Homecoming from Hogwarts

Under the warm sunshine, which was completely different from that of Hogwarts, dozens of prisoners from Avalon Prison were wielding shovels and pickaxes, sweating profusely in the neatly divided black soil.

On both sides of the strip of field, there were four eight-eyed spiders guarding each side, staring at the prisoners working with a fierce look.

"Currently, the total number of prisoners admitted from Azkaban Prison and those admitted in recent months is 372--"

The prison regulations are strict, and the prisoners are all busy working without even looking around.

Barry led the young wizards to stand a little further away and gave them a brief introduction to the situation in Avalon Prison.

"372?"

Hermione, who was very sensitive to information, immediately called out briefly,

"But here"

"There are only eighty-six people here--"

Mr. Barry nodded and said amiably,
"Most of the prisoners transferred from Azkaban are serious criminals with sentences of more than ten years, and these prisoners..."

Barry paused and organized his words.
"Their minds have been severely damaged by the fear spread by the Dementors. They are unable to adapt to the normal management of Avalon Prison. Moreover, these prisoners always show strong aggressiveness when they gather together. Therefore, we have to divide them into different areas for separate custody."

Harry nodded grimly.

The horror of Azkaban was known to everyone. Even wizards like Hagrid and Remus, who Harry thought were not lacking in courage, would flash fear in the depths of their pupils when Azkaban was mentioned.

Although the incident had passed, every time Harry thought about it, Sirius was imprisoned in Azkaban for more than ten years.

He couldn't help but feel hatred for Peter Pettigrew in his heart.

Normally, watching a group of prisoners plowing and harrowing the fields would be a very boring thing, but none of the little wizards showed a trace of impatience.

They watched in silence as the prisoners wielded hoes in the fields, with unspeakable emotions in their hearts.

Most of these people were decent wizards when they were alive, but after being arrested, they looked like this.

This can be considered as the "benevolent policy" of the Ministry of Magic or Professor Braine.

If imprisoned in Azkaban, the prisoners can only stay in a small, dayless cell, waiting in fear for every visit of the Dementors.

"Professor Blaine"

Looking at the short old man bending over to plow the field in the bright sunshine, Theodore used all his strength to hold back his tears. An unspeakable sadness and hatred tormented him.

After hesitating for a while, he finally looked at Professor Brain, with a pleading tone in his voice.

"Can I go and help my father?"

Human favors cannot be taken away.

Amosta was not so cold. He nodded and said softly,
"Go ahead, have a good chat--"

With permission, Theodore immediately rushed out, picked up a hoe from the ridge, and ran towards his father.

"If there's anyone you know here, you can go up and chat with them. Don't worry, I'm here, there won't be any accidents--"

Amosta then spoke to the remaining little wizards.

Professor Brian's words caused a commotion among the young wizards, and some of them showed hesitation on their faces.

Amosta did not persuade him any further. He walked towards a thin-shouldered female prisoner not far away.

"How do you feel, Lady Jasna?"

"If it's compared to Azkabam, I can't find any faults -"

The female prisoner rubbed her sore palms, nodded gratefully to Amosta, and then asked impatiently,

"How is old Enma doing?"

"Harry."

Seeing that Professor Brain was chatting smoothly with a prisoner, Hermione became even more hesitant.

"Oh, I don't mind--"

Harry shrugged, guessing what Hermione was thinking.
"If you want, we can go talk to him."

The subject of discussion was, of course, Gilderoy Lockhart.

In their second year, he had been their Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, and Hermione still didn't want to recall her history of crazy worship of a great liar.

After all, she was so smart that she would worship a despicable wizard like that.
After seeing Gilderoy Lockhart again, Hermione no longer felt any shame for being deceived.

It's just as Harry said, she wanted to talk to this person, simply wanting to know what Gilderoy Lockhart was like now.

"Come on, Harry—"

Taking a deep breath, Hermione made up her mind and led the way forward.

The two men walked across a field where most of the soil had been turned over, one step deep and one step shallow, and approached the blond wizard.

Although they were busy working, all the prisoners were secretly observing the little wizards of Hogwarts.

Regardless of whether they were acquaintances among these little wizards, this made them feel deeply moved. After all, they were also the pride of Hogwarts.

Judging from the way Lockhart's neck shrank, he seemed a little afraid to face Hermione and Harry.

"Professor Lockhart—"

Hermione walked behind him, clasped her hands and called softly.

Lockhart couldn't pretend he didn't see it. He straightened up, leaned on the hoe with one hand, and brushed the wet hair that hung in front of his eyes.
The action almost made Harry laugh out loud.

"Hey, it's you, the famous Mr. Potter. Oh, and Miss Granger--"

Obeying muscle memory, Gilderoy Lockhart grinned.

Seeing this more familiar smile, Harry no longer had the urge to laugh. An indescribable emotion surged in his heart.

The atmosphere was a little awkward, both for Lockhart and for Hermione and Harry.

"Oh, time flies, doesn't it? You were just little kids back then, and now, look at you, Mr. Potter, you're almost as tall as me!"

The gloomy expressions on Harry and Hermione made Lockhart's smile falter, and he spoke with gritted teeth.

Harry's eyebrows moved.

Harry felt a pang of pain in his teeth when he heard this.

Unlike Hermione, he had never been very fond of Gilderoy Lockhart, but since he had been punished, Harry didn't have much of a lingering feeling about it.

"Professor Lockhart—"

Seeing that Hermione remained silent, Harry had to find a topic to talk about.
"How have you been lately?"

"Oh, I'm so satisfied!"

Lockhart immediately found the right feeling. He grinned and smiled brightly.

"Compared to Azkabam, this place is simply heaven. There are no scary Dementors, and the cells are clean. I can get out every day to bask in the sun and read the newspaper. Oh, the guards are even willing to give me an hour every night to write a book!"

“Are you still writing a book?”

Hermione looked surprised and couldn't help asking.

"Oh, of course—"

Lockhart was in high spirits when talking about his profession.

"In my new book, I describe in detail how I stayed sober and sane while being tortured by Dementors during the more than two years I was imprisoned in Azkaban. I swear, this story is definitely more exciting than subduing werewolves, vampires, trolls, etc.!
This book will be finished in about a year.
In fact, I also wanted to write about Avalon Prison in this book, but the guards here told me that everything in Avalon is top secret, and when I get out of prison, I need to sign a contract to ensure that I don’t disclose anything here! "

Listening to Lockhart chattering on about his book, Harry and Hermione looked at each other and smiled at the same time.

At least, the stories in this book are definitely Professor Lockhart's personal experiences.

Having said that, Harry looked at Gilderoy Lockhart with a little respect.

He had heard many horror stories about Azkaban, and that many powerful wizards were completely powerless against Dementors.

But looking at Lockhart's mental state, there was not much sign of being tortured by Dementors.

If the Ministry of Magic were still using Azkaban, then Lockhart's new book might be very popular!
"Master Barry told me that if I can continue to behave well, maybe I can apply for parole in less than five years. When the time comes, I will use the rest of my gold to find a publishing house to publish my new book. I can send you two a signed copy of my new book!"

Lockhart sniffed and looked at the two expectantly, as if he was afraid they would refuse.

Well.
Harry nodded reluctantly.
"Thank you, Professor Lockhart. I look forward to--"

"Oh, you're welcome, Mr. Potter. Anyway."

Lockhart lowered his eyes to Harry's bulging pockets, licked his lips, and swallowed his saliva with a gulp.
"If my sense of smell hasn't been ruined by those stinking cells in Azkaban, Mr. Potter, you brought food, didn't you?" (End of this chapter)