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HP Chapter 52: The Dementor
🕑 Added 2025-08-24 14:00:06 +0000 UTCThick black clouds loomed low over Hogwarts Castle. Lightning flashed across the sky, followed by thunder that shook the air. Rain, heavy as beans, pounded on the Great Hall’s ceiling with relentless noise.
Though it was daytime, dozens of candles still flickered throughout the Hall. Another bolt of lightning lit up the space in a blinding flash.
“I think choosing not to watch the match was a very wise decision,” Anne said calmly as she spread mayonnaise over a slice of toast.
Fanny put down her milk and said earnestly, “A little rain won’t cancel a Quidditch match. And besides…” She gestured toward Pansy and Millicent, who were giggling and whispering as they stole glances at Cedric at the Hufflepuff table. “I’m not the only one looking forward to it.”
“Alright, alright. You’ve got a point. Good luck out there, try not to get soaked… though I think that’s inevitable.”
After breakfast, Anne headed to the library to return three hefty volumes of A History of Medieval Magic to Madam Pince, then checked out three equally massive tomes. Back in her dorm, she shelved the new books and picked up a large wooden box. It was for the hospital wing, Professor Sprout had asked Anne to deliver it to Madam Pomfrey after a basic extraction process. In the magical world, medicine was inseparable from Herbology and Potions.
“Reeve?”
“Madam Pomfrey, this is from Professor Sprout. Refined extract,” Anne said, setting the box down on a table and lifting the lid to reveal neat rows of conical glass vials filled with a pale violet liquid that shimmered faintly.
Madam Pomfrey rose from her comfortable armchair and approached, picking up a vial and holding it up to the sunlight streaming through the windows. She smiled warmly at Anne. “Reeve, no wonder Pomona always speaks so highly of you.”
“I only have a little more patience and attention to detail than most my age,” Anne said modestly. “There are plenty of clever students at Hogwarts.”
“Well, aren’t you a humble one…” Madam Pomfrey chuckled, lifting the box and heading toward the medical supplies room. “Why didn’t you go watch the Quidditch match?”
“The rain was too heavy. And honestly, I’ve always thought Quidditch seemed a bit too dangerous,” Anne said as she followed her, helping arrange the bottles on the shelves.
“It is dangerous,” Madam Pomfrey agreed, waving her wand to summon several large empty bottles from another shelf. “Every year, some students end up here because of Quidditch… By the way, Reeve, how have you been sleeping lately?”
“Much better, ma’am. I finished the last Calming Draught a few days ago, but I haven’t had any nightmares since,” Anne replied while putting the last of the vials in place.
“That’s good to hear,” Madam Pomfrey said.
Just as they stepped out of the storeroom, the infirmary doors burst open. A crowd of drenched students stormed in, shouting and panicked. Floating above them was a stretcher, on it lay a motionless figure.
Madam Pomfrey’s face changed instantly. She rushed forward and transferred the boy to a hospital bed. Anne followed closely. It was Harry Potter.
Before Anne could take it in, two soaking wet figures hurled themselves at her. She barely had time to react as Fanny and Hermione clung to her tightly.
She wrapped one arm around each of them. Both girls were cold and trembling. Anne gently patted their backs as they cried, trying to comfort them.
Through the crowd of Gryffindors, Anne caught a glimpse of Harry, mud-covered, eyes shut, lying still.
Voices around the bed were filled with panic.
“Thank Merlin the ground was soft.”
“I thought he was a goner.”
“Even his glasses didn’t break…”
“That fall… good heavens, it’s the scariest thing I’ve ever seen.”
Professor McGonagall tried repeatedly to calm the students so Madam Pomfrey could work.
Anne coaxed the girls to sit down on a nearby bed. “He’ll be alright,” she said gently. “Madam Pomfrey will take good care of him.”
“He’s fine! Just unconscious,” Madam Pomfrey announced. “Please move aside. I need to fetch some potions. Minerva, can you tell me what happened?”
Professor McGonagall quickly explained. “Dumbledore is negotiating with the Dementors now. I need to return to the school, Harry’s in your care.”
The reassurance calmed Fanny and Hermione slightly. Their sobs faded into quiet sniffles. Anne waited until they settled, then fetched two warm, dry towels from a cabinet and wrapped them around the girls.
Madam Pomfrey returned with a potion. “Everyone, out! Don’t crowd the patient.”
“We’re not leaving until Harry wakes up,” said Fred defiantly.
“Yeah, he’s going to have loads of questions when he does,” George added.
The crowd echoed in agreement.
Madam Pomfrey sighed but didn’t argue. She helped Harry drink the potion, then added, “But each of you will be taking a dose of this as well, I won’t have you all coming down with colds.”
Groans spread instantly. Anne was called over to help distribute the medicine, after all, there were over twenty students.
When she returned with a tray full of small cups, Harry had already woken up. He was asking about the match against Hufflepuff, but the answer wasn’t encouraging. Gryffindor had lost. Cedric had caught the Snitch just before Harry fell, and the team admitted defeat without complaint.
Anne handed out a cup to each student, ensuring they all drank it. Many Gryffindors downed it in one gulp and handed the cup back with a grimace. Fred and George pulled faces and asked Anne if they had to drink it.
“If you catch a cold, don’t come asking me science questions,” Anne replied.
They exchanged a look, then chugged it down in perfect sync.
Ten minutes later, Madam Pomfrey began ushering people out. The Gryffindor team and most of the students filed out. Only Ron, Hermione, Fanny, and Anne remained.
They gathered near Harry’s bed.
“Dumbledore was furious,” Hermione said in a shaky voice. “I’ve never seen him like that. When you fell, he ran straight onto the pitch. He slowed your fall with magic before you hit the ground. Then he cast a silver spell at the Dementors. They flew off immediately. He was livid they had come onto the field, we heard him…”
“Then he levitated you onto a stretcher,” Ron added. “You floated all the way back here, and he walked beside you the whole time. We all thought you…”
His voice trailed off.
Harry didn’t respond. He stared down, clearly deep in thought.
Anne guessed he was remembering what the Dementor had forced him to relive, something dark and painful.
“Harry?” Fanny said gently.
He looked up slowly, his eyes finally focusing. “Did anyone get my Nimbus 2000?”
Fanny and Hermione both turned to Ron.
“Well…” Ron hesitated. “It kind of… got blown away when you fell…”
“And?” Harry asked.
“And then… it hit the Whomping Willow,” Hermione said.
Harry frowned. “And then?”
“You know the Whomping Willow,” Ron said. “It doesn’t take kindly to being hit.”
“Flitwick managed to retrieve what was left of it before you woke up,” Ron added, stepping aside with Fanny.
Harry looked over to see a pile of splintered wood and broken broom bristles lying on a chair.
He stared at it for a long time before letting out a quiet “Oh.”
Fanny, Ron, and Hermione looked at each other, unsure what to say. They glanced at Anne, hoping she would speak up.
At that moment, Madam Pomfrey appeared again, carrying a fresh potion. “Why are you still here? Reeve, take them back. Potter needs rest.”
The four of them left, and Madam Pomfrey shut the door firmly behind them.
Their clothes were still dripping wet. Ron’s robes left a trail of puddles.
“You two need to get back to your dorms and take a hot shower,” Anne said to Ron and Hermione. “Harry will be fine. And Gryffindor still has a chance at the Quidditch Cup. The season’s far from over, you’ve only lost 100 points. Harry’s the youngest Seeker in a century, remember? He did beat Malfoy and his Nimbus 2001 with that broom.”
Their expressions lightened. Hermione and Ron nodded silently and made their way to the Gryffindor common room. Anne accompanied Fanny back to the Slytherin dorms.
Harry spent the entire weekend in the hospital wing, and Fanny kept dragging Anne to visit him whenever they had time. On Sunday afternoon, they even ran into Cedric from Hufflepuff, Fanny’s opinion of him rose even higher.
On Monday, Harry returned to class, but things didn’t improve much. Malfoy’s taunts grew worse. Now out of his sling, Malfoy mocked Harry every time they crossed paths, mimicking his fall from the broom.
During one Potions class, while Snape’s back was turned, Malfoy imitated a Dementor again. This time, Ron lost his temper and hurled a huge, slippery crocodile heart straight at him, hitting Malfoy square in the face. Snape deducted fifty points from Gryffindor in a fury, but after class, most Gryffindors patted Ron on the back, admiring his boldness.
Fanny praised Ron’s actions in private. Anne only gave a faint smile. In her opinion, fifty points was a steep price to pay for hitting Malfoy in the face.
