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Chapter 68 - Chapter 67

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Chapter 67: Shadows in Azkaban

Amelia Bones stood at the edge of the broken cell, her sharp eyes scanning the devastation before her. A gaping hole in the thick, enchanted stone wall of Azkaban Prison opened to the stormy sky and the dark, churning waters below. The prison's infamous chill seemed even more pronounced in the wake of the breakout.

Beside her, Alastor Moody surveyed the scene with his magical eye whirling in its socket. "Bloody impressive," he muttered, his voice low and grim. "Not many could break out of Azkaban like this."

Amelia crossed her arms. "I don't want to be impressed, Alastor. I want to know how it happened."

The warden, a wiry, gray-haired man with deep lines etched into his face, cleared his throat. "Ma'am, we were taken completely off guard. The infiltrator used deception, not brute force."

"Explain," Amelia commanded.

The warden took a steadying breath. "A man arrived at the prison yesterday evening, magically disguised as Bartemius Crouch Senior. He had all the right papers, all the right mannerisms. He told the guards he wanted to see Rodolphus Lestrange."

Moody's magical eye whirled to lock onto the warden. "And no one thought it suspicious that Crouch, of all people, wanted to visit a known Death Eater?"

The warden shifted uncomfortably. "He was thorough, Moody. Passed all our standard checks—no Polyjuice, no illusions. We even checked for possession. The disguise was human transfiguration, and a damn good one."

Amelia frowned. Transfiguration on a living subject was advanced magic. Most wizards couldn't even attempt it, much less pull it off with such perfection that they could deceive an entire prison's worth of Aurors.

"The guard who escorted 'Crouch' to Lestrange's cell said that as soon as they arrived, the impostor stunned him and two others," the warden continued. "He stole the keys, then freed four prisoners—Rodolphus Lestrange, Rabastan Lestrange, Antonin Dolohov, and Bellatrix Lestrange."

Amelia felt a cold fury settle in her stomach. Bellatrix. One of the most dangerous Death Eaters to have ever lived. If she was free again, the body count would start rising soon.

"The imposter had their wands," the warden went on. "As soon as they were out of their cells, he handed each of them their wand and then blew open the bloody wall. They all launched themselves into the air with powerful levitation spells, avoiding the Dementors entirely, and apparated away the moment they passed the prison wards."

Amelia's fists clenched. "No casualties?"

"None. The imposter only stunned our men. None of them were killed or even seriously injured."

Moody let out a low growl. "That means time was a factor. If he had minutes instead of seconds, we'd be counting bodies instead of injuries."

"Any idea how they got their wands?" Amelia asked, forcing herself to focus. "Azkaban doesn't store confiscated wands."

The warden shook his head. "They must have been smuggled in ahead of time. We'll need to conduct a full investigation, check our records."

Amelia turned to Moody. "Thoughts?"

Moody exhaled sharply. "This wasn't just a random escape attempt. Whoever pulled this off knew exactly what they were doing. This was careful, precise." He gestured at the gaping hole in the prison. "And they were selective. They didn't free just any Death Eaters—only the most fanatically loyal ones."

"There are other Death Eaters in Azkaban," Amelia pointed out. "Why not free them all?"

Moody's expression darkened. "Because the imposter didn't trust them. Which means we're dealing with someone who has intimate knowledge of the Dark Lord's inner circle. Not just a follower—one of his most trusted."

Amelia nodded grimly. "And someone who believes in the Dark Lord and his cause even now."

Moody let out a short bark of laughter. "They won't be thinkin' that for long."

Amelia gave him a sharp look. "What do you mean?"

Moody smirked, though there was no humor in it. "You saw it, same as me. The Dark Mark is gone. Every Death Eater left in Britain woke up a few days ago with a blank arm."

Amelia inhaled sharply. She had heard the reports, of course. Every Auror had. The Dark Mark—Voldemort's signature, the magical link that bound him to his followers—had vanished overnight. There had been no grand battle, no public announcement. Just silence. And then—gone.

Voldemort was dead.

And yet, someone had still broken into Azkaban to free his most dangerous followers.

She met Moody's gaze. "Can we track the imposter?"

Moody gave a slow, deliberate nod. "I can count on one hand the number of wizards capable of casting human transfiguration on someone with this level of precision. And even fewer of them would be fool enough to help someone so they break other Death Eaters out of Azkaban."

"You'll have a name for me soon, then?" Amelia asked.

Moody's expression turned grim. "Less than two days." Then he hesitated, glancing back at the ruined cell. "But something tells me it won't come to that."

Amelia understood.

Whoever had orchestrated this breakout was already moving. And by the time they would already have a good idea who this impostor is.

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