Chapter 317: Dementors
The creature wore a long, black cloak. Its skin looked as if it had been soaked in water until it rotted, its hands were crusted and scabbed, and beneath the hood, there were no facial features at all, only a round, gaping hole where its mouth should have been.
When he drew close to it, Dudley had felt as though every happy memory he possessed was being sucked away, leaving him drowning in bleak, bottomless despair.
With the appearance of the Solar Halo, however, that sensation had eased a great deal.
The Sun Pathway's powers were innately opposed to such dark beings, and the purifying effect contained within the Solar Holy Light possessed a devastating lethality against them.
Dudley watched the monster burning within the pillar of golden light and forced himself to calm down.
It was his first time seeing such a thing, but he had already guessed what it was.
A Dementor.
The wardens of Azkaban.
He remembered how Hagrid had once described his time in Azkaban, and what Dudley had just experienced matched Hagrid's words almost perfectly.
But what was a Dementor doing here?
According to Hagrid, Dementors only existed at Azkaban, and without orders from the Ministry of Magic, they never left the prison.
Dudley's heart stirred. He looked farther into the sky.
Several kilometres out, he sensed another cold aura approaching. Clearly, there was more than one Dementor in the area.
"If Dementors never appear anywhere else without Ministry orders, then the fact they are here must mean this is an official Ministry deployment," Dudley thought.
He glanced back at the Dementor burning in the distance and another image flashed across his mind: the fugitive in the news, with his gaunt, wasted face, matted long hair, and wild, enraged eyes glaring at the camera.
"That fugitive... he is not just a Muggle criminal. He is an escapee from Azkaban."
At last, everything clicked into place.
Only an Azkaban escapee would warrant this level of attention and a dedicated hotline. At the same time, the Dementors had left the prison and were sweeping the countryside, hunting for the fugitive named Sirius Black.
"Black. Of course. I should have realised sooner," Dudley murmured.
He should have noticed that surname at once. Black was the name of an old pure-blood family. He had not connected the dots before because the wanted notice had come from the Muggle news. It was hard to immediately associate it with the wizarding world.
"It seems the upper levels of the magical world and the Muggle world are much more closely linked than most people imagine," Dudley said softly.
In the distance, the Dementor consumed by Solar Holy Light was still thrashing, badly wounded but not dead.
"Does this count as assaulting an officer?" Dudley wondered.
Faced with such a vile, dark creature, any wizard's first instinct would be to destroy it as quickly as possible. Who would think of it as a prison guard?
Given the situation, though, explaining this later might be a bit awkward.
"Since I have already struck once, I might as well finish it," Dudley decided.
His eyes hardened. He raised his hand and called down a second shaft of sunlight.
Boom.
Under the blazing radiance, the Dementor's decayed flesh looked even more grotesque, as if the smell of rot billowed across the sky.
When the light faded, the Dementor had no strength left to resist. It died beneath the holy radiance and dissolved into nothing.
There was no defence against this kind of counter.
Solar Holy Light was a perfect bane to such dark, evil entities. Two beams were all it had taken to annihilate a Dementor.
"These dark magical creatures are truly terrifying," Dudley thought, remembering how he had felt only moments ago. He could not help a lingering shiver of fear.
If a large number of them appeared at once, even he would struggle to cope. It could very easily push him towards losing control.
"Still, my memories are not so easy to feed on. Even in my happiest recollections, there are depths of strangeness you cannot bear. If you really tried to absorb them, who would die first is far from certain," Dudley thought grimly.
He scanned the sky around him. Seeing no further Dementors, he steered his broom downward, heading back to the ground.
A short while later, he landed beside Harry.
"What happ—"
Harry had barely spoken when Dudley cut him off and dragged him back into the house.
"If anyone asks you anything later, you did not see anything and you do not know anything. Understand?" Dudley said at once.
Harry blinked, then nodded. He did not know exactly what had just happened, but from the look on Dudley's face, it was serious.
"Back to your room," Dudley added.
He tossed the broom. It flew away on its own and returned to the storage space.
Seeing that, Harry turned and went back into his bedroom.
A few minutes later, Dudley was also back inside his own room, and the house fell into silence.
Not long after, the cold returned, even harsher than before. The temperature dipped further.
This time, however, no one appeared outside the window.
Lying in bed, Harry felt a wave of inexplicable sadness rising in his chest. His emotions slid slowly towards a bottomless pit. It was as though every happy memory he had was drifting away from him, and all the warmth in his life had been extinguished.
Pop, pop, pop...
Several soft cracks sounded, and a handful of cloaked figures appeared on the lawn of 4 Privet Drive.
At their head stood a tall black man. Dudley recognised him at once. Kingsley.
"Are we sure it is all right to go straight in like this?" one of the others whispered.
"It is an emergency. There is no choice," another replied.
"Never thought this would get so messy. Bloody nuisance," a third muttered.
Kingsley scanned the area, his gaze coming to rest on the upstairs windows of Dudley and Harry's rooms.
A moment later, Dudley appeared at his window, locking eyes with Kingsley down below.
"Oh no, we have been seen," one Auror hissed.
"Relax. It is Dudley Dursley," another said quickly. "We are fine."
Dudley looked down at Kingsley with a faintly puzzled expression.
After a brief pause, Kingsley raised a hand, beckoned, and then pointed meaningfully towards Harry's window.
Dudley understood at once and stepped away.
A short time later, the front door opened, and Dudley and Harry came out together to meet them on the lawn.
"What happened?" Dudley asked first.
"A very dangerous fugitive has escaped. We are tracking him," Kingsley said.
As he finished, his eyes flicked instinctively to Harry.
"And," he added, "it seems something has gone wrong with our prison guards in this area. Did either of you notice anything just now?"