Harry potter: Revenge from azkaban

Two days later, just as dawn broke over Knockturn Alley, a vortex of magic shimmered briefly inside Borgin and Burkes. A pale figure emerged from the swirl of energy—Cassian Drayke, gaunt and weary, but with a glint of satisfaction in his eyes.

"Borgin," he called out, voice hoarse but resolute. "It's done. The anti-curse works—but it draws mana. If the energy stored in the pendant runs low, it'll start pulling magic directly from the wearer."

Borgin stirred awake from where he'd been dozing in a creaky armchair behind the counter. He blinked, then smiled as he saw Cassian approaching.

"You've finished it? Excellent," he muttered, rising slowly and accepting the pendant from Cassian's outstretched hand. "You've truly outdone yourself this time, boy. Ah—your mice and the breeding box are over there on the counter, just as you asked."

"Want a demonstration?" Cassian asked, already reaching into the box and plucking out a white mouse.

"Wouldn't mind seeing it in action," Borgin said, stepping closer.

Cassian secured the pendant around the mouse's body with a quick twist of his wand, then immobilized the creature with a binding charm. "Petrificus Totalus."

The mouse froze in place, eyes wide, limbs stiff.

Then, without hesitation, Cassian raised his wand again. "Avada Kedavra."

A flash of malevolent green light shot from his wand—and was absorbed harmlessly into the pendant. The mouse twitched, and the spell dissipated with a faint crackle of magical resistance.

"Finite Incantatem," Cassian muttered, lifting the binding spell. The mouse scampered briefly before he caught it again and tucked it into the miniature breeding box.

"There," he said, clicking the lid shut. "It works."

Borgin turned the pendant over in his hands, marveling at the fine runework carved into its surface. "This could change everything," he whispered. "A true defense against the Killing Curse… Merlin help us."

Cassian shrugged. "Don't get ahead of yourself. It still depends on the energy reserves in the charm. If it's drained and not recharged, you're as dead as anyone else."

"Still," Borgin said, grinning, "this is a masterpiece. Thank you, Cassian. You're a rare one."

Cassian didn't respond. He was already tucking the breeding box into the magically expanded pocket hidden in his robes.

"You're in a hurry," Borgin noted. "Why not stay for breakfast?"

"Can't," Cassian said, checking the time. "I've got to catch the Hogwarts Express. I can't Apparate there—station's under too many protections."

Borgin looked at him curiously. "You've never been to Hogwarts, have you?"

Cassian shook his head. "No. But I have to go. It's where Aurors and Ministry-trained wizards come from. I need to study the magic they use—understand it."

"To defeat them?" Borgin asked, eyebrow raised.

Cassian offered a tight smile. "To be prepared."

He turned to leave, but paused. "Before I go—can you spare some Muggle money? The Ministry confiscated everything I had. I need it for transport."

Borgin chuckled and handed over a handful of Muggle banknotes. "You're always prepared, Cassian. Here—this should get you there and back twice."

Cassian nodded his thanks and left the shop. The sun had only just begun to rise over London, casting long shadows across the cobbled streets of Knockturn Alley. He hailed a taxi at the edge of Diagon Alley, slipping into the front seat like any ordinary boy.

"King's Cross Station," he said to the driver.

The man gave him a sideways glance. "That's a fair ride, lad. You've got the money?"

Cassian pulled out a crisp £20 note. "Plenty."

The driver took it, started the engine, and offered a skeptical smile. "You didn't run away from home, did you?"

Cassian didn't look up. "Drive."

The driver chuckled and fell silent.

They arrived at King's Cross Station with time to spare. Cassian purchased a train ticket—not because he needed it, but because blending in mattered. There were already dozens of students moving through the station, pushing trolleys piled high with trunks, owls, and spellbooks.

He drew some stares. He carried no luggage, no cage, no trolley. His belongings were neatly stashed inside the magically enhanced space in his robes, protected by a highly advanced version of the Undetectable Extension Charm—one he had modified himself.

The original spell was tightly regulated by the Ministry. It was forbidden for private use, deemed too dangerous in the wrong hands. But Cassian had long stopped caring about Ministry law. He had been to Azkaban and back. He knew how to slip between the cracks.

His improved spell was different. Unlike the standard version, which anyone could reach into, his enchantment required a specific unlocking charm. Without it, the space behaved like normal fabric—undetectable, untraceable.

As he moved through the station, a boy with chestnut hair eyed him with suspicion. Cassian met his gaze briefly, noting the look of superiority in the boy's expression. Clearly, he assumed Cassian was a Muggle.

"You look confused," the boy said smugly. "Trying to figure out how they got through the wall, Muggle? Don't even bother—it's not for you."

Cassian narrowed his eyes. "Really? And you're announcing the existence of the magical world to strangers in a public space? Perhaps I should report you to the Ministry of Magic. Impersonating a Muggle and violating the International Statute of Secrecy? That could get you banned from Hogwarts."

The boy paled. "W-what?"

"Exactly," Cassian said coldly. "Idiot."

He turned away, ignoring the boy's horrified expression, and approached the enchanted barrier between platforms nine and ten.

Platform Nine and Three-Quarters was a marvel of magical engineering. Cassian observed it keenly. Three enchantments overlapped on the space:

The first was a powerful Notice-Me-Not charm, cloaking the portal from Muggle eyes.

The second was a visual camouflage enchantment, making the entryway appear as a solid brick column.

And the third—a subtle yet sophisticated spell—measured the speed of approach. Only those moving at the proper pace and intent could pass through the portal unimpeded. Anyone else would simply crash into solid stone.

Cassian adjusted his pace, noted the flow of magical energy humming through the pillar, then strode forward with purpose.

He passed through the barrier effortlessly.

On the other side, the gleaming red engine of the Hogwarts Express steamed gently in the morning light. Students bustled about, hugging parents, wrestling with trunks, laughing and shouting.

Cassian stood still, watching.

This place was a crucible for the next generation of witches and wizards. Most of them would never grasp the depths of the power that flowed through their veins. But Cassian—Cassian would not be like them.

He heard footsteps behind him and turned.

"Cassian! You're early."

It was Cassandra. She walked toward him, dragging a beautifully crafted suitcase behind her, her dark hair glinting under the morning sun.

Cassian inclined his head slightly. "Of course. I don't like being late."

She smiled, then glanced at the students around them. "Quite the crowd, isn't it?"

"I wonder how many of them will survive what's coming," Cassian said, voice quiet.

Cassandra blinked. "That's a grim thought for the first day of school."

He shrugged. "It's realistic."

They stood in silence for a moment, the whistle of the train echoing through the platform.

"Let's go," Cassian said at last. "It's time to see what Hogwarts really has to offer."

Together, they boarded the train.

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