, Adrian. We need to stay sharp. Trust no one."

I laughed, a harsh sound that echoed in the empty space. "Trust no one? Sounds like my kind of party."

Harry shook his head slightly, a ghost of a smile on his lips. "Just remember, Adrian, this isn't a game. The stakes are higher than you think."

"I know the stakes, Harry," I said, taking one last drag before flicking the cigarette into the wind. "I'm ready for whatever comes next."

Harry reached into his pocket, pulling out a phone that buzzed insistently. He glanced at the screen, his expression shifting from irritation to concern. He answered, his voice sharp.

"Morrison? What is it?"

I watched Harry's face, the shadows playing tricks in the dim light. He listened intently, his jaw tightening with each passing second. I could feel the tension rolling off him in waves.

"What happened?" I asked, lighting another cigarette. The smoke curled lazily in the air, mingling with the scent of dead animals and cold air.

Harry lowered the phone, his eyes flicking to me. "The cleaners found something. A chamber they've never seen before."

I took a drag, considering the implications. "A chamber, huh? Sounds like we were late. They just stumbled on it now? After all these years? Definitely someone opened it"

"That's what Morrison said," Harry replied, slipping the phone back into his pocket. "We need to check it out. Something doesn't feel right."

I exhaled slowly, the smoke obscuring my view for a moment. "Right. Because everything about this fucking place is always on the up and up."

Harry's eyes narrowed, a glint of determination in their depths. "This could be what we're looking for."

I flicked the cigarette butt out the window, watching the ember spiral into the night. "But if this turns out to be another wild goose chase, I'm going to have words with that smug bastard Morrison."

****

Morrison met us in the main hall, his overconfidence now tinged with a hint of anxiety. "Mr. Potter, Mr. Lanceworth, this way."

We followed him through the winding halls, deeper into the bowels of the prison. The air grew colder, the shadows darker. Finally, we reached a narrow passageway, hidden behind a set of rusted bars that looked like they hadn't been touched in decades.

"Here," Morrison said, gesturing to the entrance. "The cleaners found it during their rounds."

I peered into the darkness, my senses on high alert. "Convenient timing, don't you think?"

Morrison bristled, but Harry silenced him with a look. "Stay here," he ordered. "Adrian and I will handle this."

Morrison nodded, his confidence slipping further. Harry and I stepped into the passageway, our wands lighting the way. The air was damp, the smell of mildew and rot thick. The further we went, the more oppressive the atmosphere became.

As we reached the end of the passage, we found ourselves in a small, circular chamber. The walls were lined with strange symbols, the air humming with latent magic. In the center of the room was a pedestal, empty but for the lingering traces of powerful enchantments.

"Well, shit," I muttered, my eyes scanning the room. "Looks like we found something after all."

Harry's expression was grim. "This is it. This is what we've been looking for."

The room hummed with a sinister energy, the air thick with enchantments. In the center, a box sat on the pedestal, its surface etched with runes that pulsed with a malevolent light. Harry and I approached it cautiously, our wands at the ready.

Harry tried a series of unlocking charms, each one more complex than the last. Nothing worked. The box remained stubbornly sealed, its secrets hidden behind layers of dark magic.

"Fuck," Harry muttered, frustration creeping into his voice. "This thing's sealed tighter than a dragon's arse."

I stared at the box, something nagging at the back of my mind. Then it hit me—the wooden key. The one I'd found in that old copper box. I reached into my pocket, pulling it out and holding it up to the light.

Harry's eyes widened with sudden realization. "Adrian, wait—"

But it was too late. The key slid into the lock with an eerie precision, turning with a smooth click. The enchantments on the box flared, and a sense of dread washed over me. The room's humming intensified, turning into a deafening roar.

"Shit," Harry hissed. "We walked right into a trap."

The walls shook, and the ground beneath us trembled. A loud, metallic clang echoed through the chamber, followed by the unmistakable sound of cell doors slamming open. The entire prison was coming undone.

We sprinted back down the passageway, the sounds of chaos growing louder with each step. The once orderly halls of Azkaban were now filled with shouts and screams, prisoners pouring out of their cells like a tide of madness.

"Fucking brilliant," I muttered, adrenaline surging through my veins. "What now, Potter?"

Harry's face was set in a grim mask. "We contain this, or all hell breaks loose."

We burst into the main corridor, the scene before us one of utter pandemonium. Prisoners were fighting guards, spells flying in every direction. The air was thick with the stench of fear and desperation.

I raised my wand, casting a shield charm just in time to deflect a hex aimed at my head. "Contain this? Are you out of your bloody mind?"

"We don't have a choice!" Harry shouted, his voice barely audible over the din. "We have to stop them before they reach the mainland."

I gritted my teeth, knowing he was right. This wasn't just about the wand anymore. This was about survival.

Together, we fought our way through the chaos, our spells cutting through the fray. Harry was a force of nature, every move precise and deadly. I matched him step for step, my own magic dark and relentless.

As we reached the central control room, Harry blasted the doors open with a powerful spell. Inside, Morrison was frantically trying to regain control, his face a mask of panic.

"Potter, thank Merlin!" he gasped. "The security system—it's been completely overridden!"

"No shit," I snapped, shoving past him to the control panel. "Can you lock them down again or not?"

Morrison's hands shook as he worked the controls. "I'm trying, but it's going to take time."

"Time we don't fucking have," Harry growled, his eyes scanning the monitors. "Do what you can. We'll hold them off."

****

The chaos behind me faded into a dull roar as I sprinted back towards the chamber, the adrenaline pumping through my veins like liquid fire. Harry had said to secure the wand, but I knew this was more than a simple retrieval mission. This was about survival, power, and a game of wits that I wasn't planning on losing.

I burst into the chamber, wand at the ready, and froze. Standing by the pedestal, examining the box, was a tall man with a grey, bushy beard and patchy hair. His eyes flicked to me, a smirk curling his lips. The arrogance radiating off him was palpable, a challenge that ignited a dark thrill in me.

I didn't waste a second. "Expulso!" I shouted, sending a blast of destructive energy towards him.

The old man deflected it with a lazy flick of his wand, the spell dissipating harmlessly. "Impressive," he drawled, his voice dripping with condescension. "But you'll need to do better than that, boy."

"Crucio!" I hissed, the curse shooting towards him with vicious intent. He sidestepped it effortlessly, his smirk never faltering.

"Is that the best you can do?" he taunted, waving his wand in a lazy arc. I felt a wave of force slam into me, sending me crashing against the wall. Pain lanced through my body, but I pushed it aside, focusing on the fight.

"Who the fuck are you?" I demanded, rising to my feet. "What's your game?"

He chuckled, a dark, mirthless sound. "I am Nicholas Highwill, the Third Wizard," he said, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "The one who co-created the wand you're so desperately trying to protect."

My mind raced, piecing together the fragments of information. The Third Wizard. One of the legendary trio who had crafted the wand that was now the center of this madness.

"Why are you here?" I spat, casting another series of spells that he dodged with infuriating ease. "What do you want?"

"I'm here to reclaim what's mine," he replied smoothly, countering my attacks with almost bored precision. "That wand belongs to me. To us. And I won't let a little shit like you stand in my way."

Anger flared hot in my chest. This bastard thought he could just waltz in and take what he wanted? Over my dead body.

"Protego Diabolica!" I shouted, conjuring a ring of black fire around me, the flames roaring with dark energy. Highwill's eyes widened slightly, the first crack in his composure.

"Impressive," he admitted, his tone begrudgingly respectful. "But ultimately futile."

He raised his wand, and I felt the pressure in the room shift, the air crackling with raw power. He was preparing something big, something I wasn't sure I could counter. Desperation clawed at me, and I forced myself to think, to stay one step ahead.

Then it hit me. The box. The key. If Highwill was one of the creators, he might be bound to it in ways I could exploit.

"Expelliarmus!" I yelled, aiming not at him, but at the box. The spell hit with a burst of light, and the enchantments around it flared violently. Highwill's eyes widened, and he let out a snarl of rage, his control slipping.

"You insolent brat!" he roared, and the room erupted in a maelstrom of magical energy. I was thrown back again, my body slamming into the wall, but I didn't let go of my wand.

As I struggled to my feet, I saw Highwill advancing, his expression murderous. Pain surged through my body as I struggled to rise, every movement a reminder of the old man's power. Highwill watched me with a mixture of amusement and calculation, his wand still pointed at me.

"Don't worry," he said, a sinister smile spreading across his face. "I'm not going to kill you. Not yet, anyway. You're the second phase of my plan."

I forced a laugh, though it came out as more of a pained gasp. "Second phase? What the fuck are you on about?"

Highwill's eyes gleamed with a twisted delight. "I'm not worthy of the wand, you see. But you, Adrian, you are."

I spat blood onto the floor, glaring up at him. "Is it because I'm a Lanceworth?"

His laughter echoed in the chamber, a dark, mocking sound. "Funny you think your father's ordinary bloodline makes you worthy," he sneered.

Before I could react, his wand flicked, and I felt a cold, creeping sensation wash over me. "Imperio!" he commanded, his voice wrapping around my mind like a vice.

I fought it, every part of me screaming to resist, but it was like trying to hold back a tidal wave. The spell took hold, and my thoughts became distant, my will slipping away. I felt myself kneeling, my body betraying me as I looked up at him.

The oppressive weight of the Imperius Curse dulled my senses, making the world around me feel distant and surreal. The only thing that seemed real was Highwill's presence, his voice wrapping around my mind like chains. 

"Pick up the wand," he ordered, his tone brooking no argument. "It is time."

My hand reached out, fingers trembling with a mixture of anticipation and reverence. The moment my skin brushed the wood, a surge of power coursed through me, the wand releasing an aura that pulsed in the air before settling into a deceptively normal appearance.

But I knew better. The wand had given me everything it promised. Knowledge of every charm, every curse, flooded my mind, a torrent of information that made me feel invincible. My head swam with the possibilities, each spell a new tool in my arsenal, each curse a weapon I could wield with precision.

I closed my eyes, letting the influx of power settle into my consciousness, my body humming with the newfound energy. Highwill had chosen well; this wand, this power, was meant for me. I was the perfect vessel, the ideal wielder of its dark gifts.

Highwill's laughter filled my mind, a sinister, approving sound. "You feel it, don't you? The power, the knowledge. It's all yours, Adrian. Use it well. Percival died before even scratching the true potential of the wand. But you have a chance to become the most dreaded wizard in the realm"

"Yes, Master," I murmured, my voice steady, unwavering. The wand felt like an extension of my own will, an instrument of my ambition and cunning.

With a flick of my wrist, I tested its weight, the spells already dancing at the edges of my thoughts. This was no ordinary wand; it was a weapon of unparalleled power, and it was mine to command.

"Remember, Adrian," Highwill's voice was a whisper, dark and compelling. "You are the harbinger of our new world. With this wand, you will shape destiny itself."

A slow, cold smile spread across my lips. "I understand, Master."

"You may go now," Highwill said, his tone commanding but almost casual, like he was dismissing a servant. "Return to Hogwarts and live your life as if nothing happened. Act normal. Meanwhile, I'll be recruiting new talent to serve our cause."

"Yes, Master," I replied, my voice hollow but obedient, devoid of any resistance.

Highwill's smile was a thin, satisfied line. "Good. Remember, Adrian, you are mine. Every thought, every action. You will serve me without question."

"Yes, Master," I repeated, the words now filled with an eerie sense of devotion and loyalty.

He turned away, dismissing me without another glance. I walked out of the chamber, each step mechanical, my mind a fog of absolute compliance and an unwavering belief in Highwill's cause. The chaos of Azkaban seemed to fade into the background as I made my way out, the sounds of battle and mayhem distant echoes in my ears.

The night was thick with shadows as I moved through the corridors of Azkaban, my mind singularly focused on the task at hand. The three men who opened the chamber had to be dealt with. No loose ends, no clues leading back to Highwill.

I found them huddled in a dark corner, their faces twisted with fear and confusion. They were simple-minded fools, driven by greed and ambition. They had no idea what they had unleashed.

"Diffindo," I whispered, my wand slashing through the air. The first man's throat opened in a gurgle of blood, his eyes widening in shock. The second man tried to scream, but I silenced him with a quick, lethal spell. The third, realizing too late, raised his wand in a feeble attempt to defend himself. I ended him with a blast of raw magic, his body crumpling to the floor.

I stood over their lifeless bodies, a cold satisfaction settling in my chest. They were obstacles, and obstacles were meant to be removed.

Next, I cast a powerful slumber charm, "Somnus Totalis," sending a wave of magic that put everyone within the vicinity into a deep, dreamless sleep. The sounds of chaos dwindled to silence as prisoners and guards alike slumped to the ground, unconscious.

With methodical precision, I moved through the prison, dragging the unconscious prisoners back into their cells. The heavy doors clanged shut, the wards reactivating with a series of muted clicks. It was tedious work, but necessary. Highwill's plan depended on maintaining control and secrecy.

Once everyone was secured, I moved to the final part of my task. Drawing on a deep reserve of magical energy, I cast the memory charm, "Obliviate," altering the memories of everyone involved. Their minds shifted, reality bending to my will.

"You will believe," I murmured, my voice low and commanding, "that Harry Potter cast the slumber charm and saved the day. He was the hero. He contained the chaos."

The spell took hold, and I felt a dark thrill at the power I wielded. They would wake up with no recollection of my involvement, no inkling of Highwill's true machinations.

As I finished, I stood in the now-quiet prison, my work complete. The bodies of the three men lay in a dark corner, their deaths unnoticed and unremarked.

****

Back at Harry's place, the tension was palpable. We stood around the table, the box resting in the center, its lid ominously ajar. Harry's eyes were locked on it, the expectation thick in the air. He gestured for me to open it, his expression a mixture of hope and trepidation.

I reached out, my hand steady, betraying none of the dark satisfaction that lurked beneath my facade. I lifted the lid, my breath catching in a perfect imitation of surprise.

It was empty.

Harry leaned in, his brow furrowing. "What the fuck?" he muttered, disbelief coloring his voice. "It's... it's empty."

I blinked, playing my part flawlessly. "You've got to be kidding me," I said, my tone filled with manufactured shock. "All that for a fucking empty box?"

Harry's face twisted with frustration, his fingers running through his hair. "This doesn't make any sense. We were so sure..."

I shrugged, my mind already calculating the next move. "Maybe it was a myth after all. You know how these things go. Legends, rumors... sometimes they're just that."

He shook his head, anger flashing in his eyes. "No, there has to be something we missed. Something we overlooked."

"Harry, mate," I said, my voice calm and persuasive, "we've been chasing shadows. Maybe it's time to accept that there's nothing there."

He stared at me, searching for a hint of deception, but I'd perfected my mask. "You really think so?" he asked, doubt creeping into his voice.

"Look at the evidence," I replied, gesturing to the empty box. "We've got nothing. Maybe we should focus on more concrete threats."

He sighed, the fight draining out of him. "Yeah, maybe you're right."

I placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder, the gesture as hollow as my words. "We'll figure it out. Together."

In Harry's study, the air was thick with anticipation. The vial of Harry's memory sat between us, an unassuming piece of glass containing secrets that could alter everything.

Harry's eyes met mine, a hint of uncertainty in his gaze. "Adrian, I want you to watch it alone. Even though it's my memory, it's respecting Adam's wishes."

I nodded, the weight of the wand in my pocket a constant reminder of my newfound power. "Alright, Harry. I'll take a look."

He handed me the vial, and I moved towards the Pensive, pouring the silvery liquid into the shallow basin. The memory swirled, inviting me in. I took a deep breath and leaned forward, letting the memory envelop me.

The scene shifted, and I found myself in an Auror office. The cluttered desk, the stacks of parchment, and the faint smell of burnt coffee created a familiar atmosphere. Adam was there, packing his stuff with a sense of urgency that bordered on desperation.

Harry burst through the door, his expression a mix of anger and concern. "Running won't help you, Adam. Her past will never cease to follow you and the baby."

Adam looked up, his eyes haunted. "Harry, I'm trying my best to start a new life. I need one favor from you. Forget everything you know about Adrian's mother, this conversation, and give me these memory fragments."

Harry's brow furrowed. "You know what you're asking, right? This isn't something to take lightly."

Adam's hands trembled slightly as he held out two small vials. "Please, Harry. It's the only way."

With a heavy sigh, Harry took the vials, his reluctance palpable. He raised his wand to his temple, extracting two shimmering strands of memory and filling the vials. The act seemed to weigh on him, each memory fragment representing a piece of the past he was about to lose.

"I hope you know what you're doing, Adam," Harry said, handing the vials back. "These fragments will erase everything I know about her and this conversation. You're sure this is what you want?"

Adam nodded, his resolve unshaken. "It's the only way to protect Adrian and give him a chance at a normal life."

The memory started to fade, pulling me back to the present. I blinked, the dim light of Harry's study coming into focus. The implications of what I'd seen settled in, a mixture of clarity and confusion swirling in my mind.

Harry was waiting, his eyes searching mine. "What did you see?"

I took a moment, the weight of the revelation pressing down on me. "It was about my father, Adam. He was trying to start a new life, away from the past."

Harry's expression softened, a flicker of understanding in his eyes. "He wanted to protect you, Adrian. To give you a fresh start."

I nodded, the pieces falling into place. "He made you forget everything about my mother and this conversation."

Harry sighed; the burden of his own forgotten memories clear. "Now you have a choice to make, Whether or not to continue this trail."