The Slytherin Prince

³²| Visiting Azkaban {Part 1}

____________________________________

The Slytherin Prince

____________________________________

"Thoughts"

Letter

"~Parseltongue~"

":Deathtongue:"

~~~ Harry's POV ~~~

~~~ August 6, 1990 ~~~

I could see the look of awe on everyone's faces as I walked by, but just to make sure that they will not say a thing I let my magic flare out. Most of the people fell to their knees, due to my power. I just kept my blank mask on as I pulled my magic back into me. Now most of them looked at me with fear. I didn't want them to fear me, I just wanted the respect that I deserve, and if I need to make them fear me to get it then so be it.

I walked by the station where people had to submit their wands for inspection, but I just showed him my many Lordship rings without stopping for a second. I knew that Lords didn't need to submit their wands for inspection as they are considered members of the Wizengamot, and therefore, have higher authority than Ministry workers.

I had to ensure that Rita Skeeter doesn't get her hands on this news and make me out to be the next 'Dark Lord'. I had to ensure that the Daily Prophet was mine, very soon.

I walked to the lifts and entered, followed by the other three. Aunt Amelia pressed the buttons on where to go and a tinny, nasally sort of voice announced their arrival at the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Auror, Hit-Wizards and Guard offices. We went into Aunt Amelia's office, followed by a lot of scrutinising or awe-filled stares.

"Here we are dear, hold onto to this ribbon," she said as she held out a Black ribbon for all of us to touch. I looked up at Nana and asked seriously, "Nana, are you sure you want to come along, I know that father and the rest of the family have never had the best relationship and that he ran away when he was fifteen. You don't have to come with us" I said understanding her hesitation.

She thought for a moment, then straightened her spine and took a deep breath. "It is alright dear, I will come with you. He is my son, no matter what decisions he made as a child" she said with confidence.

I smiled at her and tightened my grip on the ribbon, as did everyone else. With that, the familiar sensation of a portkey washed over me. With a tug of my naval and crushing sensation, we were standing at an outcropping jutting out of a small island in the middle of the North Sea.

Instantly the chill of Dementors blanketed us as we silently stalked towards. The others withheld shivers that were brought on by the deathly aura of the Dementors and all of them strengthened their Occlumency shields, I could tell by the tightening of their jaws.

But the aura of the Dementors didn't seem to affect me. Yes, I could feel the cold, but it felt oddly comforting, not uncomfortable. When we neared the guard post a few feet away from the actual triangular-prism structure. The Guardhouse was surrounded by a wall of Bluish-White light and a spectral Grizzly Bear was walking around the guardhouse.

Undoubtedly they were Patronuses, seeing this Aunt Amelia took out her own wand with the flick of a wrist and uttered the words, "Expecto Patronum" while holding her wand steadily. The same bluish-white light burst out her wand with a feeling of comforting warmth that felt like a loving hug. A Leopard jumped out of her wand tip and stalked around us, creating a barrier of light.

As they walked towards the building the ominous feeling increased. I don't know why, but as we neared the first Dementors guarding the entrance to the building I stepped out of the circle of light, much to everyone else's advice.

Once I was clear of the shield the air was filled with whispers, and not just whispers - words.

":Hello:" I said slowly, to the creatures gliding across the entrance in a criss-cross pattern. The creatures stared at me for a moment, then stared at each other with agitated whispers and then back to me. ":Greetings young one, how are you speaking to us?:" it asked. ":Am I speaking the Deathtongue?:" I asked excited, as I remembered one of the Goblins say that as the Master of Death, with the ability to speak Deathtongue to speak to Thestrals and Dementors.

":I have the gift to speak the sacred language of the Dead, Sir:" I said, the last part questioningly. ":There is no Sir or Madam when it comes to us young one, as we have no gender. We are all of one mind, something that one of us knows, we all know. They are all interested in speaking with you young one:" it said, with a Dementor's equivalent of a smile.

When I turned around to look at the other three from my quartet, they were all gaping at me conversing with Dementors. "How did you speak to them Hadrian dear?" asked Nana, for once completely discomfited. "Didn't you hear the whispers?" I asked. They just shook their heads, unnerved.

"It's because of me being the Master of you know what," I said, trying to not let other ears listening to hear what we were speaking about. They just nodded understandingly. I nodded to the two creatures and moved past them, inside the prison.

We walked inside and Aunt Amelia led to a central execution area where prisoners are given the Dementor's kiss. It was surrounded by the three wings of the prison. In the 'courtyard' area there was a circular disc that lifted us into the air. I could see glowing runes on the circumference of the platform that was glowing with power.

The platform rose steadily into the air, the air growing colder and more dreadful the higher we rose. The higher the platform climbed the more number of Dementors that patrolled the corridors of each wing on different levels. When we finally arrived at the highest story the air was practically freezing for the others.

We slowly walked forward toward the high-security cells where the most notorious murders and rapists - basically Death Eaters, were held.

Inside the prisoners looked skeletal and worn out. Some already had the dead look in their eyes which showed that they gave up the will to live and survive. That's when I understood the reaction the others had when they heard that my father was shipped off to Azkaban without a trial. I was livid that my father hadn't got a trial, but now I could understand why the others had been horrified at the fact.

Azkaban truly was Hell on Earth.

We finally reached the ten most heavily guarded prisoners' cells. We were led to the fifth cell, on the wall beside the cell's locks was the Azkaban prisoner identification plate.

I had reached my father's cell.