Hogwarts Study Panel

Chapter 561, page 559: Alarm Lifted

"What are they doing here?!"

Ron shouted in a panic.

The crowd was in an uproar, and the wizards had lost all interest in watching the match.

Sheen noticed that some wizards were standing up, seemingly wanting to leave the stands.

The Dementors were still drifting this way, at a moderate speed.

"We need to notify the professor!"

Hermione said in a panicked voice.

After this happened, Sheen knew that the professors were on their way.

However, before they arrive, the Dementors should already be able to give a kiss to some lucky wizard.

"Go to the entrance."

Sheen speaks slowly, perhaps because his voice is already hoarse due to his illness.

They quickly walked down from the stands and headed towards the entrance to the Quidditch stadium.

After noticing the young wizard's slightly pale face, the crowd consciously made way for him.

"Do you want to use that, Sheen?"

Hermione lowered her voice and said,
"But there are so many this time."

As Hermione spoke, they were walking along the dressing room toward the increasingly colder area.

When you get closer, you can see black smoke seeping from the hooded faces.

"The Patronus Charm is the bane of Dementors..."

Sheen was still slow.

Even though the wizards in front of them needed someone to look after them to get on the right track, the young wizards still felt a sense of reliability from the bottom of their hearts.

They surrounded him until he became the wizard in all of Hogwarts who was closest to a Dementor.

The Dementors are getting faster and faster.

Such creatures cannot resist the allure of a large crowd surrounding a Quidditch pitch.

That kind of excitement... that heightened emotion... they would feel like it's a feast.

"It's not lunchtime yet..."

Sheen muttered to himself, raising his wand.

"Calling upon the gods and summoning their protectors."

[You have practiced the Guardian Spell to mastery; proficiency +300]

The young wizards could see that something broke free from the tip of his staff—not a shapeless cloud, but a dazzling silver animal.

It was small in size and flew past them silently, galloping across the fields.

They saw it lower its head and charge towards the large group of Dementors... Now it raced around the few dark figures at the front, and the Dementors retreated and scattered... They disappeared.

The guardian spirit turned around and slowly ran towards the young wizards. It was a silver-white cat, as bright as the moon in the sky.

"Oh, I didn't see clearly last time, but I didn't blink this time,"

Justin whispered to Hermione,

"It really is a cat."

"uh-huh,"

Hermione remained noncommittal; her smile was soon replaced by a look of melancholy.
"Professor Flitwick said this is exceptionally complex magic. How's your training going?"

"Oh……"

Justin smiled sheepishly.

He turned to look at the Quidditch pitch.

As everyone knows, Quidditch matches are not canceled for “minor” reasons.

In the Gryffindor camp, Harry was riding his broomstick through the storm, looking around for the Snitch.

He dodged a stray ball, then ducked under Diggory as he flew towards him... A thunderclap followed by a zigzag of lightning.

The weather was getting worse, and Harry knew he had to catch the Snitch quickly—he turned around and headed back to the center of the pitch.

Strangely, an eerie silence fell over the entire stadium. The wind, though still fierce, seemed to have forgotten to howl, as if someone had turned off the volume, as if Harry had suddenly become deaf—what was going on?

He realized something was moving on the field below—before he could even think, he looked away from the thief and down below…

At least a hundred Dementors stood below, all their hidden faces looking up at him.

It felt as if icy water surged up his chest, cutting into his internal organs.

Then he heard... someone screaming, screaming in his mind...

"Don't touch Harry, don't touch Harry, please don't touch Harry!"

"Get out of the way, you stupid woman... Get out of my way..."

"Don't touch Harry, please, just kill me, just kill me—"

A numbing, swirling white mist filled Harry's mind...

What is he doing? Why is he flying?
He had to help her...she was going to die...she was going to be killed...

"Don't touch Harry! Please... have mercy... have mercy..."

A shrill voice was laughing wildly, a woman was screaming, and Harry knew nothing more.

"Are you alright, Harry?"

Harry opened his eyes; he was lying on the lawn.

A group of people surrounded him, and Sheen was the closest to him, and it was Sheen who was speaking.

"What happened?"

Harry asked, bewildered.

"You fell down."

Sheen explained it simply.

"From a height of approximately fifty feet."

Ron, still shaken, added,
"Luckily, Sheen pointed at you and cast some kind of spell on you that I don't know what it's called, otherwise you would have been killed by the fall."

"Oh, thank you, Sheen."

Harry wanted to ask about the match, but then he heard the announcement that the Golden Snitch had been caught and the match had ended.

With Gryffindor's Seeker right here, guessing who won the game shouldn't be too difficult.

"Dementor..."

Harry saw the Gryffindor Quidditch team running towards them, and people in the stands were clapping.

He hesitated for a moment, then the question he wanted to ask couldn't help but blurt out:

"Why? Why do they have that effect on me? Could it be that I—?"

"Are you thinking you're too weak?"

Sheen's green eyes seemed to see right through him.

Harry nodded silently.

"The reason why Dementors affect you more than others is because you have experienced fears in your past that others have not."

Sheen explained.

The gale gradually subsided, and Harry saw those emotionless eyes through the blurry raindrops.

His face was still pale, but somehow, Harry felt at ease.

"Dementors are among the most vile things in the world. They lurk in the darkest and filthiest places, they live in decay and despair, and they suck peace, hope and joy from the air around them."

If possible, the Dementor will keep sucking you until you become like it... soulless, filled with evil. You'll only have the worst experience of your life left.

And your worst experience, Harry, is enough to make anyone fall off a flying broomstick. You have nothing to be ashamed of.”

Harry swallowed hard, as if he wanted to say something.

"No need to tell us, Harry."

Those green eyes seemed to speak, stopping Harry from doing what he was doing.

Then, naturally, they saw an old wizard with white hair striding toward them.

　Not feeling well, will update at 3 PM tomorrow.
　　
　
(End of this chapter)