Chapter 523: Dementor (4k)

Lupin looked eager to hear more, which won him Ron’s favor.

He glanced unconsciously at the seat by the window, where Wizard Sean was biting into a pumpkin pie while reading.

Suddenly, all the lights along the aisle and overhead racks flared on.

The train rattled loudly, rain pattered against the windows, and wind howled outside.

“Wait—we’re almost there?”

Ron leaned forward, peering past Professor Lupin at the now pitch-black window.

No sooner had he spoken than the train began to slow.

“Perfect!”

Ron said,

“You can get off with Wizard Sean, though it’s strange he’d owe you wages… You work at Fred’s?”

“I don’t think it’s that magical goods shop—it’s a bookstore.”

Lupin said kindly.

“Bookstore… You mean Green’s Bookhouse? Merlin… So you have the latest edition of Green’s Notes?!”

Ron was stunned.

“Of course I do.”

Lupin smiled, carefully pulling out a complete set of the Green Series from his battered but fascinating suitcase.

The yellowed pages suggested he’d read these books more than once.

“The Chronicles of Wizarding Magic!”

Hermione gasped in delight,

“Wizard Sean said he hadn’t finished it—you have the manuscript…?”

“Oh, certainly—I’ve always corresponded with Mr. Green on matters of magical history…”

Lupin nodded with a smile.

He looked at the surrounding young wizards, certain they must have a good connection to his boss.

His smile grew warmer.

It seemed he’d soon find his employer.

Lupin was surrounded by young wizards; Ron stood farthest back and couldn’t see the manuscript.

He sighed in disappointment, stood up, and carefully walked to the window to see outside.

“I’m starving—I really want to attend the feast…”

“We’re not there yet.”

Hermione said, turning with the manuscript in hand.

“Then why did we stop?”

The train slowed further.

The sound of the wheels faded; the wind and rain struck the windows louder than before.

Ron was closest to the door; he rose and peered down the aisle.

Dozens of heads popped out curiously from the compartments.

The train jolted to a halt; distant clattering noises suggested luggage had fallen from the racks.

Then, without warning, all the lights went out, plunging them into total darkness.

“What’s going on?”

Ron’s voice rang out before them.

“Ow!”

Hermione gasped,

“Ron, that’s my foot!”

“Sorry—I can’t see a thing—”

Ron said.

“Do you think the train broke down?”

Harry fumbled his way back to his seat.

“I don’t know…”

A shrill squeaking echoed in the dark; Harry saw a blurry, dark shape of Ron.

He was wiping a clean patch on the window, peering outside.

“Something’s moving outside,”

Ron said,

“It looks like someone’s getting on…”

“Mr. Green—you were here all along—”

A low, pleasant voice broke the tension; it was Lupin, holding a glowing wand to illuminate the manuscript for the black-haired young wizard.

“Pleased to see you, Mr. Lupin.”

Wizard Sean emerged from his sea of magical knowledge, smiling faintly.

“I don’t think Lupin’s here to collect wages.”

Hermione mused.

“Anyone can see that, Hermione.”

Ron rolled his eyes,

“No one in the magical world doesn’t want to be connected to Wizard Sean… Did I mention? The last signed notebook of his sold for thirty Jin Jin Jialong!”

Ron suddenly winked and grinned again; though his face was unclear in the dark, everyone caught the exaggeration in his tone:

“Even if they don’t want ties to Mr. Green, who among the newspapers or so-called pure-blood families wouldn’t want to meet the illustrious Mr. Hermes, returned in glory?”

The young wizards fell silent for a moment.

They always forgot what stature the name Green carried throughout the magical world…

“You’re right, Ron. But the train seems broken…”

Suddenly, Harry spoke.

“Should we go outside and check?”

Harry glanced at Wizard Sean, who was chatting amiably with Lupin, and suggested.

“Sounds good.”

Ron flung the door open eagerly.

The young wizards stepped into the aisle; only Lupin and Wizard Sean remained in the compartment.

In the narrow aisle, someone tripped over Harry’s legs and fell with a cry.

“Sorry! Who’s that? Do you know what’s happening? Ow! Sorry—”

“Neville, don’t wander—stick close to me.”

Harry groped in the dark, grabbed Neville’s robe, and pulled him up.

“Harry? Is that you?”

“It’s me, Neville. Come on—”

“Let’s ask the driver what’s going on.”

Hermione’s voice said.

Harry felt Hermione brush past him, heard the sliding door open again, then a bang and two sharp cries of pain.

“Who’s there?”

“Who’s there?”

“Ginny?”

“Hermione?”

“What are you doing, Ginny?”

“I’m looking for Ron—”

“Alright, get back inside and sit down—”

“Don’t sit there!”

Harry said quickly,

“I’m right here! Ow!”

Neville let out a pained yell.

They stumbled back into the compartment.

Now the compartment was packed—seven young wizards and one professor.

“Stand behind me.”

A stern voice cut in.

Everyone saw a flash of light across the chest of the young wizard by the window—and his figure vanished from the dark.

They turned in shock; the young wizard had already reached the front.

With a soft pop, a trembling light flickered on, illuminating the compartment.

Professor Lupin seemed to clutch a handful of flame, its glow revealing his weary gray face, his eyes sharply alert.

“Everyone stay put.”

He said in that raspy voice, then rose slowly, holding the flame aloft.

But before Lupin reached the door, the sliding door opened slowly.

In the flickering light of the flame in Lupin’s hand, a tall, broad figure in a cloak stood at the threshold, nearly brushing the ceiling.

His face was completely hidden beneath the hood.

At the front of the crowd, beside Wizard Sean, Harry glanced down—and what he saw made his stomach clench.

A hand emerged from beneath the cloak—grayish-white, gleaming with a sinister sheen, as if coated in slime and spots, like something rotting underwater after death…

The hand vanished instantly. The cloaked figure seemed to sense Harry’s gaze; the hand suddenly retracted into the folds of the black cloak.

Then the cloaked figure—whatever it was—inhaled slowly, a gurgling sound coming from its throat, as if it were drawing in more than just the surrounding air.

A bone-chilling cold swept over them.

Harry felt he could not breathe.

The cold seeped into his skin, invaded his chest, crept into his heart…

Harry’s eyes rolled back—he saw nothing.

He was submerged in the cold, his ears roaring like water.

Something was pulling him down, the roaring growing louder…

Then he heard distant screams—terrible, panicked, pleading screams.

He wanted to help that person, wanted to move his arm—but he couldn’t move at all…

A thick swirl of white mist spun around him, spun within him—

“Leave!”

Harry heard a sharp command.

A cat—a silvery-white, glowing cat—sprinted past him.

It leapt proudly beside the black-robed figure, which fled like a mouse seeing a cat.

“Harry! Harry! Are you all right?”

Someone was slapping Harry’s face.

“Wh—what?”

Harry opened his eyes. Bright lights shone above; the floor trembled—the Hogwarts Express had started moving again, and the lights had returned.

He seemed to have slid off his seat onto the floor.

Ron and Jia Jia Siting knelt beside him; behind them stood Neville, Ginny, Hermione, and Professor Lupin, all watching him.

Harry felt terribly unwell; when he raised his hand to push his glasses back onto his nose, he felt his face slick with cold sweat.

A hand reached out.

“Harry, you need to rest.”

The voice belonged to the same person who had shouted earlier.

“Wizard Sean…”

Harry’s mind was a blur, but he would never forget that voice.

Wizard Sean helped him back into his seat.

“Are you all right?”

Ron stepped closer, nervously asking.

“I’m fine.”

Harry said, quickly glancing toward the door.

The cloaked figure was gone.

“What happened? Where did that—thing go? Who was screaming?”

Harry asked, bewildered.

“No one screamed,”

Ron said, even more tense now.

Harry looked around the bright compartment. Ginny and Neville stared at him, both pale.

“But I heard screaming—”

A sharp crack startled them all.

Professor Lupin broke a large piece of chocolate into several chunks.

“Here,”

he handed the largest piece to Harry and said,

“Eat it. It’ll help.”

Harry took the chocolate but did not eat it.

“What was that thing?”

He asked Wizard Sean.

“Dementors,”

Wizard Sean replied, watching Lupin distribute chocolate to everyone,

“Dementors from Azkaban.”

Everyone stared at Wizard Sean in shock.

Professor Lupin crumpled the empty chocolate wrapper and shoved it into his pocket.

“Eat,”

he said again,

“It’ll help. Excuse me—I need to speak with the driver…”

He passed by Harry and paused beside Wizard Sean.

“Brilliant Patronus Charm, Mr. Green. A corporeal Patronus—unbelievable.”

Lupin said, surprised.

“I’ll come with you to speak with the driver. Not every wizard on this train can cast a Patronus.”

Wizard Sean glanced down the dark corridor and said.

“Hmm… if it’s you… very well, Mr. Green… let’s go.”

Lupin hesitated.

“I’m coming too,”

Jia Jia Siting suddenly spoke up.

“Mr. Fenliri, that’s hardly a good idea,”

Lupin said, uneasy.

He didn’t want to refuse Jia Jia Siting.

“I’m coming too,”

Hermione stood up and said.

“This…”

Lupin found it hard to decide.

“Then let’s all go,”

Wizard Sean said.

“As you wish,”

Lupin replied obediently.

He walked ahead, and the group vanished into the corridor.

Wizard Sean advanced, wand raised, pondering several puzzling points.

The Dementor had targeted only Harry—or rather, it hadn’t specifically targeted Harry; its very presence was an attack on all wizards, yet Harry had reacted with extreme intensity.

Wizard Sean thought it must be connected to Harry’s soul.

Even after his defeat, Voldemort’s influence on Harry over the years must still linger.

“Are you really all right, Harry?”

Ron stayed behind to look after Harry, now watching him with concern.

“I don’t understand… what just happened?”

Harry wiped more cold sweat from his face and said.

“Well—the thing—the Dementor—it just stood there, looking around—I mean, it seemed to be looking around, but I couldn’t see its face—and then you—you—

I thought you were having a fit.”

Ron said, still shaken,

“You went stiff, fell off your seat, started twitching—”

“Then Mr. Green raised his wand.”

Ginny said reverently,

“He said: ‘Leave.’ And a silver thing shot out of his wand at the Dementor, and the Dementor ran away…”

“That was terrifying.”

Neville said, his voice higher than usual,

“Did you feel how cold it was when it came in?”

“I feel weird,”

Ron said, shifting uneasily in his seat,

“like I’ll never be happy again…”

“But none of you fell off your seats?”

Harry said awkwardly.

“No.”

Ron said, looking at Harry with concern again,

“but Ginny was shaking like a madwoman…”

Harry truly didn’t understand.

He felt weak, trembling all over, as if he’d just recovered from a severe cold.

He also felt a faint embarrassment—why was he the only one acting so foolishly while everyone else was fine?

Wizard Sean came back.

Beside him was Lupin, still on guard.

Professor Lupin paused at the door, glanced at them all, and smiled slightly:

“I didn’t poison that chocolate…”

“Harry, eat some.”

Wizard Sean said gently.

Harry finally took a bite and was greatly surprised to feel a sudden warmth surging toward his toes and fingertips.

“We’ll be at Hogwarts in ten minutes.”

Professor Lupin said.

“Dementors drain a wizard’s happiness, but sweets lift the spirits.”

Wizard Sean explained again, then hesitantly pulled a steaming pumpkin pie from his wizard’s book.

“Would you like…”

“I’ll take some.”

Jia Jia Siting said with a smile.

“Oh! Wizard Sean, I mean, having an untraceable expansion space is amazing!”

Ron moved closer too, helping Harry sit up.

“Your… Patronus Charm—is?”

Only Hermione still remembered the spell Wizard Sean had just cast.