The train continued its journey northward, with the rain intensifying by the minute.
Thick black clouds loomed ominously, as if ready to collapse from the heavens. What had started as a refreshing drizzle now felt oppressive and suffocating.
And deeply unsettling.
The train swayed as raindrops hammered against the windows.
The rain had grown so intense that Glenn once again used his heightened perception to scan the train. After focusing briefly on Hermione to recharge himself, he extended his awareness beyond the train. The rain had become a deafening roar, as though the sky had been torn open with countless gashes, pouring torrents of water like waterfalls onto the earth.
Though it wasn't yet time for nightfall, the sky had turned completely dark.
A strange sensation crept into Glenn's mind—a stabbing pain, sharp like needles, that immediately put him on high alert.
It was malice.
But its source was still unclear.
"Meow!"
On the table, Crookshanks, who had been napping, seemed to sense the malice as well. The cat instantly awoke, its already fluffy fur standing on end, and let out a sharp cry—not loud, but piercing enough to cut through the tension.
Then it leapt into Glenn's arms, curling into a tight ball.
A wise creature knows when to yield; Crookshanks was the epitome of self-preservation.
Glenn: …
Glenn immediately expanded the range of his heightened perception, but found nothing.
The next moment, however, he distinctly felt the train begin to slow down.
Judging by the time and the train's speed, they shouldn't have reached Hogsmeade Station yet. Normally, the train wouldn't be slowing down at this point.
"Hermione."
After a moment of hesitation, Glenn gently shook the girl in his arms to wake her.
"Mm… huh? Is it dark already? Are we there yet…"
Hermione slowly opened her eyes, sitting up groggily. Her bushy hair was slightly disheveled, with a stray strand hanging over her lips.
She rubbed her face like a kitten washing itself, then tidied her messy hair before looking at Glenn.
"No, the Hogwarts Express shouldn't be arriving at the station yet. The train has stopped due to some kind of accident or issue."
Glenn extended his heightened perception along the train tracks ahead, but still found nothing.
"I have a bad feeling… something out there is directing malice toward us. And it's not just that."
"Be prepared—there might be danger."
Still drowsy, Hermione decisively cast a Concentration Charm on herself to dispel the sleepiness from her mind. She then gently shook Ginny and Luna awake before splashing a jet of cold water on Draco and Neville's faces.
"?!"
The two boys jolted awake instantly. Draco was about to curse when Hermione silenced him with a single look.
Danger.
Both Draco and Neville could read the warning in Hermione's eyes.
Ginny and Luna began to stir, and Neville quickly woke up Hannah, who had been leaning against him.
Wait, was there something odd about that?
Never mind, now wasn't the time to dwell on it.
"What's going on? Why is the train slowing down? Are we at the school yet?"
Ginny yawned, smacking her lips.
Hannah was now awake as well. Seeing this, Hermione turned on the light in the compartment.
"Ugh."
Draco and Neville's expressions instantly turned into that of the classic "old man on the subway looking at a phone meme."
The girls, still not fully awake, were spared this ordeal.
"No, we haven't reached the school yet."
"The Hogwarts Express has inexplicably stopped early, but Glenn says there might be danger nearby, so I woke you all up."
"Stay alert, everyone."
Soft light emanated from the tip of Hermione's wand, illuminating the group. She then looked at Glenn, as if asking what to do next.
Glenn had already removed his blindfold, though his eyes remained closed. He was fully immersed in his heightened perception.
The range of his perception had been expanded to ten times its usual limit—pushing the boundaries of what he could achieve.
And this was only possible by sacrificing the precision of his sensory details.
Still, it was enough.
Through his heightened perception, Glenn had detected the anomaly.
In the sky.
Many anomalies. Far too many.
His perception instantly contracted, focusing on a direct line between his current position and the source of the anomaly.
The entities exuding malice toward the Hogwarts Express finally took on more detailed forms within his perception.
They were identical in appearance, their bodies resembling those of corpses that had been submerged in water, bloated and decayed, only to be hung in a cold, drafty place to dry. Emaciated, greenish, their flesh torn and mangled, their entire bodies were riddled with wounds. Their hands, in particular, were grotesque, with scabbed and rotted palms that seemed to have been decaying for ages.
Tattered, ancient black cloaks draped over their corpse-like bodies, the frayed and filthy black fabric hanging in strips, swaying in the air as if both tangible and intangible.
The cloaks had black hoods, which covered their heads. Beneath the hoods was black cloth, wrapping their entire heads. Underneath that cloth, where their facial features should have been, there were no discernible features—only a gaping black void, an abyss leading to nowhere.
Glenn could clearly sense that the temperature around these creatures plummeted. Even the torrential rain seemed to pause slightly within their vicinity, affected by their presence.
They were absorbing heat.
The area around them was visibly darker.
They were absorbing light.
Shrouded in darkness, only a faint white mist surrounded them.
It was the water vapor, frozen into tiny ice crystals by the intense cold.
These creatures were part of the dark magical beings of the wizarding world.
No one knew their origins, but their name alone was enough to strike fear into anyone who heard it.
Especially the prisoners of Azkaban.
Wherever they passed, all joy, hope, and courage would be devoured, leaving only fear, despair, and emptiness.
It was said that they fed on the positive emotions of humans. Once those emotions were consumed, all that remained within the victim was terror and void, along with an endless torrent of negative emotions.
But the reality was far more horrifying than the feeling itself.
Their true sustenance was the soul. They would lift their hoods to deliver a final kiss to their prey.
The kiss that drained the victim's soul.
Stripped of what made them human, even if their heart and brain continued to function, there was no possibility of recovery.
No self-awareness, no cherished memories, no… anything. Only an unending storm of negative emotions would remain, ravaging the hollow, decaying body. The victim would become a walking corpse.
Just like most of the prisoners in Azkaban.
For these creatures worked for the Ministry of Magic, serving as the guards of Azkaban.
They were called…
"Dementors."
~~~~❃❃~~~~~~~~❃❃~~~~
The story isn't over...
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