Chapter 232: Dementor
Chapter 232: Dementor
Professor Hup turned and left, saying he needed to think about how to make the Shield Charm more suitable.
"It sounds like he's talking about tailoring a piece of clothing", Harry thought to himself.
He saw the Gryffindor team members appear in the Great Hall and hurried over. He needed to eat something, even if it was just a bowl of porridge. With such terrible weather, it was hard to predict how long the match would last.
...
Felix walked alone on the lawn, the weather was gloomy, and dark clouds hung low. The wind was fierce, breaking tree branches, and he watched the Whomping Willow's branches sway violently.
But everything around him was eerily quiet. The rain didn't touch him, and the wind couldn't penetrate him—except for the transparent dome that floated a foot above him, which was somewhat conspicuous.
In the distance, a few students had arrived early. They watched curiously as Professor Hup circled the pitch in the heavy rain, and no one dared to disturb him.
These students chose to sit on the platform, their eyes fixed on Felix. Although they didn't understand what he was doing, it looked intriguing.
Especially the young witches, with their black hair and blue eyes, found Professor Hup's leisurely stroll in the rain captivating, even though his figure was obscured by the downpour, they could only imagine him.
When Felix completed his third lap around the Quidditch pitch, the human-form armoring charm on his body had grown to nearly half an inch. It was almost invisible unless you looked closely.
He stopped, glancing at the pitch entrance. A group of Hufflepuff players wearing canary yellow robes walked in, led by a tall, slender, and handsome figure—Cedric Diggory, the Hufflepuff team captain.
Felix climbed the wooden steps to the professor's stand and sat down quietly. The canopy above offered no protection from the rain, so he maintained the human-form armoring charm.
One by one, young wizards, some wrapped in cloaks and others holding umbrellas, entered the pitch.
Time passed, and the crowd grew. Professor Mcgonagall and Madam Hooch arrived, followed by Dumbledore. He smiled at Felix and sat down beside him.
"Headmaster Dumbledore."
"Felix."
Dumbledore whispered, "A fascinating technique."
Felix knew what he meant. "It's not much use beyond blocking the wind. Essentially, it's still a Shield Charm."
"Felix, you're too focused on the power of spells."
"Isn't the Shield Charm meant for defense?"
The two spoke in hushed tones. Soon, the two teams stood in the center of the pitch, the heavy rain forming a curtain of water. The spectators could only see the yellow and scarlet Quidditch robes, but their enthusiasm remained undiminished. Amid the rumbling thunder, a loud cheer erupted from the stands.
With Madam Hooch's whistle, the match began.
The players rose unsteadily into the air, the wind was too strong. Felix noticed Harry being blown to one side, but he quickly adjusted to the wind direction. A few of the female Quidditch players also struggled, but it was not due to lack of skill; they simply didn't weigh enough.
In his mind acceleration state, everything in Felix's eyes slowed down. The layers of rain didn't obstruct his view. He quickly analyzed the game's progression and tried to predict the scoring for the next few moments.
This was why Felix found Quidditch interesting. To him, each match was a high-quality group duel.
‘Harry will collide with one of his own teammates in two seconds if he doesn’t change direction— he turned.’
‘Cedric’s speed isn’t slow. In this weather, his weight gives him an advantage. Hmm? He can still direct his team while flying?’
‘This wind has no effect on Wood. As expected, he effortlessly defended the goal posts.’
‘The Bludger is about to hit that red-robed witch. I remember her name is Angelina Johnson? Her teammate rushes over from the lower left corner, and the Bludger is deflected. Was that Fred or George?’
‘A whistle for a timeout. It was Wood who called it, even though they are clearly leading…’
The match is paused. Gryffindor is ahead by fifty points, and the crowded stands erupt with excited cheers from the Gryffindor supporters.
A moment later, the game resumes. The two teams’ struggle intensifies, and the spectators can no longer distinguish the players’ faces, relying only on their uniforms and actions to identify their houses and positions.
Commentator Jordan Lee shouts into the microphone, “Gryffindor is on the attack. The Quaffle is in the hands of one of the Chasers, one of the three girls, but I can’t see which one…”
Cedric focuses on finding the Golden Snitch. His hastily assembled team is no match for Gryffindor, and the score gap will only widen.
The only chance of victory is for him to catch the Golden Snitch, but it’s not easy. His opponent is Gryffindor’s genius Seeker, Harry Potter, who has never lost in the sky.
Felix continues to analyze the situation on the field—
‘Hufflepuff looks in trouble. They can’t match Gryffindor’s offense; in the Seeker competition, Harry’s past record is better. Unless Harry makes a mistake, did he really slip?’
In mid-air, Harry’s hand suddenly slips, and his body drops a few feet. He somersaults in the air but quickly regains control of the unexpected event.
The game continues. Cedric seems to have noticed something and maneuvers his broom to make a 180-degree turn, preparing to dive. But Felix can’t pay attention to this anymore; a group of black Dementors have caught his eye.
They emerge from a corner of the Forbidden Forest, gliding along the ground, with some floating in the air, like black garbage bags caught in the wind.
The rain suddenly turns icy cold, and the air falls silent. The cheers and shouts seem to be cut off at their source. Felix knows this is the effect of the Dementors on young wizards.
At a height of one hundred feet, several Dementors, using the cover of dark clouds and mist, encircle Harry. They don’t pay much attention to Cedric. As creatures born from corruption and despair, they can easily identify those with painful pasts.
It’s clear that Harry is still somewhat conscious. One hand grips his broom, the other holds his wand, and a red spell cuts through the clouds, but with little effect.
His broom loses control and plummets, and Harry falls into unconsciousness.
“Dumbledore…” Felix whispers softly.
“I’ll save him,” Dumbledore says gravely, extending his finger toward Harry. Harry’s descent slows dramatically.
The tip of Felix’s wand explodes with a burst of silver light, which instantly pierces through the thick clouds like a silver lightning bolt, scattering the Dementors around Harry. They tumble and fall but land softly, merging back into the Dementor cluster below.
The silver light transforms into a slender, small Swift with scythe-like wings, hovering in mid-air without flapping. A deafening sound emanates from the Swift’s mouth, “Dementors, leave this place.”
(End of Chapter)
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