"My gosh, Dementors! They're heading for the Quidditch pitch!"
"They're going to attack the players—I saw them!"
"This is awful, the players are in danger!"
"Quick, go tell the professors!"
"Stationing Azkaban's guards at Hogwarts? Only a madman would come up with that idea."
Hogwarts Castle was in chaos.
The Ravenclaw students, housed in the castle's high towers, were the first to notice the Dementors' unusual behavior. They immediately reported it to their Head of House, Professor Flitwick.
Realizing the gravity of the situation, Flitwick rushed to inform Dumbledore.
While Flitwick rallied the other professors, Dumbledore hurried alone to the Quidditch pitch. If the Dementors launched an indiscriminate attack there, Hogwarts would be in serious trouble.
He arrived just in time to see a brilliant silver light piercing through the dark clouds, driving back the swarm of Dementors.
Thank goodness for Dudley, Dumbledore thought.
Shame his Patronus Charm hasn't fully formed yet.
But before Dumbledore could fully relax, Dudley launched a second attack—and this time, it wasn't a Patronus Charm.
In an instant, a dazzling light illuminated the entire world.
This wasn't ordinary light. The Dementors let out agonized wails as their bodies began to rot under its glow. Forgetting all about Wood and the other players, they shrieked and fled in a panic.
At that moment, countless students saw it: a sun appeared in the sky above the Hogwarts Quidditch pitch.
When the students' vision cleared, not a single Dementor remained in sight.
Dudley had known since the start of term, when he'd studied a captured Dementor, that the Lumos spell could harm them. As for how many of the hundred Dementors survived his full-powered Lumos? Well, that wasn't his concern.
One of the red-and-white balls at his waist was already full.
By the time Dumbledore arrived, the Dementors were gone.
"Professor Dumbledore, I've driven the Dementors off," Dudley said matter-of-factly.
Dumbledore nodded, his expression grave. He quickly approached Wood and the other players, who had descended from the air, and checked on them.
They were in bad shape—pale as ghosts, not a trace of color in their faces. They hadn't suffered the Dementor's Kiss, but being so close to such a massive swarm had clearly taken a toll on their mental state.
They'd need time to recover.
If Dudley hadn't acted in time, Wood and the others might not have seen tomorrow's sunrise. Dementors didn't exactly show mercy.
"Professor, this is serious," Dudley said. "They've started actively attacking wizards."
"I understand," Dumbledore replied, his voice clipped to three words before falling silent.
His expression, though, spoke volumes—he was furious.
Dudley didn't stick around for the aftermath, leaving it to Dumbledore. He took Hermione and Harry and left the scene.
The incident skyrocketed Dudley's reputation to an almost unbelievable level.
Mr. Dursley took out a hundred Dementors with a single spell, just like Dumbledore at the opening feast.
"He's as powerful as Dumbledore," the Slytherin students whispered, hitting the nail on the head.
That night, Minister for Magic Cornelius Fudge stormed into the Headmaster's office—again. It was anyone's guess how many times he'd been there.
It felt like his early days as Minister, when he'd run to Dumbledore for advice on every little thing.
"Albus, I need an explanation!" Fudge barked. "The Dementors claim someone attacked them. At least thirty of them are dead!"
Thirty Dementors—out of their already small population—gone in one go. The Dementors were in an uproar, demanding answers from the Ministry.
The audacity of monsters playing the victim card almost made Dumbledore laugh.
"Cornelius, I'm the one who needs an explanation," he shot back.
"Do you know what those Dementors did? They attacked students. At least twenty young witches and wizards were affected. If someone hadn't stopped them, it wouldn't just be 'affected'—they'd be dead."
"You should be preparing to face the angry parents demanding answers."
With every word from Dumbledore, Fudge's face grew paler. By the end, he was practically swaying on his feet, as if he could already see the flood of Howlers piling up in his office.
"My desk will be buried in them," Fudge muttered, collapsing into a chair, his back drenched in cold sweat.
"Dementors are incredibly hard to kill!" he protested. "Even pointing a Patronus Charm at them takes ages to do any real damage. Thirty dead? That's absurd!"
If Dumbledore had his way, he'd rather the entire Dementor population be wiped out.
"They can't be trusted," Dumbledore said. "Some might already be lurking elsewhere. You'd better keep a close eye on any reports of Dementor attacks on Muggles or wizards."
After a brief exchange, Fudge couldn't wait to leave. "Albus, thank you for the information. I need to get back before the Daily Prophet starts stirring things up."
He scurried out of the office as quickly as he'd come.
Cornelius, there were so many ways to hunt Sirius Black. Why did you choose Dementors? Dumbledore thought, exasperated. Auror patrols would've been a perfectly good option.
He sighed. Over a decade as Minister, and Fudge hadn't grown an inch. Worse, he'd stopped listening to advice altogether.
---
The next day, the scattered Dementors slunk back to the outskirts of Hogwarts Castle. After their thrashing, they were thoroughly subdued, not daring to sneak into the castle or attack students. They stuck to their assigned task: patrolling the perimeter for Sirius Black.
Dementors weren't exactly brainy. They didn't understand the Ministry's politics or rules. Strength was the only language they respected.
The Dementor attack became a minor blip in Hogwarts life. Apart from the affected students, who were still recovering, most treated it as gossip to chat about over meals. Soon enough, the third-years were buzzing with excitement again for their favorite class: Defense Against the Dark Arts.
Today, Gryffindor and Hufflepuff were having a joint lesson. Students from both Houses arrived early, eagerly waiting for Professor Lupin.
When the bell rang and the classroom door swung open, it wasn't Lupin who walked in.
It was Mr. Dursley—Dudley.