章 109: Chapter 109: A Winter's Conversation
"Augustus, Harry, can you both stay for a moment? I have some questions for you," Professor Lupin called to them.
Augustus doubled back from the doorway as Lupin draped a cloth over the box containing the hinkypunk.
"I heard about the Quidditch match," Lupin said, turning back to the lectern and packing his books into a worn briefcase. "I also heard about your broomstick. That's unfortunate. Can it be repaired?"
"It's beyond repair," Harry said. "The Whomping Willow smashed it to bits. If Augustus hadn't saved me at the last moment, my outcome might have been worse than the broomstick's." Harry sighed regretfully.
"No one could have foreseen the Dementors invading the grounds at that time. However, it's clear that Augustus taught them a lesson they won't soon forget. That act likely relieved many students and staff. Did the Ministry give you any trouble?" Lupin asked, his concern evident.
"Thanks to Professor Dumbledore, the Ministry classified the incident as an unfortunate accident and placed the blame solely on the Dementors. Thank you for asking," Augustus replied with a faint smile.
Lupin nodded. "That's good to hear."
Harry hesitated, glancing at Lupin before blurting out the question he couldn't hold back, though he wished he could. "Why? Why do they affect me so much? Am I…?"
"It has nothing to do with weakness," Lupin interrupted sharply, as though he had read Harry's mind. "The Dementors' effect on you is more pronounced because you've experienced greater horrors than most people ever have."
Harry looked puzzled, prompting Lupin to elaborate. "Dementors affect those with truly traumatic memories more intensely. Humans naturally suppress painful experiences, overlaying them with happier ones. But when Dementors feed on those happy memories, the deeply buried traumas resurface. That's why they're especially dangerous to those with profound past sorrows."
Soft winter sunlight streamed through the window, casting a golden glow on Augustus's flaxen hair, making it shimmer like spun silk. He adjusted his stance and offered his own explanation:
"Dementors target joy and hope, feeding on them like sustenance. Those with strong, positive emotions become their prime targets. It's why Quidditch matches, with their excitement and happiness, were like a feast for them."
Lupin nodded. "Well said. Dementors are among the most malevolent creatures on earth. They thrive in darkness, draining peace, hope, and joy from the air. Even Muggles can feel their presence, though they can't see them. Prolonged exposure to a Dementor will strip away every positive emotion, leaving only the worst memories. Eventually, they render their victims soulless, as evil and empty as they are. Harry, what happened to you would have caused anyone to fall from their broom. There's no shame in it."
"When they get close to me…" Harry's voice was tight as he glanced between Augustus and Lupin, his face etched with pain. "I can hear Voldemort killing my mother."
Augustus's expression grew somber, and he gave a slight shake of his head. Lupin's arm twitched as if he wanted to place a comforting hand on Harry's shoulder but thought better of it. After a moment of silence, Harry spoke again.
"Why did they come to the pitch, though?"
"They were hungry," Augustus said coldly. "Stationed outside the school for so long without human prey, they hadn't fed in ages. The emotions from a Quidditch match—joy, excitement—are the perfect feast for them."
"Azkaban must be terrible," Harry muttered. Lupin nodded darkly.
"The prison is on a remote island, surrounded by water. But it doesn't need walls. The Dementors keep everyone trapped. They drain the prisoners of any hope or sanity. Most lose their minds within weeks."
"Indeed," Augustus added with a faint, wry smile. "If Muggles knew about Azkaban, they'd consider their prisons merciful in comparison."
"But Black escaped from them," Harry said slowly. "He got out…"
Lupin's briefcase slipped from the desk. He bent quickly to pick it up, his movements slightly clumsy. Augustus observed him with a flicker of suspicion, recalling Snape's earlier remarks to Dumbledore. Could Lupin truly be innocent?
"Yes," Lupin said as he straightened up. "Black must have found a way to resist them. I can't imagine how. A wizard who spends too much time near Dementors loses even the ability to perform magic…"
"Augustus drove off a swarm of Dementors on the train, and then during the match, he destroyed dozens of them," Harry pointed out.
Lupin looked at Augustus with genuine curiosity. "I must admit, I'm fascinated by the spells you used. The standard Patronus Charm can defend against one or two Dementors, but it could never achieve what you did. Many in the wizarding world are speculating about your spells. If they have broader applications beyond Dementors, they could be revolutionary."
"It's merely family magic," Augustus replied calmly. "Our second patriarch created it, and subsequent generations refined it into a system. It's called Light Magic, and it targets all forms of malevolent undead, not just Dementors."
Lupin nodded appreciatively. "A remarkable feat. To establish an entire branch of magic—your ancestor must have been a true master. The Julius family clearly has no shortage of talent."
"You flatter us." Augustus inclined his head, offering a modest acknowledgment of his family's legacy.
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