According to the Ministry's original plan, the Dementors were to search Hogwarts Castle for two full hours—every last corner combed—before withdrawing.
Yes, every last corner... Because from the beginning, they already knew the missing Dementor wasn't in the castle.
But what they didn't expect was that just half an hour into the operation, the entire search had to be abruptly called off.
The reason? A few Dementors, unable to resist temptation, tried to force their way into the Ravenclaw common room—and the leading one was blasted to pieces by an enraged Professor Flitwick!
As a former dueling champion and Hogwarts' Charms Master, Filius Flitwick's mastery of the Patronus Charm far surpassed that of Professor McGonagall.
His Patronus, a swift and nimble hummingbird, zipped through the air and struck with precision—causing the Dementor to explode midair like a firework, leaving only a puff of smoke and a scrap of its ragged cloak.
And, unfortunately for the Ministry, it had been the Dementors who broke protocol first. Flitwick had acted to protect the students—so not even Cornelius Fudge could say a word in protest.
To make matters worse, the incident had finally enraged Dumbledore.
A silver phoenix burst forth above the castle, soaring through the air in a radiant blaze.
Fearing that all 197 Dementors might be wiped out right then and there, Scrimgeour acted swiftly, ordering an immediate halt to the search and commanding all Dementors to leave the castle at once.
To everyone's surprise, Fudge supported the decision.
It had only been a trial run anyway. No sense losing everything over it.
Just as he was pondering what sort of excuse he could craft to explain this mess, a Hit Wizard came rushing over, holding a tattered strip of black cloth.
He whispered something in Fudge's ear.
"Really...? Hmm. Got it." Fudge frowned.
He quickly made his way over to Dumbledore.
"Albus, the missing Dementor has been found."
"Oh?" Dumbledore's voice lifted slightly in curiosity.
"Here." Fudge held out the cloth. "A Hit Wizard discovered this near the edge of the Forbidden Forest. There were magical traces—and Black's footprints nearby."
"You're certain they were Black's?" Dumbledore asked.
"The Hit Wizard confirmed it. Definitely his tracks," Fudge said. "Looks like Black killed the poor creature. That vicious—"
"'Vicious' seems more appropriate for the Dementor," Dumbledore interrupted coldly. "So, Minister, is there anything else you need?"
"No... I mean, isn't this all resolved now?" Fudge said, attempting a strained smile.
"Let's hope so," Dumbledore replied.
A few minutes later, Scrimgeour led the remaining Dementors out of the castle.
Dumbledore waved his wand, sending a golden-red wave of magic rippling through the corridors. Frost and ice crystals began to melt rapidly, soaking into the floor and walls.
Moments later, dozens of house-elves appeared out of thin air, armed with tools. In the blink of an eye, they had cleaned every drop of water, leaving the castle looking almost brand new—at least cleaner than before.
"Did they really find that cloth in the Forbidden Forest?" Dumbledore asked.
"Yes," Hagrid answered, having returned alongside the Hit Wizard. "South edge of the forest. And the footprints were real—I saw them meself."
"How strange…" Dumbledore murmured. "To my knowledge, Sirius Black doesn't have the ability to kill a Dementor. And after all those years in Azkaban, it's highly unlikely he mastered the Patronus Charm on his own.
"So how did he kill it?"
"Maybe he had help," Hagrid blurted. "Like how I couldn't kill the Basilisk alone, but with Fluffy's help, we managed it."
"That would be truly troubling," Dumbledore said softly.
"That person… whoever helped Black kill a Dementor," Snape said, narrowing his eyes toward Lupin, "might also be the one who let him into the castle."
Dumbledore's reply came instantly, voice sharp with finality: "I do not believe there is a single person in this castle who would help Sirius Black break in."
"Of course, Headmaster. Nor do I," Snape said, after a brief pause.
"I'll need to verify that no Dementors were accidentally left behind," Dumbledore continued. "Once that's done, we can have the ghosts inform the students.
"And we shouldn't delay the Quidditch match any longer. This castle could use some laughter again."
"How about this afternoon?" Madam Hooch suggested, completely unfazed by the raging storm outside.
"I think I'd rather enjoy that," Dumbledore smiled, heading back toward his office.
Meanwhile, outside the castle—
A large invisible umbrella shielded Cornelius Fudge from the torrential downpour. He stood under it with a grim expression.
"How many Dementors came out just now?" he asked.
"One hundred ninety-five," Scrimgeour said. "I counted. No mistake."
Fudge's face darkened further.
They had brought 197 Dementors for this operation. Even if Flitwick had destroyed one, there should still have been 196.
Which meant another Dementor had been destroyed—by someone else, someone who hadn't reported it.
"This is outrageous! Do they even respect the Ministry anymore?!" Fudge growled. "And Dumbledore, he—"
His complaints grew uglier by the second. Follow current ɴᴏᴠᴇʟs on novel[f]ire.net
Scrimgeour, however, simply turned to keep counting Dementors, pretending he didn't hear a thing.
But inside, Scrimgeour let out a cold, silent laugh.
He knew exactly how Cornelius Fudge became Minister for Magic.
Put simply—he got lucky.
His main rival had dropped out of the race for mysterious reasons, and with Dumbledore's backing, Fudge had leapt from an obscure position in the Department of Magical Catastrophes to the highest office in the land.
If Dumbledore so much as hinted that he wanted the Minister's seat, Fudge would be ousted the next day—for something like stepping into the Ministry with the wrong foot first.
Fudge himself knew it too.
That's why he only dared rant here, never in front of Dumbledore.
After venting for a good ten minutes, Fudge finally calmed down—only for another thought to strike him.
"What about Sirius Black? Was he in the castle?"
"No," Scrimgeour said, shaking his head. "I brought a Tracer Mirror. The number of wizarding footprints matched exactly with the number of professors—no extras."
"Then... was he really hiding in the Forbidden Forest?" Fudge frowned. "Send the Dementors to search the forest again."
"We can't. Not now," Scrimgeour replied. "One of them's been killed. They're furious."
"They're furious?!" Fudge exploded again, shouting, "We withdrew to protect them, didn't we?! Not because we're afraid of Dumbledore! And now they're throwing a tantrum?!
"Fine! If they want revenge, let them go back to Hogwarts! Let's see how many of those idiots survive the trip!"