The dramatic ending beca a favorite topic of conversation among the Slytherin students.
Even Cedric Diggory, the Gryffindor opponent who had caught the Golden Snitch, found his mont of glory dimd under the weight of everything that had happened.
Had things proceeded normally—had he faced and defeated the recently rising Harry Potter head-on—his reputation would have soared.
But...
After the match, hardly anyone cared about the true hero of the ga, nor was there any chance to celebrate the victory.
To most of the watching wizards, the real focus of the match wasn’t Cedric Diggory at all—it was the Dentors.
If they hadn’t stord onto the pitch, Harry Potter wouldn’t have fainted midair, and Cedric wouldn’t have caught the Snitch so easily, ending the match.
Simply put, it was a hollow win.
And more importantly...
Compared to Cedric Diggory catching the Golden Snitch, what truly thrilled everyone was witnessing the power of the wizard hailed as the greatest of their ti.
That surge of magic—sharp enough to prickle the skin.
The silver light that blanketed the entire Quidditch pitch.
With a single spell, he had driven away over a hundred Dentors.
The sight left every student who witnessed it completely stunned.
That monstrous display of magic and power burned itself into their mories, refusing to fade even long after the match was over...
...
The appearance of the Dentors, though it dealt a severe ntal blow to the wizards present, wasn’t entirely a bad thing in hindsight.
Dumbledore’s overwhelming display of power had deeply stirred the young wizards. In the following days, their enthusiasm for studying magic noticeably soared.
Especially the spell that summoned a silver phoenix radiating warm light—it beca the magic every student dread of mastering...
“You all seem rather distracted. Don’t tell Sybill has predicted soone’s death again?”
Once more, Professor McGonagall noticed that her Transfiguration lecture was being completely ignored. She cast a sharp, questioning look at her favorite student, Hermione Granger.
Before Hermione could respond, Seamus raised his hand high, blurting out the question everyone else wanted to ask.
“Sorry, Professor! But we just really want to know—what spell did Headmaster Dumbledore use that day?”
“I see... Well, although this is a Transfiguration class, I suppose I can make an exception...”
While the other students leaned forward eagerly, Draco—who already knew exactly what kind of spell it was—sat back and gazed out the window.
The Patronus Charm... the one powerful enough to drive away over a hundred Dentors and blanket the entire Quidditch Pitch in silver light?
Though he hadn’t seen it himself, only heard descriptions, a flicker of solemn respect appeared in Draco’s eyes.
Even in his old age, Dumbledore’s strength left most adult wizards far behind.
It made one wonder—what must he have been like in his youth?
A man who could suppress an entire era single-handedly.
Perhaps that was the true peak of the Greatest Wizard, Albus Dumbledore.
...
The incident of the Dentors running wild had a trendous impact on the Ministry of Magic. It exposed, unmistakably, how fragile the Ministry’s supposed control over the Dentors truly was.
In fact, ever since the Ministry had unleashed them, waves of protest had been pouring in.
But after this incident, the outrage finally exploded in full.
In response, Dumbledore personally confronted the Minister of Magic—and even The Daily Prophet, which usually sided with the Ministry, openly denounced their negligence in managing the Dentors and their reckless decisions...
“Look at this. Ever since the Dentors went rogue, the Minister’s been a ss. I still can’t figure out how Sirius managed to slip past them.”
“Who knows? All I can say is, I didn’t see a single suspicious figure on the Quidditch Pitch that day—and Dumbledore himself was there. Surely even a wizard wouldn’t have missed him, right?”
Yes, the Ministry had issued an official explanation for the Dentors’ intrusion at the match. According to their statent, the creatures had appeared because they were pursuing Sirius Black.
Whether that explanation made any sense, however, was another matter entirely.
Of course, Goyle and Crabbe, who were scoffing at the Daily Prophet, clearly didn’t believe the Ministry’s excuse.
Pansy glanced at the two of them huddled over the paper and added her own thoughts.
“But don’t you think it’s odd? Why would the Ministry go to such extre lengths just to hunt down Sirius Black? No matter how dangerous he is, I doubt it justifies this level of overreaction.”
“From what I’ve heard, all those Dentor patrols have turned nearly every wizard in Britain against the Ministry. I honestly don’t know what the Minister is thinking—it feels like he’s placing far too much trust in those monsters.”
For reasons unknown, Pansy and Astoria were now able to hold a normal conversation—or at least, one that didn’t imdiately erupt into sparks.
As the group continued discussing, Draco’s attention was drawn to Snape approaching from the corner of the room.
“Miss Greengrass,” Snape said curtly, “I trust you haven’t forgotten the arrangent I made with your father?”
“Yes, Professor. Father did ntion it to .”
“Good. Then co with now. I don’t have ti to waste.”
The sudden developnt made Draco glance curiously at Astoria.
But the way she quickly averted her gaze made it clear she didn’t want him to know what was going on.
Seeing Draco’s puzzled look, Snape sneered quietly to himself.
That smug expression of his earned only a helpless shrug from Draco. Not that he was all that interested in the matter anyway.
Still, he had to admit—Harry Potter had remarkable self-control. To have lasted this long without punching Snape in the face was sothing of a miracle.
Reviews
All reviews (0)