"That’s good," Dumbledore said.

Then he left, and only Kael and the Dementor remained in the office.

The fire in the fireplace was roaring, but Kael couldn’t help wrapping his thick cloak tighter around himself. To be honest, with a Dementor present, no amount of heat worked.

These creatures didn’t even have to do anything—just floating there, they could drain the warmth from everything around them, especially in such a confined space.

It was bearable in the summer, but in winter, it was quite miserable.

Luckily, at that moment Fawkes flew onto Kael’s shoulder, and the bone-chilling cold finally disappeared.

The Dementor abruptly backed off a step, seeming very afraid of the Phoenix’s presence.

Well, it seemed that Phoenixes had another use now—driving away Dementors. Kael grew even more envious of Dumbledore.

He looked up, trying hard to distinguish the Dementor in front of him, wondering if this was one he’d encountered before.

But all Dementors looked about the same, at least to Kael. He stared for quite a while but didn’t find anything particularly familiar.

Kael took a step closer out of habit, and the Dementor retreated further, pressing tightly against the wall.

"Don’t be afraid, I just want to ask you a few questions." Kael gently placed Fawkes in his hands, took out a Pod Fruit Professor Sprout had given him from his pocket to feed the bird, and asked, "Do you remember the day of the prison break?"

The Dementor didn’t answer, and Kael didn’t press; he just waited patiently.

Several minutes later, the Dementor finally made a dull, staticky sound, like an old radio having bad reception.

"Wh...ich... time..."

"The one when ten people escaped," Kael said.

"Remember..."

"Good." Kael nodded. "Can you tell me what happened that day?"

The Dementor looked down at Fawkes in Kael’s arms.

"Don’t worry, just go ahead and speak. It’s not going to do anything to you."

The Dementor tried backing away again, but the wall was already right behind it. After a few attempts, it gave up helplessly, floating right there.

"That day... a lot of people... came... it was them... who opened... the cell doors..."

"Did you not try to stop them?" Kael asked. "Isn’t guarding the prisoners a Dementor’s responsibility?"

"Couldn’t stop..."

"Why? Were you overpowered?"

"Couldn’t stop..." the Dementor repeated. "Not allowed... we... were held back..."

"Held back by whom?" Kael pressed. "The ones opening the doors, or other Dementors?"

The Dementor remained silent, but Kael had already guessed the answer, so he changed the question, 𝑓𝘳𝘦𝑒𝑤𝑒𝘣𝘯ℴ𝘷𝘦𝓁.𝑐𝑜𝑚

"Can you tell me? After that, how many Dementors left Azkaban in total?

Oh, don’t worry, nothing you say here will get to the Ministry of Magic. I swear on Dumbledore’s name."

This time, the Dementor was silent for over ten minutes before answering in a hoarse voice, "Three groups..."

"Three groups of Dementors?" Kael frowned. "How many is that?"

"That would be sixty," came a voice from the wall.

A witch with her hair in a bun appeared; she’d been dozing with her eyes closed when Kael entered, but now she was in the portrait closest to them.

The witch explained, "When Azkaban was first established, there were five sections, each housing prisoners of different severity. Each section was guarded by twenty Dementors; three days later, they’d swap with another twenty. For ease of accounting and management by the Ministry of Magic, that number was fixed."

"I see," Kael realized.

Sixty Dementors chose to follow Voldemort... Not knowing how many Dementors there were in all, Kael couldn’t tell if that was a lot or not.

The only thing certain was that some Dementors had truly betrayed them.

No wonder that during the Death Eater breakout, the Ministry of Magic only mentioned sending Beaters and Aurors for the hunt, never once mentioning Dementors. That was so unlike their usual style.

After all, two years ago, just to hunt down one Sirius, nearly a hundred Dementors were transferred to Hogwarts, and all search missions were led by Dementors, with Beaters only playing a supporting role.

Clearly, the Ministry of Magic had already known that some Dementors had defected—they just never told Dumbledore.

"Hey, kid!"

As Kael was pondering, another voice came from the portrait,

Sirius’s grandfather, Phineas Black, was leaning over the frame, eyeing him with great interest. "You can speak with Dementors, can’t you?"

Though he put it as a question, his tone was certain. "That’s quite a talent. Even if you land in Azkaban someday, you could escape alive with this skill... Maybe even take over the prison itself."

"If that’s the case, you might be more dangerous than that Voldemort guy."

"Phineas!" the previous witch glanced at him. "You ought to trust Albus—he’s the Headmaster now."

"Tch, trust Dumbledore," Phineas grumbled. "His students are much more dangerous than mine were when I was Headmaster. Hogwarts is practically becoming a cradle for the Dark Lord."

"Phineas, if you keep talking like that..." The witch rolled up her sleeves. "I wouldn’t mind teaching you a lesson."

"What are you planning?" Phineas immediately shut up. "I’m just thinking for Hogwarts’s good. I warn you, don’t do anything rash. I hit very hard, you know!"

"Headmaster Black," Kael spoke up to interrupt them, "Could I ask you to keep this matter secret?"