131: Attack of the Dementors

131: Attack of the Dementors

Saturday, a stormy day.

It seemed that the heavens were not on Gryffindor's side.

Wood had a grim expression as he watched the storm outside. The wind was so fierce it was about to blow the umbrellas away.

Originally, today they were supposed to have a match against Slytherin, but the Slytherins had dodged it, claiming a teammate was injured.

Yes, that unlucky guy who got swatted down by Buckbeak.

That was Slytherin's new Chaser.

"Those despicable Slytherins!" Wood gritted his teeth, saying, "They're definitely trying to sit back and watch us and Hufflepuff tear each other apart!"

Harry was fuming too, especially after his friend got punished by the Slytherin Head of House to clean the hospital wing toilets.

They all held in their frustration, looking up at the downpour outside. The rain was coming down like bullets, and just hitting their faces felt like being pelted by small stones.

The gale was strong enough to blow any young witch or wizard off their broom; just flying was going to be a challenge.

Harry went to change into his scarlet Quidditch robes. Before he entered the locker room, he spotted Malfoy sulking, his face looking like someone owed him thousands of Galleons.

In the stands...

Goyle and Crabbe were holding up a sun umbrella, while Malfoy, in a foul mood, sat beneath it.

Nearby, John had cast a waterproofing charm, and the rain slid right off him before it could even touch.

Daphne also asked John to cast a waterproofing charm for her.

"Looks like you're not in the best mood," John commented after glancing at Malfoy, already knowing why he was upset.

Malfoy sat down angrily and said, "Damn it! They think I'll lose to Potter."

Originally, Malfoy had been determined to restore his honor, but the Slytherin team captain, Flint, refused the match due to an injured player.

This made Malfoy feel humiliated. He had prepared for everything, and now they were doubting his abilities.

The current Malfoy wasn't someone who backed down from a fight. On the contrary, he was eager to face Harry.

John calmly remarked, "Once you're the captain, you'll be in control of everything."

"But... it's frustrating," Malfoy grumbled, thoroughly annoyed. If Potter found out about this, he'd think Malfoy was scared to lose.

The match was about to begin, with red and yellow blurring together in the rain.

But that wasn't a problem for John. He chuckled softly and said, "Since you can't be on the field, let's cheer for our friends."

He looked over at Cedric, who, as both captain and Seeker for Hufflepuff, wasn't fazed by the downpour.

Cedric smiled kindly at Wood and said, "This will be an exciting match."

Wood shook hands with Cedric, who had a character so likable that even his enemies couldn't help but respect him.

With a sharp whistle, the game began.

Harry shot into the sky like a bolt of lightning, with Cedric right on his tail. They moved like predators hunting in the air, both intensely searching for the Golden Snitch.

Bludgers zoomed dangerously across the field, and Harry barely avoided getting knocked off his broom several times. The rain was relentless, making it hard for anyone to see. For Harry, it was even worse—his glasses were soaked, leaving his vision completely blurred.

It was hard enough just to see people, let alone a walnut-sized Golden Snitch.

The match had gone on for what felt like an eternity. At one point, Harry barely dodged what he couldn't even tell was either a teammate or an opponent.

A flash of lightning split the sky, and Madam Hooch blew her whistle for a time-out.

Taking advantage of the break, Harry gathered some understanding of the situation.

Wood's brutal training had given them a 50-point lead despite the harsh weather, but unless they caught the Golden Snitch, the match could go on until midnight.

Harry took the chance to wipe his glasses, but it was futile—within five seconds of being back out in the rain, he wouldn't be able to see a thing.

In desperation, Harry muttered, "With these glasses, there's no hope for me."

And just like in every tough moment, when a son is struggling, a mother's help always seems to appear.

He looked as if he might faint from excitement as the albatross weaved in and out of the swarming Dementors.

John narrowed his eyes, his right hand extended as if holding something invisible.

The rain within a hundred-meter radius began to change direction, gathering toward his right hand.

Soon, a massive water sphere, ten meters in diameter, formed in John's hand.

Everyone was stunned by this sight.

John inserted his wand into the water sphere and softly chanted once more, "Expecto Patronum."

The albatross rushed towards the water ball, and after entering, the water ball changed.

Like a newborn bird unfurling its wings, the water sphere expanded and morphed into a gigantic albatross, glowing with white light.

It soared through the air, swallowing the Dementors it encountered.

The creatures it devoured disappeared, unable to escape from within.

The albatross moved as though it was hunting, consuming every Dementor that had entered the Quidditch pitch, and even chasing down those attempting to flee.

Sweat, or perhaps rain, dripped from John's forehead, while his magic crystal rapidly depleted.

Out of the hundred Dementors that had arrived, more than twenty were devoured!

The giant albatross rushed towards the water ball, and after entering, the water ball changed.

finally landed, losing its form and reverting to a water sphere.

"Brilliant, absolutely brilliant!" Professor Flitwick clapped his hands so hard they turned red. His voice grew even more excited. "Combining a Patronus Charm with the Water Prison Spell—if this were in class, I'd award 100 points without hesitation!"

This voice shattered the stillness that had settled over the pitch, as all eyes turned to John in the stands.

With his right hand placed on his chest, John smiled and bowed slightly toward Professor Flitwick. "You're too kind," he said.

Powerful!

Graceful!

Two words came to everyone's mind: powerful and graceful.

""S-So Cool!!""

As they realized that John had driven away the Dementors, the young wizards erupted in deafening cheers.

John was smiling, but then he suddenly remembered something—he had forgotten about someone.

He looked up.

A figure was rapidly falling from the sky, and John, already too late to act, could only watch.

"Arresto Momentum!"

A loud voice rang out, and Harry's body, just moments from crashing into the ground, was suddenly halted in mid-air.

John turned toward the source of the voice—Dumbledore, who hadn't used a wand, but merely extended a hand.

Wandless magic!

John knew well the strength of this old wizard and respectfully bowed toward him.

Dumbledore smiled warmly, his gaze shifting to the giant Patronus-water prison, surprise glinting in his eyes.

It was an exceptional variation of a spell. Even Dumbledore had to admit that Voldemort would have stood no chance against John in his third year.

However, Harry wasn't as lucky. He had fainted, and unsurprisingly, Hufflepuff won the match.

Upon hearing that Harry had passed out, Cedric suddenly felt as if he had taken advantage of the situation.

In a gesture of sportsmanship, he proposed a rematch.

His graciousness impressed even Gryffindor, and if Wood had been a girl, he might have rushed over to confess his love to Cedric on the spot.

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