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

Chapter 37 - The Daily Prophet

The Daily Prophet
Issue No. 102,215
12 June, 2022

Summer Interns Needed!

Do you have a passion for journalism? Does working at our paper sound inspiring and fun? Then we have the perfect idea for you: Open to any young people between the ages of 16 and 18, we will be taking several summer interns this year. Not only will this opportunity enhance your resume, it will also give you a leg up in the business...

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I stumbled out into the Leaky Cauldron, and was immediately pushed towards a shadowy corner by Colette. Wren and Albus were there, as well, and all three had their hoods pulled up, throwing shadows over their faces. I self-consciously tugged mine forward as well, glancing around the pub. "Is something wrong?"

Albus shushed me, gesturing across the near-empty room. I gave it a closer inspection at that. There was a mum and dad with two young children, squabbling loudly over ice cream flavors. An old woman was dozing in a chair by the fire, her knitting needles clacking away on their own. I finally saw Albus was motioning to: A group of wizards sitting at one table, their hats low, shadowing their eyes. They were talking in low whispers, but they all seemed fairly at ease, glancing around and grinning and not bothering to hide. I frowned; to me, they still seemed highly suspicious, but the bartender was ignoring them, caught up in flirting with two young witches at the counter.

"I recognize that one," Wren whispered, nodding at the youngest of the men. "He's supposed to be in Azkaban."

I frowned; surely that couldn't be right. If someone had escaped from Azkaban, surely that would've been all over the news. Or... Maybe it wouldn't have been. I squinted at the wizard, trying to be sly. He was tanner than anyone who'd spent a good few months in Azkaban had any right to be, though that may have been natural. His shaggy black hair peaked out from under his hat. As he turned his head slightly, glancing at the two girls at the bar, I caught a look at his face and gasped.

"I've seen him before," I said softly.

Wren nodded. "That's Magnus Caldwell," she whispered.

"Wasn't he Kirsten Sorenson's contact outside Hogwarts or something?" Albus asked, frowning.

"Yes. They caught him in Hogsmeade last January, I think." Wren motioned to me. "Astra was there when I identified him, weren't you?"

I nodded. "How on earth did he get out of prison already? Surely his sentence isn't up?"

"Azkaban is a sentence for life," Colette said tersely. "He doesn't look very dead to me, does he?"

"Shut it."

"You asked." Colette slowly started walking towards the back door. "We've got to get out of here. They're surely in London for a reason."

"We don't have much time at all," Albus said quietly, for what must've been the tenth time that day.

We slipped out the door, and I let out a breath of relief. At least they hadn't noticed us. "I still don't understand how he's out of prison."

"People have broken out before," Albus said. "It's really difficult, but it's possible. Stillens has a lot of resources at his disposal."

"The real question is: why wasn't in the papers? Even on the radio? Why hasn't anyone heard anything?" Colette frowned. "I mean, I understand why Stillens wouldn't want it common knowledge, but surely he couldn't suppress something like this. Word would have gotten out somehow, right?"

"Magnus wouldn't have been the only one broken out, either," Wren said, growing slightly pale. "The Ministry's captured several agents, and to be honest, Magnus is probably the least reliable one. He has anger issues. My uncle said he was frustrating."