Chapter 290: 0289 The Patron Saint
"Hermione--"
Harry muttered weakly, attempting to stand up several times. However, his body and mind couldn't support him to complete the action, so he had no choice but to crawl towards Hermione on all fours.
Hermione's forehead had turned purple, and blood was flowing from the wound where it had come into contact with the stone. Harry tried to wipe the blood off her face with his sleeve, but his sleeve was already soaked, only smearing Hermione's face with fresh blood.
In that moment, Harry suddenly felt an urge to give up. He stared at Hermione lying in his arms, her face as pale as paper, mechanically repeating the wiping motion.
To be honest, Harry had faced many setbacks before, whether it was the years living with the Dursleys or the various pressures and expectations he faced after entering Hogwarts. These were things that ordinary wizards couldn't imagine. And now, the experiences of the past hour or two, along with the current situation, made Harry feel deeply powerless.
Suddenly, Harry whose vision was blurred felt that everything around him had quieted down. It was as if he had suddenly lost his hearing, and the world became silent.
Every breath he exhaled left clear white traces in the air. The indescribable cold seemed to freeze both his blood and soul, while the despair brewing in his heart erupted like a volcano.
Harry saw them, Dementors, at least dozens of them. They descended from the tall treetops like a dark cloud, hovering above Sirius's head.
"Don't--"
Harry trembled as he pointed his wand at the excited Dementors, his voice barely audible.
"Don't hurt him, he's innocent." Harry pleaded in a voice filled with desperation.
Not a single Dementor cared about Harry's plea. They circled around Sirius's head under the motorcycle for a while. After two minutes, they finally confirmed that the one being crushed under the motorcycle was none other than Sirius Black, who had escaped from under their noses.
"Expecto Patronum."
Harry struggled to say the incantation, but his wand tip showed no sign of change, not even the hazy silver mist that had appeared when he first practiced the Patronus Charm with Professor Lupin.
'Think of something happy—'
Harry told himself, desperately trying to get his numb brain to work—Sirius is innocent, his parents didn't trust the wrong person, their best friend is innocent--
"Expecto Patronum--"
This time, the wand finally showed a slight reaction. A few wisps of silver mist floated towards the Dementors, but in the face of this number of Dementors, such a weak Patronus was useless. It couldn't even dispel the cold brought by these creatures.
Although the Patronus Harry summoned was weak, it still annoyed the Dementors. Their attention briefly shifted from Sirius to Harry.
"Expecto Patronum--"
Despair enveloped Harry's heart, but he couldn't give up because no one else could protect Sirius except him.
He recalled the Firebolt, and now it seemed that Hermione's speculation was most likely correct. It was a Christmas present from Sirius, and in the battle with the werewolves, Sirius had almost sacrificed himself to protect Harry. This warm feeling made Harry's Patronus slightly stronger.
In the hazy silver mist, an indistinct stag appeared. It stumbled and rushed towards the group of Dementors, trying to drive them away. However, several Dementors stepped forward to intercept it, and the stag quickly transformed back into silver mist while facing off against the Dementors.
Harry left Hermione's side, driven by instinct, and crawled towards Sirius. His magic couldn't protect him, so he would use his body, just like how Sirius had protected him before. If these Dementors had any memory of their punishment by Professor Watson, they might show some restraint.
However, Harry had underestimated the Dementors.
A pair of powerful, cold, and sticky hands suddenly grabbed Harry's neck, lifting his face up. He could feel the foul breath spraying onto his face. They wanted to get rid of the obstacle first. As Harry listened to his mother's cries in his ear, he thought wearily.
Buzz!
In the black mist that was about to engulf him, Harry suddenly saw a growing silver light. Then, he fell onto the cold, prickly ground again.
Like the moon suddenly appearing among the treetops, shining silver light surged forward, inch by inch pushing the darkness away from Harry's side. And as it receded, so did the despair and cold.
Something had driven the Dementors away.
Harry realized this, struggling to lift his head. He saw a swift animal darting through the air, driving the Dementors in all directions until they vanished into the night.
The animal leaped and landed on the ground, passing by Harry's side through the woods, finally stopping behind a strangely shaped crooked tree. It was bright, like a unicorn. Harry strained to stay conscious, trying to see who was meeting the creature. The figure looked familiar, but it couldn't be-
The figure and the animal disappeared, and Harry sat kneeling in the dark, motionless. He was at his limit but dared not faint, fearing the Dementors might return.
Perhaps only a few minutes had passed, or maybe several hours had gone by. In any case, Harry remained in the same position like a statue, with only a trace of sanity left, focused on trying to understand why the person who had just summoned the animal had appeared.
"Harry!"
From the direction of Hogwarts, a voice filled with shock and anger called from beyond the woods. Hearing this, Harry's lips twitched, his eyelids drooped, and he collapsed to the ground.
He was safe now; Dumbledore had returned.
+++++++++++++*Scenebreak*+++++++++++++
The air in the infirmary was thick with the heady, intoxicating aroma of potions, a scent that Harry had come to associate with both comfort and dread. The light that bathed Harry's face was a gentle, dappled glow, reminiscent of sunlight filtering through leaves. It was a stark contrast to the sharp, clinical brightness that usually filled the room. He could sense the presence of someone close by, their hands deftly working to remove his garments, their touch clinical yet not unkind as they examined him.
Harry's mind, foggy and disoriented, struggled against the lethargy that weighed heavily upon his limbs. He yearned to rise, to assert some control over his unresponsive body, because in the foggy world around him, he faintly heard voices talking, and there seemed to be quite a few people.
To have so many people "observing" his body made Harry feel a bit embarrassed.
Despite his best efforts, Harry's eyelids remained stubbornly closed, as if sealed by an unseen force, rendering him frustratingly immobile and vulnerable to the curious gazes that he sensed but could not see.
Click!
The click of the door latch echoed ominously through the infirmary, heralding the arrival of new footsteps—hurried, heavy, laden with urgency. A mixture of gasps and the scraping of beds against the stone floor punctuated the tense atmosphere.
"Oh my goodness, Severus and Hagrid!" The voice of Professor McGonagall, usually so composed and authoritative, now trembled with barely contained emotion. Her words were muffled, as though her hand was clasped over her mouth in shock, her eyes brimming with tears that threatened to spill over. "I can't believe it, Albus, I've never seen any of them so injured!"
'Hagrid is back?'
Harry's mind, sluggish and clouded, grappled with the voices, trying to anchor them to familiar faces. The mention of Hagrid sparked a flicker of recognition, and he waited with bated breath for the comforting rumble of the half-giant's voice. But the expected sound never came, leaving Harry adrift in a sea of worry and confusion.
'What happened to Hagrid?' The question gnawed at Harry's consciousness, a persistent whisper that grew louder with each passing second. An urgency took hold of him, a desperate need to open his eyes, to bear witness to the scene that had elicited such distress from his usually stoic professors.
"It's just as Miss Granger described!" Professor Flitwick's voice, typically cheerful and light, now carried an edge of horror that cut through the fog in Harry's mind. "The scene there could give someone nightmares for a whole year, Albus. Bodies were everywhere, werewolf bodies, and even two centaur bodies. I found Severus and Hagrid among the corpses, Fortunately, They are still alive. I did not dare to waste time–"
Dumbledore's eyes glowed with a blue light, He moved away from Harry's bedside with a purposeful stride, his robes billowing behind him as he approached the stretchers bearing Severus and Hagrid.
"I need you to help me assess their injuries, Poppy—" Dumbledore's voice, a blend of command and concern, broke off, leaving a silence that hung heavy in the air, thick with anticipation and dread.
Madam Pomfrey, the matron of the infirmary, soon shattered the silence with her professional assessment. "Severus is just exhausted, Headmaster. He needs a good rest. As for Hagrid, well, you can see for yourself. He's suffered quite a bit. He has at least seven or eight bites, maybe even a dozen. It was those dreadful creatures. Oh my, this could lead to—"
Professor McGonagall's reaction was visceral, her body trembling as if wracked by the same pain that afflicted her colleagues. Her hand flew to her heart, clutching it as though to steady its frantic beating.
"Don't worry, Minerva—" Dumbledore's voice, sharp and clear, cut through the tension, his gaze piercing as it swept over Hagrid's prone form.
"You know, Hagrid's bloodline is resistant to that virus. He won't suffer as Remus did."
"Can you be sure, Albus?"
The uncertainty in Professor McGonagall's voice was palpable as she clung to Dumbledore's arm, her eyes searching his for reassurance.
"I can be sure, Minerva," Dumbledore replied, his tone imbued with a solemnity that left no room for doubt.
At this moment, Dumbledore clearly knew what everyone needed. His voice and emotions quickly stabilized in a short period of time, and he ordered everyone with an irresistible tone.
"Severus and Hagrid both need professional care. Poppy, only you can do this. Pomona, I need you to help me look after Mr. Weasley. Luckily, his condition is not serious, just some shock and bruises. And Filch, I'm afraid Mr. Malfoy can only be entrusted to you. I've already sent a message to St. Mungo's, and they will send someone to bring Draco back to the hospital as soon as possible. But before that, I was wondering if you could find a way to alleviate Mr. Malfoy's current troubles—"
With Dumbledore's orderly guidance, the once-panicked crowd found their purpose, their movements becoming more deliberate as they carried out his orders. One by one, they departed the ward, leaving behind only Harry and Professor McGonagall.
"What can I do, Albus?" Professor McGonagall's inquiry was tinged with concern as she gazed upon Harry, her expression a portrait of anguish.
"Although Miss Granger told us some surprising things, now is not the time to let our guard down, Minerva." Dumbledore said calmly.
"Sirius is still unconscious, and several staff members are watching over him. I need you to keep an eye on him as well, Minerva. And if possible, I would like you to bring Miss Granger here."
The chaotic noise from earlier disappeared like a dream, and Harry finally opened his eyes, eager to talk to Dumbledore. Perhaps it was his anxious mood, or perhaps it was the sudden warmth that surged from his forehead, but Harry finally opened his eyes. And the first thing he saw was Dumbledore retracting his wand.
"I apologize, Harry, I had to use a method to wake you up early–" Dumbledore said apologetically, but Harry didn't have the mood to pay attention to these things. He bounced off the bed like a spring.
"Sirius is innocent, Professor! It's Scabbers, Ron's pet rat, he's actually an Animagus, he's Peter Pettigrew!" The words tumbled from Harry's lips, each one laden with the weight of truth and desperation.
"Professor Lupin, he's badly injured, you need to save him!"
Dumbledore's response was a low murmur, a sound that seemed to carry the weight within it. "Yes, it can be expected that Remus is not in a good situation right now, but Harry, there are probably more urgent matters.... Ah, Miss Granger is here."
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