Harry Potter and the Candy Factory

Charlie's expensive leather shoes slowly landed on this desolate island, isolated from the world, covered in rubble and debris, and devoid of any vitality.

The surging waves were like tireless monsters, relentlessly crashing against the coastal reefs, creating a "whooshing" sound as if they could completely submerge it at any moment.

He raised his head and slowly looked towards the towering fortress built from black bedrock in the center of the island, which soared into the clouds, and for a moment, he couldn't help but feel a sense of disorientation. Vaguely, he seemed to hear the shrill screams that could shake anyone's soul, and the silent murmurs of the Dementors living within.

"Is this your first time coming to this godforsaken place?"

Seemingly noticing Charlie's brief discomfort, Scrimgeour turned his head, interrupting his engrossed gaze, and thoughtfully struck up a conversation with him.

Only then did Charlie pull his consciousness back to reality from his brief daze. When he blinked his eyes and looked again at the enormous fortress-like prison, everything from before suddenly disappeared, as if it had never happened at all.

"Yes, it is indeed my first time."

He didn't deny it, giving Scrimgeour a kind smile to express his gratitude, and then answered truthfully.

"That's for the best..."

Scrimgeour said noncommittally, then lowered his head and vigorously ground the gravel mixed with pebbles under his thick-soled shoes.

"On this patch of land, less than a few hundred square meters, the bodies of thousands of Muggles were once buried. Those unwilling souls, even now, still cling to this place, emitting heart-wrenching wails..."

Having said that, Scrimgeour raised his head and looked at Charlie again, a faint smile appearing on his serious face, curling up from the corners of his mouth.

"I remember the first time I came to Azkaban as an Auror on duty, I didn't get a good night's sleep for three whole days. That was truly a terrible experience."

"What happened here before?"

Clearly, Charlie hadn't done much in-depth research on the history of this prison before coming here. So much so that when he heard the other party's words, a look of surprise immediately appeared in his eyes. Looking around, he couldn't help but click his tongue in amazement.

"If you're interested, I'd be happy to tell you the story of Azkaban before it was built."

Seeming like the wind blowing from the sea was getting colder, Scrimgeour tightened the thick wool coat he was wearing, and then slowly walked towards the only entrance of this towering prison...

"Of course."

Charlie didn't refuse, nodding his head and continuing to follow the other party's pace.

Scrimgeour stopped in front of the door, organizing his thoughts. After a moment, he cleared his throat and began to slowly recount the history from hundreds of years ago.

"Actually, in the beginning, Azkaban was not a prison, but a nameless fortress. Its owner, Ekrizdis, used magic to conceal its existence, causing it to never appear on any map, existing only in the stories passed down by sailors at sea..."

"In those Muggle sailors' stories, this was a treasure trove filled with endless wealth. As long as they set foot here, the amiable Ekrizdis would fulfill all their wishes, making them heroes, kings, rich people, and so on... the identities they dreamed of."

"And so, gradually, many people who went to sea began to regard finding this treasure trove, which only existed in legends, as their lifelong dream. However, when those poor and foolish Muggles really set foot on the island, what awaited them was not countless riches and the wishes they dreamed of, but a group of hungry Dementors and a cruel and twisted evil wizard."

Charlie listened to the story with great interest, his eyes widening slightly. For a moment, he even forgot that the main purpose of his visit was to visit his unfortunate relative.

Scrimgeour's story continued:

"Those stories were all spread by Ekrizdis. His purpose was to lure those foolish Muggles here, and then torture and kill them, in order to satisfy his twisted hobbies... According to the information recorded by the Ministry of Magic after landing on the island, during the hundred years or so that Ekrizdis was alive, at least thousands of Muggles died tragically here and became a part of this isolated island. It wasn't until after his death that the island's curse finally disappeared, allowing people to notice its existence."

Speaking of this, he finally paused and shrugged his shoulders.

"There's not much left to say. Originally, the Ministry of Magic planned to destroy this place along with Ekrizdis's fortress, but they were afraid that after the island was destroyed, the Dementors living on it would scatter and turn into a disaster. And so, under the conflicting arguments of two opposing voices, this island was forcibly shelved for as long as a century. It wasn't until 1718, when Damocles Rowle was elected Minister for Magic, that he insisted on using this island as a prison and named it Azkaban.

Because he believed that the Dementors on the island could act as guards, saving time, money, and effort. Despite the opposition, this plan was implemented. Since there were hardly any breakouts or violations of the International Statute of Secrecy, Azkaban has always played the role of a prison in the wizarding world, until now."

Having finished speaking, Scrimgeour took out his wand and pointed it at the tightly closed gates of Azkaban.

"Alright, that's the end of the story for now... Next, we will officially enter this damned place. Be prepared, if you see those filthy Dementors flying towards you, don't be polite, just use the Patronus Charm to fight back!"

"Okay," Charlie responded, putting the story aside and refocusing his attention on what was in front of him. Immediately afterwards, he also took out his wand from his pocket, just in case.

As Scrimgeour muttered a few words, a light bloomed from the tip of the wand and slowly illuminated the entire gate.

"Rumble!"

Immediately, the gate began to shake, as if some mechanism had been triggered. Amidst the tremors, it gradually opened, and a biting, bone-chilling wind carrying an unpleasant, sickening odor swept past the sides of his cheeks. At the same time, it also revealed to Charlie Black what Azkaban truly looked like.