Chapter 77
Chapter : The Battle on the Quidditch Pitch
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Harry's POV
Rain poured down in a relentless drizzle, a typical backdrop for a Quidditch match at Hogwarts. My robes were drenched, making the broom handle slippery in my grip. Visibility was low, but that only added to the thrill as I scanned the pitch for a glint of gold. Somewhere out there, Cedric Diggory was doing the same, his determination a worthy match.
"And Potter is out there today, looking like a drowned kneazle but as sharp-eyed as ever," came Lee Jordan’s enthusiastic voice through the magical speakers. "Never mind the weather, folks, because our Gryffindor Seeker’s got his eye on the prize!"
The crowd cheered despite the downpour. Lee’s colorful commentary always kept everyone in high spirits, and today was no different.
"Hey, you know it’s wet when even the Hufflepuffs are keeping their wands under their robes! But Gryffindors—we just grit our teeth and keep flying!"
Chuckles and scattered applause followed as I drifted lower, catching sight of a familiar glimmer of gold near the dark clouds above. There it was—the Snitch, hovering just within reach. My heart raced, and I leaned forward on my broomstick, speeding toward it.
But Cedric had seen it too. The Hufflepuff Seeker surged upward, chasing the Snitch just as furiously as I was. We were neck-and-neck, both determined to claim victory for our houses.
"And look at that! Potter and Diggory, racing head-to-head! Go, Harry!" Lee's voice was louder than ever. "Who needs sunshine when you've got a race like this?"
As I got closer, though, a creeping chill slid over me. It was as if the warmth was sucked from the air around me. The cheers of the crowd faded, replaced by a haunting silence that made my blood run cold.
I knew that feeling. Dementors.
Just then, I felt the darkness settle over my thoughts. Old, painful memories surfaced, the shrill echoes of my mother’s screams and my father’s desperate shouts for help. I tried to shake them off, but the dementors drew closer, their hoods shadowed, their icy presence a grip around my heart.
My hands were trembling. Cedric slowed, and I saw the same dread in his eyes as he felt the chill, too. But the dementors seemed to have set their sights on me.
They drifted closer, their bony hands outstretched, reaching for me with an insatiable hunger. My mind went blank with terror as the world blurred. In my pocket, I felt the weight of the device Alex had given me—the crystal imbued with light magic. With a desperate jolt, I pressed its gem, hoping Alex's invention would work against these creatures.
A searing light burst from my hand, exploding in a radiance that even the pouring rain couldn’t dim. The sheer force of it momentarily blinded me, but I felt a surge of warmth push the dementors back. It was more than just a Patronus; it was as if dozens of Patronuses had combined their strength into one unstoppable blast.
The dementors shrieked, their screeches filled with a mix of rage and fear as they were driven away by the light. And then something strange happened—the black, swirling figures seemed to disintegrate, turning into ashes. A flash of something intangible, like wisps of energy or faint spirits, floated away from the ashes, scattering across the pitch as if freed.
As the light faded, exhaustion overwhelmed me. My vision blurred, and my grip slipped from my broom. The last thing I saw was the ground rushing up toward me.
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Dumbledore's POV
I’d been watching the match from the stands when I felt the unmistakable chill of the dementors. They had no business being here, and I’d made that clear to Minister Fudge. Despite the Aurors’ promises, these creatures had encroached upon the pitch, endangering students.
I scanned the sky, searching for the telltale sign of trouble, and saw Harry plummeting toward the ground, his face pale as if drained. But before I could react, a blinding light erupted, filling the entire pitch and driving back the Dementors with a force I’d never seen.
The light was both familiar and otherworldly. It didn’t feel like a mere Patronus Charm. Whatever it was, it not only drove the Dementors away but seemed to reduce them to ash, a rare phenomenon that suggested an extraordinary level of magic.
But it was also dangerous.
I hurried toward Harry as he fell, my wand outstretched to slow his descent. He landed on the ground, dazed but safe, and I moved to his side, casting a quick spell to stabilize him.
When the blinding light receded, I caught sight of Alex, standing on the edge of the pitch, his eyes fixed on the Dementors with an intensity that could only mean one thing—he’d been responsible for that light. He looked as if he’d been bracing himself, wand in hand, as though he’d expected to face them himself.
As the students gathered, the Aurors descended onto the pitch, alarmed by the Dementors’ demise. I watched Alex carefully, noting the power he seemed to wield and the curiosity—and, perhaps, the unease—in his expression. I’d have to speak with him soon.
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Alex McKinnon-Black's POV
Watching the Dementors descend on Harry filled me with a sense of dread I couldn’t ignore. My wand was out, but it wasn’t going to be enough. Instead, I focused on the energy I’d stored in the device I’d given him—the light of multiple Patronuses.
As Harry activated it, a burst of bright light consumed the pitch, scattering the Dementors and tearing through their darkness. My heart raced, seeing them vanish, disintegrating into ashes. It was an effect I hadn’t anticipated. Did they… actually die? The notion was unsettling, even for creatures as malevolent as Dementors.
Despite the success, I felt a pang of anxiety. This wasn’t the kind of power I wanted to showcase just yet, not while so many eyes—Dumbledore’s, Snape’s—were on me. They’d surely start asking questions.
I turned my attention to Harry as he fell from his broom, relieved when Dumbledore managed to slow his descent. The students were shaken, some looking toward me with both awe and fear.
The problem with Dementors was clear: they were creatures of death and despair, not meant to be controlled in the way the Ministry thought they could be. They were ancient, and no amount of ministry-approved spells could contain them indefinitely.
My mind churned with possibilities. Rowena Ravenclaw’s research had been monumental in creating the crystal amplifier; perhaps the next step would be to harness that same energy more strategically. For now, I’d have to stay low-key and act as if nothing unusual had happened.
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Daphne Greengrass's POV
I’d been watching the match when it all happened. Harry was speeding toward the Snitch, with Cedric right on his tail. The excitement of the match faded when the coldness swept over us, as if someone had unleashed the harshest winter winds across the pitch.
The Dementors’ presence was terrifying. I’d never felt such a chill before—it was deeper than anything physical, reaching into my mind and dredging up memories and fears I’d tried to keep hidden. But just as I thought I couldn’t stand it, a brilliant light erupted from where Harry was, scattering the Dementors in all directions.
I couldn’t believe my eyes. It was as if the entire sky had come alive, a cascade of silver light flooding the field. For a moment, the shadows fled, and the warmth returned, driving away the terrible cold.
But when the light faded, my heart skipped as I saw Harry falling. I gripped the edge of my seat, holding my breath, afraid he’d hit the ground. Luckily, Dumbledore was there in an instant, slowing his fall with a flick of his wand.
The experience left me shaken. I’d grown up hearing about dark creatures, but this… this was different. The Dementors had come to Hogwarts, and Alex had done something no one could explain. As I glanced at him, standing quietly near the edge of the pitch, I saw a look in his eyes that I hadn’t noticed before—a sort of calm resilience.
When I looked back at the rest of the Slytherins, I noticed mixed reactions. Some looked impressed, a few even unsettled. But for me, it was the beginning of something new—a sense that maybe things were changing here at Hogwarts, in ways none of us could fully understand.
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Later That Evening
Back in the common room, conversations buzzed about the Dementors and the blinding light that had driven them away. Everyone had a theory, but none seemed to understand what had really happened.
And as the night wore on, I found myself wondering, too. What kind of magic was Alex working with? And what did it mean for the future of Hogwarts?
Whatever the answer, one thing was certain: this year would be unlike any other.