Hogwarts: Don't call me Wandmaker

Chapter 200 Dementors and Cats

Hogwarts Castle hadn't been this quiet in a long time. There wasn't a soul in sight from the entrance hall to the Astronomy Tower, and all the classroom doors, including the library and the school hospital, were tightly shut.

A few minutes later, the entire castle seemed to have suddenly fallen into the dead of winter. The temperature plummeted, and a biting chill swept in from outside the gate. The railings and the floor were quickly covered with a layer of ice crystals, and even the stone statues on both sides turned grayish-white. Several icicles gleaming coldly hung in the air.

Then, the gate was opened. Hundreds of Dementors swarmed in, greedily sucking up the remaining "delicious" food in the castle.

To the Dementors, the entire Hogwarts Castle was like a giant dinner plate laden with countless delicacies.

Although those delicacies like "grilled meat," "seared steak," and "stew" have been moved elsewhere, the flavors left on the plate are already captivating.

In an instant, the temperature inside the castle dropped even lower.

Dumbledore watched from the side, his expression growing even more grim... The Dementors' behavior was nothing short of provocation. Did they really think he was too old to wield his wand?
A wand with distinct joints suddenly appeared in Dumbledore's hand.

"What are you doing!"

At that moment, Scrimgeour suddenly stepped forward and shouted, "Remember, once you enter the castle, you are only to search for your missing companions. If anyone dares to do anything extra, the Ministry of Magic will no longer be involved!"

Another person came out, making a whooshing sound, like wind blowing through a pipe.

The Dementors reluctantly shut their mouths and continued to drift deeper into the castle.

“I’m sorry, Albus, you know my predicament, and there’s nothing I can do.” Cornelius Fudge walked up to Dumbledore, his hands constantly stroking his top hat.

"The Dementors value their fellow beings highly; they insist on finding the missing companion or they will go on strike."

“You know, Azkaban cannot do without Dementors; only they can keep those vicious criminals in check.”

“Ah, yes, Azkaban cannot be without Dementors,” Dumbledore said, his tone so calm it betrayed no emotion.

“But Connelly, there’s something I find hard to understand…” He leaned forward slightly, a sharp glint flashing in his blue eyes behind his half-moon spectacles.

"When did these creatures, which feed on pleasure and are dark creations without souls, begin to cherish their own kind? They would openly defy the Ministry of Magic for the sake of a missing companion?"

“What’s even more interesting…” He narrowed his eyes, looking at Cornelius Fudge, “is that the Ministry of Magic actually chose to compromise and give in to a bunch of Dementors. It’s quite surprising.”

“This isn’t a compromise, Albus. The Dementors have a valid reason, and we can’t refuse.” Fudge’s fingers gripped the brim of his hat tightly. “The Dementors are also part of the Ministry of Magic. They’ve run into trouble while working for Hogwarts, so we should help, shouldn’t we?”

“I’m sorry, Connery, I never asked the Dementors to work for Hogwarts; it was all their wishful thinking.” Dumbledore paused slightly when he said “them” before straightening up and continuing, “Besides, their role doesn’t seem to be as significant as you say.”

Fudge's face turned slightly red.

Besides being dissatisfied with Dumbledore's veiled criticism, there was also the fact that everything he said was correct.

Sirius Black's appearance at Hogwarts Castle was like an invisible slap in the face to the Dementors and the Ministry of Magic.

But there was nothing they could do; after all, they had confidently declared that as long as the Dementors guarded the school, Sirius Black would have no chance of getting close to Harry Potter.

These words were like a dagger, piercing Fudge's sore spot precisely.

The Daily Prophet's article had already caused the Ministry of Magic to lose face, and now Dumbledore had brought it up again, causing Fudge's face to darken immediately.

But he didn't dare to actually vent his anger on Dumbledore, so he made up an excuse and left the castle, leaving Scrimgeour alone to keep an eye on all the Dementors. Actually, Scrimgeour didn't want to get involved either, but since he wasn't the Minister for Magic, he had no choice but to bite the bullet and follow the Dementors.

From the foyer to the second floor, and then to the third floor... wherever the Dementors pass by, they don't even want to linger in the portraits; they go to other frames as soon as they see them from afar.

If there's any benefit to it, it's probably that the insects and spiders in the corners were frozen stiff.

The book "Lockhart's Guide to Getting Rid of Household Pests" should really include Dementors; they're far more effective than dedicated insecticides... provided you can tolerate them in your room.

There are about two hundred Dementors that have come to Hogwarts this time; all of them that left Azkaban have come.

Although there seemed to be a lot of them, Hogwarts Castle was not small either. The intricate main building and towers alone would have been enough to keep the Dementors searching for a while. In addition, there were open courtyards and even more corner towers, so these black figures floating in mid-air soon became sparse.

They are like a wisp of ink spreading out, appearing and disappearing among the ancient stone walls and spires.

The professors and Scrimgeour couldn't possibly follow all the Dementors... so they chose to guard the entrance to the most important common room to prevent one or more Dementors from impulsively running inside.

Scrimgeour was left alone, running around the castle like a headless fly.

On the eighth floor of the castle, Professor McGonagall stood guard at the entrance to the Gryffindor common room. In the portrait behind her, a knight on a pony was brandishing a one-handed sword and shouting at the Dementors.

"Come on, you floating black rags, you filthy bastards, you cowardly wimps!"

"Coward, a fool who's not even as good as a troll!"

"If you dare come any closer, I swear I'll kick your asses hard with my boots!"

This is Sir Cadogan, also a portrait of Hogwarts.

Because the Fat Lady had just had her canvas scratched by Sirius Black, she was terrified and needed time to calm down. In the meantime, Sir Cadogan temporarily looked after the Gryffindor common room.

He brandished his one-handed sword, and the Dementors actually began to slowly retreat.

Of course, the main reason they retreated had little to do with the loud-mouthed Sir Cadogan, but rather with Professor McGonagall, who was further ahead, and the silver tabby cat perched on her shoulder.

That was her guardian spirit, and also the nemesis of Dementors. Where there is a guardian spirit, they absolutely dare not approach... even though a fragrance is constantly wafting from behind that portrait.

Professor McGonagall frowned as she watched the Dementors retreat but linger, unwilling to leave.

The tabby cat on her shoulder suddenly leaped up, flashing with silvery light, and pounced forward.

The Dementors were like snowdrifts doused with boiling water, their tattered black cloaks billowing wildly as they emitted hoarse howls.

They dared not hesitate any longer and began to flee in panic. Some broke through the windows and escaped outside, while others rushed into the armor in their haste, making the sleeping armor clang loudly.

One of the Dementors was clever enough to run away as soon as the Patronus jumped up, managing to hide in a secluded, deserted corridor in the distance.

But it didn't notice that there was another cat here, not the silver-white guardian, but a black one, with one eye emitting a faint orange-yellow glow in the dim corridor.

……

(End of this chapter)