After the professor left, the noise in the Great Hall got even louder.

"They can't do this!" Hermione said angrily. "The books clearly state that Dementors are forbidden in any populated area—let alone Hogwarts Castle!"

"So what?" Ron said. "It's the Minister of Magic who approved it. You can go tell Cornelius Fudge yourself that he's wrong."

"Don't worry, I will," Hermione snapped, then turned to Harry. "Harry, are you… are you okay? You look awful."

"I'm— I'm fine." Harry shook his head, trying to put on an indifferent expression.

"I was just saying it's almost time for class. We should get going."

"Right." Hermione checked the time. "Ugh, Divination again. If you're all finished eating, we'd better leave now."

Ron immediately shoved the last of his boiled potatoes into his mouth.

Harold also set down his utensils and headed with the others toward the North Tower.

He, too, was surprised.

It was just one missing Dementor—why was the Ministry making such a big deal of it? Even the Minister himself and the Head of the Auror Office were coming.

When Sirius Black had broken into the castle, only Scrimgeour had shown up.

Did this mean a missing Dementor was more important than the only escaped prisoner from Azkaban?

Harold still hadn't figured it out by the time they climbed the soft ladder into the Divination classroom.

"Harold…" Harry suddenly nudged his arm.

"What is it?" Harold looked up.

"Can you… can you do a reading for me?" Harry said hesitantly. "For the day the Dementors come into the castle—will I faint… if I see them?"

"I thought you didn't believe in Divination?" Harold asked, amused.

Because of that whole teacup incident in their first class, Harry had never really taken Divination seriously. He always treated it more as a light elective or a fun little game.

Even when Harold had occasionally predicted something that came true, Harry had assumed it was just a lucky guess and never gave it much thought.

Like last time, when Harry had asked Harold to do a reading about whether he'd encounter Sirius Black in Hogsmeade—he hadn't cared much about the result.

Because, either way, he wasn't allowed to go to Hogsmeade, so the answer didn't matter.

But this time was different. Harold could tell he actually meant it.

"I—I don't know," Harry said softly. "Maybe I just don't want to faint in front of everyone again. Even if you're just making me feel better."

"All right. I'll take a look," Harold said, staring into the crystal ball on the table and focusing his thoughts:

When the Dementors enter the castle, will Harry Potter encounter them… When the Dementors enter the castle, will Harry Potter encounter them…

He repeated the question three times in his mind before the mist inside the ball finally began to shift. Silver-white fog churned, gradually forming an image.

It was the entrance hall of Hogwarts Castle.

First, a round figure walked in from outside, wearing a pinstriped suit and a bowler hat… Cornelius Fudge. He looked exactly as he had the last time Harold saw him in Diagon Alley.

A few seconds later, another person stepped into view—a tall, slightly lean man with a mane of coarse, grayish-yellow hair, giving him a lion-like appearance.

That had to be Rufus Scrimgeour.

They entered the castle—and then dozens, maybe hundreds of black Dementors surged in behind them.

The image abruptly vanished, dissolving back into swirling mist.

"Well?" Harry asked in a low voice. "What did you see?"

"Nothing," Harold said honestly.

"Huh?"

"The image just disappeared."

"Is the crystal ball broken?" Harry quickly switched their positions. "Use mine. It looks a bit newer than yours."

Harold peered into the other one and repeated the question silently.

Sure enough, the same thing happened—the moment the Dementors appeared, the image vanished.

He told Harry the result.

"This one's broken too?" Harry asked.

"Probably not," Harold shook his head.

If the crystal ball could show anything at all, it meant it was working fine.

The image disappearing, Harold figured, was likely because the result of this reading was somehow connected to him.

After so many Divination lessons, he had gained some experience.

He did have a certain gift for it—but he couldn't see anything that involved himself.

For example, if he tried to look into Harry's end-of-year exam results, the ball would show a report card: five A's, one E, one O, and one T.

O in Defense Against the Dark Arts, T in Potions. Seemed very plausible—probably accurate.

But if Harold tried to see his own grades, nothing would appear.

And whenever someone else's reading happened to include him, the image would vanish just like before—exactly what happened this time.

Could it be that the Ministry had discovered something about him…? No, probably not.

Harold furrowed his brow, then quickly shook his head, dismissing the thought.

He had anticipated something like this the moment he got his hands on the Dementor and had taken precautions in advance. He just hadn't expected the Ministry to make such a big show of it.

Thankfully, ever since returning from Hogsmeade a few days ago, he had hidden the Dementor in a very safe place… the Room of Requirement on the eighth floor.

His plan was to wait for things to blow over before taking it out again—he just hadn't expected the Ministry to take it this seriously.

Still, it didn't matter. The room where he hid the Dementor was created with a long, complicated set of requests—it would be nearly impossible to find.

Even if the Ministry had some method of tracking Dementors, they couldn't possibly link it to him.

At worst, he'd lose a Dementor. That was all.

As for the vision disappearing—Harold figured it was because he'd be standing right next to Harry when it happened. Totally normal, given that they were both Hogwarts students.

But Harry looked even more disappointed after hearing Harold's explanation. Compared to all the logical reasons Harold gave, he would've preferred a comforting, made-up prophecy—something like: "You won't run into any Dementors," or "You definitely won't faint."

"All right," Harold said with a small smile, as if reading Harry's thoughts. "I'll say it—there's no way you're going to faint this time."

"Really?"

"Of course. We didn't even need Divination for that one," Harold said. "Don't forget—this is Hogwarts Castle, not the Hogwarts Express.

"Dumbledore and the professors will definitely be around that day. If a Dementor actually manages to suck out your soul right under their noses, Dumbledore might as well resign on the spot and go open a bar."

Oh, right—Dumbledore!

Only now did Harry realize the headmaster would be there this time. The anxiety weighing on him lifted, and he even had the energy to tease Harold about what he just said.

"Why would Professor Dumbledore open a bar after resigning?"

"Family business… assuming he finds a partner," Harold said nonchalantly.

"Or he could just find some deserted place—a tower far away from people."

"What kind of place is that?"

"Who knows? Maybe the Astronomy Tower."

…

(End of Chapter)