Wes had seen this scene in the movie before, but he hadn't expected there to be so many Dentors in real life—far more than what the film had shown.
At that mont, the Quidditch pitch looked, in the eyes of the Dentors, like a sweet and tempting cake. Ever since leaving Azkaban, they had gone a long ti without feeding.
The Ministry of Magic had strictly forbidden them from harming ordinary people, and being stationed outside Hogwarts every day was tornting them like an itch they couldn't scratch. They craved those bright, delicious emotions and life energy—a temptation impossible to resist.
Finally, they couldn't hold back any longer.
On the pitch, Harry's sharp eyes spotted the Golden Snitch before Cedric did.
That tiny golden speck flickered weakly in the rain, almost as if it were waving at Harry, before darting upward into the sky to avoid capture.
Harry gave chase without hesitation. The only thought in his mind was to win for Gryffindor.
He sped through the rain on his broomstick, flying farther and farther from the Quidditch pitch. Just as he was about to grab the Snitch, a Dentor suddenly swept into his vision.
The terrifying sight froze Harry in place.
Its face was like a skull, the skin stretched tight over bone in a sickly grey-white hue. Its eye sockets were two deep, empty hollows, flickering faintly with an eerie blue light. Its mouth was a wide, lipless gash, lined with jagged black teeth, hissing chillingly in the downpour.
Harry's mind went blank. He couldn't understand why a Dentor would be here. Suddenly, it opened its mouth wide, and a wave of icy air engulfed him, as if he had been thrown into a frozen cellar.
Horrific images began flooding his mind—pain, fear, mories he wished he could forget. His consciousness grew hazy, and the world before him beca blurry and distant.
Finally, his eyes rolled back, and he lost consciousness, falling from his broom.
"rlin's beard—Harry's falling!!" an eagle-eyed spectator shouted, their terrified voice sparking a wave of alarm in the stands.
So had already spotted the Dentors near the pitch.
"Dentors!! The Dentors are here!!" soone scread. Only then did everyone notice the swarm—hundreds of those dreadful shapes drifting through the rain, filling the air with suffocating dread. Darkness blanketed the entire sky.
The stands dissolved into chaos. People scread and bolted in all directions. So students cried out in terror, clinging to each other, trembling uncontrollably. The scene was on the brink of total collapse.
In the midst of the panic, Dumbledore reacted instantly. With a flick of his wand, he cast a Cushioning Charm to slow Harry's fall.
Harry's body descended gently and landed safely on the ground. At the exact mont Harry fell, Cedric seized the Golden Snitch.
He held that tiny golden prize tightly in his hand, but his expression was one of complete confusion. He didn't understand what was going on—only that the world around him had spiraled into chaos.
Sirius, seeing Harry fall, nearly blew his Animagus cover in panic. Wes quickly reassured him, "Harry will be fine. Didn't you see Dumbledore step in?"
Sirius barely managed to maintain his dog form but imdiately rushed onto the pitch to check on Harry himself.
"Expecto Patronum!!" Dumbledore's voice bood like thunder over the Quidditch pitch, his beard and hair bristling.
Wes had never seen him so angry—not even when news had co that Voldemort had returned.
Dumbledore's magic power erupted in full, without holding back. A phoenix-shaped Patronus radiated a silvery, sacred light, enveloping the entire Quidditch pitch in an unbreakable barrier, protecting every single person present.
The Dentors scread and fled from the field, sensing the overwhelming power of Dumbledore's Patronus Charm. Still, a few of them were struck by it and sustained severe injuries.
In the blink of an eye, the Dentors scattered like startled birds, vanishing into the rain.
Even so, Dumbledore's expression remained grim. "They broke the agreent. They crossed the line."
"Do you need to step in?" Wes Elwin asked, though in truth he wanted to capture a few Dentors to study. These wraith-like things normally stayed in Azkaban, under the Ministry's employ, making them hard to get his hands on. This was a rare chance.
"No need. We can use this incident to pressure the Ministry into clearing Sirius Black's na." Dumbledore clearly had longer-term plans for this situation.
Wes felt a pang of disappointnt—such a good opportunity missed.
But he also knew there would be more chances in the future.
Harry was taken to the hospital wing, where he lay quietly on the bed, his face pale. Madam Poppy Pomfrey was performing a full examination to make sure he hadn't sustained more serious injuries.
Hufflepuff had won the match, but good-hearted Cedric Diggory felt the victory was undeserved and kept requesting a rematch. Winning under such circumstances didn't seem honorable to him—he wanted to face Gryffindor again under fair conditions.
However, the Dentor incursion had drained everyone's enthusiasm. The outco of the match left a sour taste, and the audience's mood was overshadowed by the fear the Dentors had brought. The excitent and anticipation from before were gone.
The next day, the news of the Dentors' invasion of Hogwarts was splashed across the front page of every major newspaper. The bold headlines and shocking photos sent shockwaves through the entire wizarding world.
Under the weight of public outrage, the Ministry of Magic ca under trendous pressure.
Complaint letters and Howlers flooded in like a tidal wave, nearly burying Cornelius Fudge's office. Sitting in his chair, staring at the mountain of correspondence, Fudge's face was as dark as storm clouds.
The Dentor invasion not only threatened Hogwarts' safety but also dealt a severe blow to the Ministry's public image. Under intense protest and overwhelming public opinion, the Ministry had no choice but to issue a recall order for the Dentors.
The creatures were unwilling to leave—they had expected to feast at Hogwarts, but instead, they'd been driven back by Dumbledore's overwhelming power. For now, they could only return to Azkaban to recover, waiting for the next chance.
Fudge sat in his chair, holding Dumbledore's handwritten letter, the contents of which gave him a pounding headache.
"Overturning a case from over a decade ago isn't so easy. If Sirius Black is proven innocent, doesn't that make the Ministry look incompetent?"
The more Fudge thought about it, the more irritable he beca. He never imagined that the dignified Minister of Magic for Britain could be put in such a bind.
He didn't want to admit the Ministry's mistakes, yet he also feared Dumbledore might use this incident to push him out of office. For now, at least, he couldn't afford to openly clash with Dumbledore.
So, Fudge began drafting a reply, looking for a compromise. He hoped to resolve Sirius's wrongful conviction gradually, without damaging the Ministry's reputation.
anwhile, Wes Elwin put down his book. After long hours of effort, he had finally mastered the few volus Dumbledore had given him to study
°°°
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