Harry returns from Hogwarts Legacy

Chapter 390 Death Eaters Attack Downing Street
There's another interesting anecdote about Sklab prison.

Mr. Major's comparison of Sklab prison to Azkaban prison is indeed not incongruous.

Because both of these prisons had a man named Blake who successfully escaped.

Sirius Black escaped from Azkaban, while George Black escaped from Sklab prison.

Speaking of this Mr. Blake, he became the famous agent codenamed "Diamond" in later generations.

On May 3, 1961, the Central Criminal Court of London sentenced George Black to 42 years in prison for treason, the harshest sentence ever handed down in Britain since the abolition of the death penalty.

Black was initially held at Scrab Prison in North London and placed under “special custody,” a special measure taken for prisoners who might escape. However, four months later, Sir Roger Hollis, the Director General of the Secret Security Service, informed the prison authorities that the investigation into Black had concluded and requested that Black be released from “special custody.”

So the warden assigned Blake to a regular single cell in the fourth row of cells and made him the prison's Arabic correspondence instructor.

From then on, Blake made several good friends in prison and together they planned an escape.

In 1966, he finally found his opportunity.

On Saturday, October 22, during a movie screening, someone shoved an iron rod into Blake's cell.

Blake pried open the iron window with an iron bar and climbed out from the roof. It was pitch black, and rain was pouring down.

He sprinted to the wall 15 feet away, grabbed the nylon rope ladder that Burke had already placed on it, and quickly scaled the wall to escape. Unfortunately, he broke his arm when he jumped off the wall. Black hid in a residence north of London for two months, evading the peak of the police manhunt.

Later, Rand Michel hid Blake under the bed of a convertible car, crossed the Dover ferry to Belgium, then traveled through West Germany to East Germany, and finally took a plane to Moscow.

But Mr. Black's precise breach of Dai Ying's defenses did not end there. After escaping from prison, he wrote an autobiography satirizing Dai Ying, but the British government refused to pay royalties, so Mr. Black took Dai Ying to court.

The most difficult part was that he won the lawsuit, and Britain had to pay his royalties.

It's quite surprising that Mr. Major could even bring up this prison... well, actually, it doesn't really concern him much, since it didn't happen during his time as Prime Minister, so it's not exactly a disgrace to him.

A sudden thought flashed through his mind, and he remembered some scenes that seemed familiar.

So he asked urgently, "Could it be... that someone has escaped from Azkaban?"

“Yes, Mr. Major,” Sirius said, rubbing his forehead. “Not just one. According to statistics, a total of thirteen vicious dark wizards escaped from Azkaban. They are now missing, and there is reason to suspect that they have found their master, Voldemort—”

Mr. Major is confused.

“Voldemort?” Mr. Major thought for a moment, then asked, “Who is Voldemort?”

"Don't tell me you don't know Voldemort." Sirius Black's expression was somewhat exaggerated, then he suddenly realized and said, "Oh, oh, I guess it's because that coward Fudge never dared to tell you his name, right?"

“Yes,” Mr. Major nodded. “I found it strange at the time that he didn’t even dare to mention the person’s name, as if the name was something terrifying.”

“Some say he put a curse on that name,” Sirius Black said with a shrug. “But I don’t think Voldemort would come after a Muggle just because they say that name, do you think?”

Mr. Major's Adam's apple bobbed as he looked around and decided he should increase security at 10 Downing Street.

"Don't worry, Voldemort won't come to kill you," Sirius Black said with a smile, reassuring Mr. Major.

"What if he really wants to kill me?" Mr. Major tried to keep his expression calm.

"Don't worry, the spell kills very quickly and without much pain, just like Voldemort's favorite spell—Avada Kedavra." Sirius chuckled as he told Mr. Major a horror story typical of the wizarding world: "It won't cause you any pain; it will just take your life away directly."

Mr. Major's face turned ashen.

"Of course, if he chooses to use the Imperius Curse to make you fall from the building, try to make sure you land headfirst," Sirius added. "That will make it feel quicker."

"Alright, alright, let's not talk about how this person whose name can't even be mentioned killed me." Mr. Major's face turned pale and then red. He held up his hands in a stop gesture and then said, "So what do you think this person whose name can't even be mentioned will do when he comes back?"

“It’s hard to say, which is why I came to tell you this,” Sirius said earnestly.

Mr. Major remained silent.

He scrutinized Sirius for a while before finally speaking, "So, what is it that I can do?"

“I have some lists here.” Sirius Black took out his wand and tapped it a few times in front of him. To the astonishment of his secretary Bernard and Prime Minister Major, photos and biographical sketches appeared on the table, lined up neatly in a row.

The two huddled together, their eyes fixed on the photos, marveling at them.

One of the women, in particular, with disheveled hair, was holding a cardboard sign with her name on it and was screaming and yelling wildly at the camera.

She looks like a crazy woman...

Bernard even wondered if he would have nightmares when he got home that night…

“No matter how many times I see it, I’m still amazed by these moving photos,” Mr. Major remarked. “But… do you have any photos that look more normal? I remember you have a rule against exposing the magical world to ordinary people, right?”

“It was my oversight.” Sirius tapped the table with his wand, and the photos stopped moving. “I will publish these photos,” Mr. Major said earnestly.

He had no choice but to take it seriously, as it concerned his career and future; a slight misstep could ruin everything.

“I should remind you, Mr. Prime Minister—these people have caused a great deal of damage since they made their public appearances. The Brockdale Bridge—he's the one who brought it down, Mr. Prime Minister…they are a bunch of complete thugs,” Sirius said.

"My God, it turns out that the deaths of those people were all your fault, while I was forced to answer those absurd questions about rusty equipment, corroded expansion joints, and so on!" the Prime Minister said angrily.

“This cannot be blamed on me, Prime Minister,” Sirius said helplessly. “It is the evil done by the dark wizards…”

“But you are the Minister for Magic! Not me!” Mr. Major said angrily. “Do you know how many times I’ve been questioned by apes in this zoo-like House of Commons this week? I don’t think you can imagine how embarrassing it is… I’m going crazy! Being questioned by a responsibility that isn’t even mine!”

With each step Mr. Major took, his anger grew. He had discovered the cause of all those terrible disasters, yet he couldn't tell the public—it was infuriating that it would have been better if it had been government negligence.

“I suppose you’re going to tell me next that he was also responsible for that hurricane in the west?” he asked again.

"There was no hurricane at all," Sirius said helplessly.

"What did you say?!" the Prime Minister roared, already stamping his foot in frustration. "Trees uprooted, roofs ripped off, road signs bent, mass casualties—and you're telling me now there was no hurricane at all, but destruction caused by those dark wizards?!"

“That’s just how it is.” Sirius rubbed his eyelids and said to Mr. Major, “Listen, Mr. Major, all I can do right now is send a team of Aurors into your cabinet. These wizards will be in charge of your security.”

Mr. Major's face froze.

“Of course, it’s not entirely your fault.” His expression softened as he said to Sirius, “After all, how could we possibly predict where those dark wizards would carry out their destructive activities? Of course… I still hope that your department can quickly apprehend these dark wizards to prevent further damage, don’t you think?”

Sirius nodded and said, "Of course, things haven't been completely without progress... It's just that the Ministry of Magic has been extremely busy lately. They're hunting down these dark wizards, and we've also sent out several batches of memory erasers to rewrite the memories of all the Muggles who witnessed what happened. It's a huge undertaking."

"Also," Sirius said again, "there are a few more pieces of good news that I think I should share with you, Mr. Prime Minister—we have learned that Voldemort once tried to recruit Dementors and giants, but he did not succeed."

“Soul-capturing…soul-capturing what?” Mr. Major’s eyes were clearly swirling with confusion.

"Dementors are non-existent beings, dark creatures, considered by people to be the ugliest things in the world." Sirius began to explain to Mr. Major what Dementors were: "These things suck people's happiness, thus causing those who come near them to feel depressed and desperate. They can also suck people's souls, turning them into a kind of walking corpse, leaving only an 'empty shell.' Therefore, Dementors are also said to be 'devils that steal other people's souls.'"

"You actually let such a dangerous thing guard the prison?!" Mr. Major looked incredulous.

“Since the island was discovered, it has become a paradise for Dementors,” Sirius explained to Mr. Major. “In 1718, Damocles Roll was elected Minister of Magic. He insisted on choosing Azkaban as the wizarding prison, believing that the Dementors on the island could serve as guards, saving time, money, and effort—despite opposition, the plan was implemented.”

"Because there have been almost no escapes or breaches of the secrecy statute, Azkaban has always served as a prison in the magical world. It was also from that time that Dementors served the Ministry of Magic as guards of Azkaban. Because of this, they could survive by feeding on the positive emotions of prisoners within the high walls."

"Then why didn't they accept Voldemort's offer?" Mr. Major asked, puzzled. "I have reason to believe that such a habit... Voldemort would have offered a price that you respectable wizards couldn't, like letting them freely consume the pleasures of Muggles..."

“Because of him,” Sirius said to Mr. Major, glancing at his godson beside him.

"Him?" Mr. Major also glanced at Harry, who had been sitting silently in place, clearly somewhat incredulous.

Bernard did the same; he straightened up, intending to take a good look at the young boy.

He had always assumed that the boy was a junior to the Minister of Magic in front of him, and that he was simply there to broaden the boy's horizons.

If Harry knew what Bernard was thinking, he would definitely laugh out loud.

Broaden your horizons?
Emperor Franz of Austria-Hungary and Emperor Wilhelm II of Germany were far superior to you. I chatted and laughed with them!

“Oh.” Sirius smiled and said, “Harry is my godson, but he is also the most talented wizard in hundreds of years. The reason why those Dementors dared not accept Voldemort’s invitation is because of my godson.”

"Really?" Mr. Major's face clearly showed disbelief.

Sirius didn't explain much. If you don't believe me, you don't believe me. There's no need to show off in front of a Muggle. So what if he's the prime minister?

Why should I, Sirius, need to explain my actions to others?
However, at that moment, the living room window suddenly moved.

The wind and rain were howling outside, and the windows were shaking violently.

Suddenly, the window disappeared, and the sound of the wind and rain outside became even clearer to everyone inside.

Mr. Major noticed the mysteriously vanished window. He swallowed hard and pointed at the window, saying to Sirius, "Minister, the window... the window is gone!"

Even though he had just displayed the demeanor of a composed and unyielding pastry chef, when faced with a real life-or-death crisis, Mr. Major was a bit of a coward.

Just kidding. Life is only once. Who would want to joke about their life?

The lights in the living room suddenly flickered and then went out, plunging the surroundings into darkness. Only the dim light from the streetlights illuminated the living room.

Immediately afterwards, plumes of black smoke suddenly rose from outside, transforming into long rainbows in the sky before rapidly swooping down toward 10 Downing Street.

The black smoke landed and transformed into wizards wearing black cloaks and various terrifying masks.

(End of this chapter)