Chapter 222. Reassuring
Professor McGonagall led Harry away. Ron and Hermione exchanged a worried look and, without a word, followed after them. Adrian Wesson continued with his duties, guiding the rest of the students into the Great Hall in an orderly fashion.
He did not think much of it; Professor McGonagall had probably taken Harry to the Hospital Wing.
Because Professor Lupin had contacted McGonagall ahead of time on the train, she had likely already learnt that Harry had been attacked by Dementors.
Once the students were seated, Adrian Wesson took his place at the High Table—this time between Professor Flitwick and Dumbledore.
No sooner had he sat down than Dumbledore leaned over slightly and, lowering his voice, asked, "Professor Wesson, I hear you chased all the Dementors off the train?"
Wesson gave a slight nod. "I only ensured the students' safety."
"Oh, I'm not blaming you. In fact, you did exactly the right thing."
Dumbledore looked faintly surprised. "At all times, the students' safety is paramount. But Fudge has just written to tell me the Ministry has lost a batch of Dementors. It may take some time to retrieve them."
Wesson smiled. "They had it coming."
"Quite agreed," Dumbledore said with satisfaction, his eyes betraying clear displeasure at the Ministry's actions.
Obviously, he detested these creatures the Ministry had brought in.
"What you did—everyone knows," Professor Flitwick chimed in. "Fudge is probably livid. He sent Hogwarts several letters in one go."
Wesson shrugged.
What did Fudge's anger have to do with him?
They couldn't very well cart him off to Azkaban for this, could they?
Not that it mattered much.
Azkaban, as it stood, would be nothing more than an ordinary prison to him, because Dementors had no effect on him at all.
Just then, Wesson noticed a grimy old hat in front of Professor Flitwick.
He looked more closely and realised it was the Sorting Hat.
"That is…"
"Oh, this?" Professor Flitwick patted the brim and smiled at Wesson. "It's my turn to conduct the Sorting this year."
"Hey, easy," the Sorting Hat suddenly muttered. "I'm thinking up this year's song. You've put me off."
"Sorry," said Professor Flitwick. "I thought you were ready."
"Almost."
Before long, Professor McGonagall returned to the Great Hall with the new first-years following behind her, looking around curiously.
It looked like Harry and the others had reached the Hospital Wing as well.
"Ah, the new children," Professor Flitwick said with feeling, then hopped down from his chair with the Sorting Hat in his hands.
The Sorting Ceremony began smoothly.
Standing on a tall stool, Professor Flitwick placed the hat on each student's head one by one.
The sight was, admittedly, a little comical.
Of course, no one would laugh; Professor Flitwick was a well-respected teacher.
The Charms professor's standing at the school was beyond question.
When almost all the first-years had been Sorted, Wesson saw the doors open a crack and Harry and the others slip inside.
He relaxed a little.
If Madam Pomfrey had sent Harry back, it meant he was probably all right.
Otherwise, given Madam Pomfrey's nature, she would have insisted Harry remain there even for the tiniest injury.
At the Gryffindor table, Harry and the others took the empty seats opposite Percy.
"Neville, how far along are they?" Hermione whispered to Neville beside her.
Neville, who had been staring fixedly at the Sorting Hat, jumped at Hermione's sudden question. "Oh—nearly done. This should be the last one."
As soon as he finished, applause broke out among the Hufflepuffs—the last student had gone to Hufflepuff.
This year, Hufflepuff had once again received the most new students.
"Welcome, everyone," Dumbledore rose to speak. "The Sorting Ceremony is now concluded. Though we are all starving, as usual I have a few things to announce before we tuck in…"
At the same time, everyone noticed something else.
On the table before Dumbledore sat a very ordinary-looking wooden box.
This had never appeared before; there must be something inside.
"First, a very serious matter," Dumbledore continued, his tone turning more grave. "As you already know, they have already inspected the Hogwarts Express; in the time to come, Hogwarts will be hosting Dementors from the Ministry of Magic. They are here to carry out Ministry business."
At the house tables below, everyone began chattering.
Most people had some idea, more or less, of what Dementors were.
Only some younger students or those from the Muggle world looked confused.
"Silence!"
Dumbledore's voice carried on:
"I remind you all: for everyone, Dementors are dangerous creatures. They will be stationed at each exit of the school and will patrol the perimeter. No one is to attempt to leave the school without permission. All disguises are useless against Dementors, including Invisibility Cloaks and any magic that can render you invisible. Dementors will not heed anyone, because they do not understand."
"But some people aren't afraid of Dementors at all, are they?" Ron nudged Hermione with his elbow and lowered his voice. "Professor Wesson, for one. If he wanted, he could pop off a Dementor's head and use it as a Bludger."
Thinking of Wesson's performance on the train, Hermione couldn't help nodding.
She very much wanted to know how Wesson had done it.
Because when those Dementors came near her, her mind went blank and she could only think of terrifying things.
Harry said nothing. If he could help it, he'd never encounter a Dementor again for as long as he lived.
Dumbledore cleared his throat and continued, "To address the problem of the Dementors and further ensure your safety, Professor Wesson has provided some devices to help you."
With that, he arched his brows at Wesson.
Wesson understood at once, rose from his chair, and walked forward holding up a small black plaque.
"That's…"
Harry blinked. He recognised it—several amulets Wesson had given him before were in this very style.
"This is an amulet to ward off Dementors," Wesson explained. "Although the Ministry claims the Dementors will only operate outside the school, the behaviour of such creatures is unpredictable. Until they withdraw, I advise you to carry one on your person."
When he finished, Wesson pointed his wand at the small box before Dumbledore.
At once, the amulets inside whooshed out in a rush, landing precisely in front of each student. Gasps of amazement rippled through the Hall.
"These are engraved with runes," Hermione said, studying the amulet closely, her eyes shining. "It's exactly what we'll be learning this term. Ancient Runes is a delightful subject. Oh—Professor Wesson has carved some animal figures on the back. Wait, what animal is this?"
Ron looked dubious. "Does this thing really work? It looks like an ordinary little plaque."
Harry, however, slipped his amulet into his pocket without hesitation.
That familiar sense of reassurance surged up at once.
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