A Professor of Magic at Hogwarts

Chapter 224: The Origin of Dementors

Chapter 224: The Origin of Dementors

Dumbledore pondered for a moment and then spoke, "This involves a fearsome dark wizard from the 15th century, Ectis. He is known as the earliest inhabitant of Azkaban, back when Azkaban was just a hidden, magic-sealed island in the North Sea."

"While history has never lacked wizards referred to as 'evil,' Ectis's malevolence was ingrained to the core. He had no mercy for any living being, and it was he who cruelly created the species known as Dementors."

Felix Harp exclaimed in surprise, "Dementors were created by wizards? Like the Quintapeds?" He had no inkling of this; it was truly a hidden secret within the wizarding world.

"Quintapeds were accidental creations, but Dementors were not," Dumbledore shook his head. "It wasn't until Ectis's death and the breakdown of the hidden magic that people discovered his actions. However, Dementors had already become an independent species. Initially, there were only a few, but they can propagate and divide like fungi, and conventional spells are nearly ineffective against them."

Felix was puzzled, "If that's the case, they should have become uncontrollably numerous. But in reality, their numbers are scarce, and they're used by the Ministry of Magic?"

Dumbledore explained, "The Ministry of Magic has more of a cooperative relationship with Dementors. Moreover, these creatures seem to possess a mystical collective consciousness. Their numbers remain within a certain range, but once they decrease to a certain level, they naturally divide. Perhaps this is also a form of reproduction?"

Felix began to grasp the nature of Dementor existence and couldn't help but inquire further, "Apart from the Patronus Charm, are there any spells that work? I mean, spells that can completely vanquish Dementors?"

"Very difficult, Felix, very difficult," Dumbledore said with a sigh.

Felix wanted to continue his questions, but Dumbledore seemed unwilling to elaborate further, and their conversation soon came to an end.

...

In the early morning, young wizards woke up in their beds, unaware of the events from a few hours prior.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione sat at the Gryffindor table, having breakfast. Owls occasionally flew in, catching Hermione's hopeful gaze as she looked towards the Great Hall's entrance.

"Are you waiting for a letter?" Ron asked.

"Oh, I ordered a book from Flourish and Blotts through the Owlery," Hermione said absentmindedly. "It seems it won't arrive today."

Ron noticed Harry's dejected mood and suggested, "After your training this weekend, we can visit Hagrid. Honestly, the three-headed dog looks adorable when it's small. It's the first time I've agreed with Hagrid's taste..."

Harry's interest was piqued, and he perked up, "Might have to wait a bit, Wood's likely training until dark."

Ron shrugged, "Let's hope Hagrid won't kick us out again." At the beginning of the school year, fearing Hagrid's dismissal, they had visited him at night while wearing invisibility cloaks. Hagrid had escorted them back to the castle himself, warning them they could only visit during the day.

Hermione was about to voice her thoughts when Professor McGonagall entered the hall. She said loudly, "Potter, come here!"

Harry put down his utensils, wondering what he had done wrong this time. Ron and Hermione exchanged glances and followed.

"Weasley and Granger... you too," Professor McGonagall added. She didn't dismiss the uninvited pair and looked at Harry with a stern expression. "Your Sneakoscope, where is it? The one meant for Black!"

Harry carefully retrieved the pocket-sized Sneakoscope from his pocket. It lay quiet in his hand, and Professor McGonagall visibly sighed in relief.

"What's happened, Professor?" Hermione whispered.

"It's time I stopped keeping this from you, Potter," Professor McGonagall began, her expression serious. "I know you might be shocked, but I have to tell you—Black—"

"I already know," Harry said angrily, "I know he's after me. That's why he escaped from Azkaban. I know he was friends with my dad, even his best man. He's... He's also my godfather." Harry couldn't continue; the word "godfather" felt like an insult, a mockery of not only himself but also his deceased parents.

Professor McGonagall seemed genuinely surprised, staring at him wide-eyed. "I understand now, well, I thought—"

Feel free to let me know if you'd like any specific phrases or passages to be rephrased or adjusted to better fit the Harry Potter universe's tone and style!

"That's why you should understand why I insisted on you carrying this Sneakoscope with you. It can protect you," she pursed her lips. "Earlier today, before dawn, the Sneakoscope in the castle sounded an alarm."

Harry stammered, "W-was it the one I had? But it's been in my pocket, and there was nothing unusual..."

Ron's face showed the fear that mirrored his own. He clutched his pocket tightly and whispered, "Don't move, Scabbers!"

Professor McGonagall clenched and unclenched her fist repeatedly, seemingly unsure whether to reveal something. Previously, only Felix, Dumbledore, and she knew that it wasn't just one but three Sneakoscopes. However, it was no longer a secret now.

Hermione chimed in, "Professor McGonagall, I've seen from Professor Harp that there are three identical Sneakoscopes. I assume the other two are placed elsewhere? I guess, at the front and back doors of the castle..."

Professor McGonagall sighed, "Well, Miss Granger, just as you said... one at the front and one at the back."

Harry didn't know if he should feel relieved or disappointed, "So you mean, he was lurking at the castle gates?"

"Likely so," Professor McGonagall said, "Professors were up early and conducted an urgent search of the castle, but we found nothing. The portraits in the castle didn't spot any strangers either, which suggests—"

"He realized he was exposed and left in advance," Harry interjected.

"Correct, Potter," Professor McGonagall said, "Since you're already aware, I believe you've mentally prepared. Some activities aren't suitable—"

"Hogsmeade—" Harry blurted out, his heart suddenly in his throat.

Hogsmeade was an all-wizard village, and third-year and above students could visit it on certain days with the permission of their parents or guardians.

He had talked about this with Ron last night. Harry had told Ron that he hadn't gotten his uncle's signature, and Ron had suggested he ask Professor McGonagall.

Now, it seemed that the plans were ruined.

Professor McGonagall glanced at him, her expression grave. "You won't be going to Hogsmeade, of course. I meant Quidditch. Frankly, letting you practice is too dangerous. Even with the other players, it's not enough to handle Black."

"Professor McGonagall," Harry couldn't help but raise his voice, "What does this have to do with my training?"

"It's definitely related. Black is likely hiding in Hogsmeade or deep in the Forbidden Forest," Professor McGonagall delivered shocking news. "The Quidditch pitch is far from the castle. If something were to happen, we wouldn't have time to mount a rescue."

"But, but..." Harry was bewildered. He had already begun his training for this year, three times a week. Wood had enthusiastically told him that they aimed to win a second Quidditch Cup this year, a graduation gift.

Other players were equally confident due to their victory last year.

Now, before the first match even began, was the trophy already slipping through their fingers?

Suddenly, something crossed Harry's mind. He spoke urgently, "Professor McGonagall, if a professor was watching us, like Professor Vector—"

Professor McGonagall remained tight-lipped.

"Please..." Harry implored.

"Very well," Professor McGonagall relented, "I'll ask Professor Vector to oversee your training. Return to the castle before nightfall. When I have the time, I'll visit as well."

She hurriedly left, having much to attend to because of the morning's incident.

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