The Spark {Book 5 in the Star of Gryffindor Series}

Chapter 16 - Azkaban

The Daily Prophet
Issue No. 102,040
20 December, 2021

SCANDAL: Connections Between Head of Department of International Magical Cooperation And American Terrorists

The world reels as one of the highest Ministry officials, Pedalus Kingsman, is discovered to have connections to the infamous American terrorists, Isaac and Katreena Predatel. Kingsman's goddaughter, Zaria Hempsey, was caught and implicated in the St. Mungo's bombing. It is unknown whether Kingsman approved on Hempsey's actions; however, recent findings have proven that he was giving her lodging at the time of the attack. When she was caught, he tried to erase all connections to her to spare his name...

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I shivered a little as the ferry puttered its way toward the island. It was a cold, gray day as it was, but as we drew nearer to little speck shrouded in darkness, I could feel the temperature dropping even more. I understood now why Mr. Potter had suggested I wear a couple of layers.

A blue glow of light behind me made me turn around. Mr. Potter had cast a Patronus, and a blue-ish white stag stood taller than me on the deck of the ferry. "We'll be feeling the effects soon," he explained.

A couple of the aurors who had come with us also cast Patronuses. "Should I...?" I asked, nodding my head toward all of theirs.

Mr. Potter shook his head. "The fact that you can do a Patronus isn't common knowledge, and I don't think it should be."

I nodded, looking back at the island. It was growing bigger by the minute. With it grew my apprehension. Maybe I hadn't thought this through. Maybe this was a terrible idea. My father had been in prison for 15 years; he probably wouldn't even remember he had a daughter. This long around so many dementors would drive someone crazy. What if he just babbled about nothing? What if none of my questions were answered?

That's just the dementors, I realized. Even this far out, so many of them in one concentrated space were bound to mess with my head. I needed to stay optimistic. Especially here. But what if— Nope. Optimistic.

"This isn't a waste of time, is it?" I asked in a small voice. Hearing Mr. Potter say it wasn't would help fortify me.

Mr. Potter frowned at the horizon. Our boat was beginning to drift into the black mist surrounding the island. "You know, the last time I was here was visiting your father. Told him you'd survived. Told him what an amazing person you'd become. He seemed to comprehend it. I think he must have a very strong will. After all, he deserted Voldemort. Perhaps it's helping with the dementors, some, because when I spoke to him, he didn't sound entirely crazy."

I smiled. "So I got my strong will from him?"

"I'd think so." Mr. Potter put his arm around me, smiling at me. "Perhaps not the best thing he could've passed on..."

"I happen to like my strong will, thank you," I said.

The ferry was completely surrounded by the black mist. The temperature had dropped by at least ten degrees. I pulled my scarf out of my book bag. The red and gold on it were the only bright things to be seen. In the gloom, they seemed to shine like beacons of light.

Blackness was the only thing I could see ahead of me for a while. "There wasn't always mist," Mr. Potter said under his breath. "After many of Voldemort's followers escaped during the war, though, aided by others outside, the Ministry decided it would be better if you couldn't actually see the prison, wizard or not."