Harry Potter: Archmage of Another World

Time passed, and the seasons shifted. England's weather turned from the scorching heat of summer to the crisp coolness of autumn. The bright blue sky began to take on the golden hues of late fall. Julius' group continued their weekly gatherings, with Hermione's diligent practice of Light Magic consistently keeping her ahead in progress. Luna, Cho Chang, and Angelina followed closely behind, their rapid improvement evident. Among the group of magical apprentices, it seemed as though the women were outperforming the men in their progress.

"Big news," Malfoy announced, holding up a copy of the Daily Prophet. He looked around smugly, as if waiting for someone to acknowledge him. "The Azkaban breakout! What a disgrace for the Ministry of Magic. Looks like the Dark Lord just gained a few more loyal allies."

Augustus calmly picked up the newspaper from the table and scanned the front page. Ten black-and-white photographs dominated the headlines: nine male wizards and one female witch, each depicted in their mugshots. Some sneered silently, others arrogantly tapped the edges of their frames. Beneath each photo was a name and a summary of their crimes that led to imprisonment in Azkaban.

Antonin Dolohov, with a pale, twisted face, smirked coldly from the page. His crime: the brutal murders of Gideon and Fabian Prewett.

Augustus Rookwood, an oily-haired man with a sallow face, leaned indifferently against the frame, convicted of leaking Ministry secrets to the Dark Lord.

Augustus' gaze lingered on a woman in the center of the article. Her black hair was wild and disheveled, her thin lips curled into a proud, contemptuous smile. Like Sirius Black, she retained traces of former beauty, but something—perhaps Azkaban—had robbed her of most of it.

"Sirius' cousin?" Lillian asked with interest as she sat next to Augustus, her eyes also falling on the woman in the photograph. "Do you think she might be innocent, like Sirius was?"

"Clearly not," Augustus replied calmly, tearing off a piece of toast. He shook his head slightly. "Neville's parents are still in St. Mungo's, suffering from the aftereffects of the Cruciatus Curse. That spell often leaves a distinct mark from its caster. If the Ministry got that wrong, it might as well not exist."

"In that case, this direct member of the Black family must be one of Voldemort's most loyal followers," Lillian mused, resting her chin on her hand. Her crimson eyes glinted with curiosity. "Though it's quite the anomaly for someone like Sirius to have been a member of the Order of the Phoenix in such a family."

"Friendship, not ideology," Augustus remarked, wiping his mouth before continuing to read.

The Ministry of Magic announced late last night that a massive breakout had occurred at Azkaban.

Minister Cornelius Fudge, interviewed in his office, confirmed that ten high-security prisoners had escaped the previous night. He informed the Muggle Prime Minister about the fugitives' danger and assured that the Ministry was working tirelessly to recapture them. He also urged the public to remain vigilant and to avoid these dangerous criminals at all costs.

Augustus glanced at the picture of Fudge's anxious face in the article and chuckled lightly. "The longer Fudge suppresses the issue of Voldemort, the worse the Ministry's position will become in the future." He muttered to himself, "Looks like it's time to send a letter back."

Finishing his pumpkin juice, Augustus stood and headed toward the library.

Hagrid was standing at the entrance, letting a group of Ravenclaw students pass. He still looked as battered as he had upon returning from his search for the giants, with a fresh wound now marking the bridge of his nose.

"Hey, Mr. Augustus," Hagrid greeted with a warm smile.

"Oh, Hagrid," Augustus nodded and smiled gently. "How's everything going? No trouble, I hope?"

"Good, good," Hagrid replied, feigning cheerfulness as he waved his large hand—nearly hitting a startled Professor Vector. "Just busy, you know—classes, taking care of two salamanders with scale rot... under observation, I am," he muttered.

"Observation?" Augustus' refined features revealed a hint of curiosity before realization dawned. "Ah, Umbridge. Don't worry too much. Soon, she probably won't have the time to meddle with Hogwarts' staff anymore."

Hagrid looked at Augustus in confusion, then dismissed it as mere reassurance and chuckled heartily. "It's not so bad, really. Groundskeeping's still a good post. Honestly, I expected this after that inquiry."

"Still, it'd be nice if the observation ended. I'd rather be introducing the students to some new magical creatures." Hagrid smiled sheepishly, then sighed. "Oh well," he said, heading off. "Time to get some chili powder for the salamanders' tails before they fall off. See you, Mr. Augustus."

He trudged away, leaving the castle and descending the steps into the damp grounds. Augustus watched his retreating figure, shaking his head with a faint smile.

The news of Hagrid's "observation" spread quickly around the school. While Harry and his friends were saddened, not everyone shared the sentiment—Draco Malfoy, in particular, seemed delighted. But the primary topic in the hallways was the escape of the ten Death Eaters. The news had finally permeated through the school, thanks to the few students who read the Daily Prophet.

Rumors swirled that some of the fugitives had been spotted in Hogsmeade, hiding in the Shrieking Shack, and might even break into Hogwarts like Sirius Black once did.

Students from wizarding families had grown up hearing tales of these Death Eaters, their names nearly as fearsome as Voldemort's. Their atrocities during Voldemort's reign were infamous. Among the students were relatives of victims, now reluctantly thrust into the spotlight. Susan Bones, whose relatives had been murdered by one of the escapees, confided during Herbology that she now fully understood what Harry had endured.

"I don't know how you managed it. It's terrifying," she said earnestly. These days, Susan found solace only during Julius' group gatherings, where she could escape the prying eyes of others.

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