Chapter: 32

A/n: Thanks for those of you who reviewed last chapter

Chapter Thirty Two: As You Fade to Black

Crouching down low, Harry could feel his pulse quicken as they came to a stop in front of the towering height of the front gate. Behind him, his army was following, on edge and just as excited as he was. With his Seer, he reached out and made certain there were no stranglers or frightened wizards paralyzed in terror. There were none. Hopefully Voldemort’s group held no outliers.

Behind him, he led werewolves, assassins, students, and official Death Eaters. Voldemort led the same groups, werewolves excluded. While Harry was approaching Azkaban from the front, Voldemort had the back of the prison.

The Ministry would be arriving; he had no doubt about that. Along with the Order, the Aurors, and the Unspeakables. It was going to be a fun night tonight. Behind him, he was conscious of Keiran and Draco hovering. Sirius was standing next to Regulus, unconscious to the fact it was actually his brother under the face scarf. It was amusing to watch their interaction, no matter how brief.

“Do you feel them?” Draco breathed; his eyes bright through the Death Eater mask he wore. “Dementors.” A shiver ran through the group behind Harry and murmurs grew louder as a solid shadow approached them from the prison’s gates.

They had just crossed the rocky cliffs and now stood behind the solid silver gates of Azkaban. The sign above them groaned and screeched, creating an eerie symphony along side of the heavy waves shattering against the cliff’s sides. The salt water sprayed their skin, confusing them with the slight drizzle coming from the heavy black clouds from above. Azkaban’s rocky island was not especially beautiful to look at, if not dreary, but it was the perfect setting for a change in history.

Harry curled his hand around the bar to the gate gazing up at the crooked and stone prison. His father was locked inside one of those cells, probably insane with the population of dementors circulating the floor of his holding cell. He would probably have to relive Narcissa’s last moments over and over again, watching as she struggled through her last breath. As much as Harry was angry at his father for choosing Draco as the Malfoy heir, he knew, without a doubt, that Lucius had suffered enough by staying here.

Green eyes darkened as they stared at the prison and the dementors floating in circles in the front entrance. They weren’t aware of them. Yet.

As soon as Harry tackled the dementors, he was to signal Voldemort the ok to enter the prison. The Dark Lord would then enter with his army and go to the upper levels of the prison to free the Death Eaters that were being held captive. And hopefully the werewolves. Voldemort hadn’t been able to find out where they kept the werewolves from his spies in the Ministry. It was a heavy guarded secret.

One that Harry hoped he could crack quickly as he entered the prison.

Closing his eyes briefly, Harry reached out with his Seer to tickle the dementors. They flinched away from the contact as if burned. Frowning, Harry realized his Seer was far too emotional for the dementors to handle. Which made him realize that he could chase them away from Azkaban with warm feelings. Feeling himself smirk, Harry bowed his forehead against the cool bars and focused on channeling his Seer to the population of dementors.

He was getting better of focusing on just one group of his prey and not everyone in proximity. Dementors had a similar aura and light… they were all somewhat linked together. He followed the dark link and sent jolts of happiness and joy throughout the creatures. Immediately, he could feel them shrivel and jerk under his control. Breathing heavily, Harry opened his eyes, watching as a few dementors escaped the prison and shoot away from the prison and away from his hold.

It wasn’t long before the other dementors followed the others, escaping the prison’s dark walls. “Bloody brilliant,” Draco breathed behind him, watching the dark swarm of dementors trail a stain across the sky.

As soon as the dementors started leaking out of Azkaban, a shrilling alarm rang through the island. Red lights flashed, periodically, signaling of their break in. Harry winced. He hadn’t meant to set off an alarm.

Raising his wand in the air, he murmured, “Morsmordre.” The acid green skull and serpent tainted the sky after the dementors, the signal for Voldemort to continue forward.

“At the ready,” Harry straightened up, barking out his order to his army. The wizards and witches stiffened, their wands at the ready. With his magic, Harry pushed the gates apart, creating a gateway for their entrance.

As predicted, Aurors and Unspeakables apparated in front of them at the gate. Considering they were part of the Ministry, they had the right to go past the anti-apparation wards. The Order, on the other hand, would be arriving later on, hopefully.

Harry was amazed at the sheer size of the Aurors and Unspeakables. He knew they were a threat, but he never knew they were this… successful in gathering followers. Unspeakables stared out at them underneath deep grey hoods, the Ministry logo planted firmly on their breast. They were sure to have tricks up their sleeves, ones that even Harry would be wary of. They were brilliant witches and wizards, usually staying out of the war.

The Aurors were clad in navy blue, their faces proudly displayed. Harry felt his sneer take place as he met Mad Eye Moody and Shaklebolt… and none other than Rufus Scrimgeour. “My…my…” Harry drawled sweetly under his hood. “If it isn’t the Minister himself. On the battlefield.” Despite his taunting, he knew Rufus Scrimgeour was a notorious fighter. “You’re not afraid of losing your position as Minister by getting hurt?”

“Speaking of getting hurt, I’m surprised you’re back for another round.” Rufus frowned, his shoulders proud and his chin up high. “You look awfully short for the Dark Lord. Yet you lead his people.” Harry grimaced.

At the moment, they were unaware of Voldemort and his army in Azkaban. But Harry knew they weren’t stupid, they would soon find out their precious prison was being broke into. “His people, yes.” Harry agreed, stalling as long as possible. “But mine as well.”

He surveyed the army in front of him. He could feel their excitement and trepidation. But there were also a few that weren’t carrying any emotions at all, and Harry knew, that under those grey hoods of the Unspeakables, were the vampire assassins. Interesting. “Oh?” Rufus’ eyebrows went up in mock interest. “And will I have the pleasure to know of my enemy’s identity, one powerful enough to earn the respect of the notorious Dark Lord?”

“Flattery will get you no where, Minister.” Harry smiled, lowering his hood. “But you already know me.”

Rufus gave a slight wide-eyed expression, but otherwise, looked oddly composed. That could be for a number of reasons. The Minister could have had his own suspicions, Dumbledore could have told him, or the assassins could have confided in him. Either way, Harry wasn’t too disappointed from the lack of reaction.

“Harrison Malfoy,” Rufus held his wand more firmly.

“There are more wizards inside, Minister!” Harry sneered at the wizard in the back of the group, pointing up toward the windows of Azkaban. Harry glanced at the windows, seeing flashes of green and red lights as the Death Eater’s broke open the cell doors.

Harry took the first step forward, raising his wand quickly. He was decent with nonverbal spells and wandless magic, able to force his raw magic to do his bidding- but that grew tiring after awhile. Nonverbal would be his course of action tonight, along with his Seer.

Spells were thrown at him with his advance and he placed a dome shield in front of him, deflecting most the curses. The hexes that went past his shield were easy enough to dodge quickly. Pushing himself through his shield, he attacked with the offensive. Waving his wand about him in quick slashes, he took a couple of Aurors down with the Avada Kedavra. He felt no sympathy for their fallen corpses and continued to advance further.

Around him, he saw Keiran’s assassin’s move in a blur, attacking the vampire’s Harry knew to be Akira’s men under the grey cloaks. The werewolves weren’t any slower as they rushed forward, bloodlust shinning maliciously in their eyes. Their canines were out, anxious to feel the skin mold around their teeth, tasting the life blood of their enemies.

The students, Harry noticed, tended to stay behind him, using him as a sort of shield. But nonetheless, they fought. Voldemort’s Death Eaters took the opposite role of the children and placed themselves in front of Harry.

With the mixture of sweat, rain, and sea water, Harry’s hair curled in his face as he struggled to make his way deeper toward the prison. Aurors ran inside the prison, eager to take down Voldemort and his army. Sirius was all but breathing down Harry’s neck, his emotions full of anxiety of finding Remus.

Up ahead, as they came close to the entrance of the prison, Harry saw Voldemort’s men rush down the stairs, prisoners at their shoulders. The Azkaban prisoner’s faces expressed the glee of being free and their bare feet revealed how cold they were. “They’re not here,” a hissing voice addressed Harry through the crowd.

Turning, he met crimson eyes. “The werewolves?” Harry inquired softly, feeling Sirius shudder mentally behind him. “But-,”

Before he could conclude his train of thought, the whole island seemed to shudder. Sirius gave a shocked breath, holding on to Harry for balance. The smaller wizard could barely stand up himself and used the rocky wall for support. Turning quickly, he noticed the source of the explosion. The Unspeakables were throwing small fist sized balls at the Death Eaters, creating an explosion.

“We have our men, Harrison,” Voldemort hissed out, narrowing his eyes at the Unspeakables. “We need to retreat. The students are not prepared for war as we would have liked.” The students in question were herded together, their Death Eater masks heavy and almost too big on their faces. They looked inexperienced, frightened. And the Aurors pounced at that.

Lord Voldemort stepped out the prison, outside, drawing attention from both enemies and allies alike. Harry withheld a smirk. Tom would have that affect on people. He drew the energy to him like months to light. His tall and thin frame was a stark contrast from the shorter and stockier wizards. And that wasn’t mentioning his alluring and powerful aura.

Harry rolled his eyes upward as Voldemort cackled in glee, slaughtering the enemies in his way.

They had planned to have a boat circle the island, full of Death Eaters ready to take them toward the middle of the sea where the anti-apparation wards were dropped. Granted, it was a small boat, but a magical one, fitting an unlimited amount of wizards… even if it was a small army. Now all they had to do was make it to the boat…

Just as he was about to follow Voldemort, a hand grabbed his arm, holding him back. “Please Harrison, please,” Sirius breathed heavily in his ear. “Please. I know he’s here.”

Voldemort hesitated, glancing over his shoulder when he realized Harry wasn’t by his side. “I’ll meet up with you,” Harry motioned with his chin for Voldemort to continue on. “Try to get the students out of here. Alive.” He added, seeing the snarky grin the man was sporting. Voldemort was on a high right now. Nothing could faze him but the excitement of the kill.

Turning away from the Dark Lord, Harry pushed himself and Sirius deeper in the prison. They brushed past the prisoner’s running barefoot out the prison, excited expressions on their faces. Harry didn’t see his father, but he could have escaped when he wasn’t looking. “Protect me,” Harry ordered Sirius sharply, closing his eyes at the same time. He leaned his back against a cold crook in the stone, breathing in deeply.

His Seer sparked and tasted the environment around him. Immediately, he was assaulted with pain, fright, excitement, anger… insanity. Harry’s knees buckled as he leaned more heavily against the wall. Sweat beaded the skin above his brow and his small frame shook with the assault of powerful emotions. He had never opened his Seer up fully like this, with a situation like this.

But it was necessary if he wanted to pinpoint hidden werewolves.

Werewolves’ auras were different from humans. They were wild, they were untamed. Slowly, he blocked out the humans’ and vampires’ emotions and auras and focused on the werewolves. He could feel the werewolves outside, their bloodlust and excitement… their strong link to one another through the pack bond. But there was another group he could feel… and they were coming from directly under his feet.

Gathering his strength, he stood up fully, snapping back to his body. Sirius was standing agitatedly next to him, his wand out and ready. “The werewolves are underground.”

Dark navy eyes crinkled. “There is no basement to Azkaban.”

“Exactly my thoughts,” Harry replied bitterly, glancing around the corner at the battle raging out front. “Get Greyback, hurry.” Without a word, his cousin ran through the front doors of Azkaban, searching out for the Alpha werewolf.

Harry’s knees shook, making him realize that allowing his Seer complete control was both physically and emotionally tiring. But when he remembered Matthew, the eleven year old boy who had expressed his determination to get his mother back, Harry would stop at nothing to resurrect that mother-son bond. Down there, Harry assumed there was a blond mother, yearning to hold her beautiful child once more.

Teeth snapped in front of him, snapping him out of his thoughts and spraying blood of the enemy across his face. “What is it?” Greyback growled, huffing. Harry eyed the blood smeared across the werewolf’s face in disinterest. Behind the half naked werewolf, Sirius was grimacing deeply at the image.

“I need you to sniff out the entrance to the underground. Werewolves are being locked down below and you can sniff them out.”

Greyback, batting his eyelashes down at Harry, scoffed. “You expect me to leave my pack alone in battle?”

Crossing his arms over his chest, Harry raised his eyebrows. “You have a beta, do you not?” Greyback’s eyes flashed and his crimson stained teeth bore in a grimace. “Now is the time to test his worth. And in the meantime, you can help rescue potential pack members.” Finally getting a pair of pants, Harry was met with the rock hard muscle of Greyback’s sweaty torso, thankfully nothing lower.

“Fine,” Greyback growled again, pushing Sirius aside. The Black stumbled, giving off a shocked yell at the action. Harry ignored them, tapping his foot slightly in impatience as Greyback took deep intakes of breath, smelling. His Seer was pulling at his subconscious, telling him the werewolves down below were unhealthy, sickly, and frightened… yet hopeful. They could probably hear the alarms going off and the smell of blood and gore.

Lupin was down there. And Sirius would finally shut up.

Fenrir’s large shoulders tensed and contracted as he prowled down a sharp corridor. Harry threw a look at Sirius, who glanced at him in turn. The older wizard took off after Fenrir after a look from Harry.

Following at a much slower pace, Harry glided down the corridor, ignoring the cell doors on either side of him. Azkaban was like a maze. An iron clad maze. There was the main lobby, the entrance to the prison, full of dust, dirt, and brick. After the main lobby, it branched off in several different directions. Each aisle of holding cells was tiny, barely big enough for Fenrir to freely squeeze through. Hands could touch the werewolf’s shoulders from the prison cells, causing Fenrir to pause in his search and snarl loudly at the prisoners.

Harry took this in stride, amazed that there were five floors of this… just this aisle alone had hundreds upon hundreds of cells. He wondered how Voldemort and his Death Eaters got the locked servants out as fast as they did.

“Help us… please…” a woman moaned as they passed her cell.

“I’m a Death Eater, take me out, please.” Another one begged, reaching out his dirt filled hands. His eyes were glossy as they stared up at Harry.

“You’re better off dead,” Harry informed the insane inmate. “You’d never survive out in the world…” He swept quickly past, eyeing Greyback’s bulky form in front of him.

The Alpha sniffed, pausing near the center of the corridor. The floor they were standing upon was soaked with water. “Here,” Greyback barked, opening a cell door. Surprisingly enough, there was no prisoner inside. Instead, it was empty. Looking closer, Harry could see the raw indentation in the stone wall.

Stepping past Fenrir, Harry reached out, his fingers coming in contact with the cold stone. He could feel their emotions. So strong. So desperate for help. For release. “They’re here… the passage way is here. Help me open it. There must be a trigger somewhere.” Harry patted the stone, hoping beyond hope that it didn’t need a password to open. Fenrir and Sirius looked at one another outside the cell and pushed at each other to get inside.

Of course Greyback was the bigger of the two and easily knocked Sirius out of the way. Harry’s cousin went stumbling in a whirlwind inside the cell, falling heavily on his arse. And with contact with the floor, the stones rumbled and slowly opened.

Harry blinked, throwing both the two men behind him a look. They looked innocently back at him, glancing at the passage way behind him. Turning back around, Harry flicked his wand in the air, lighting it. He refused to even think on the proceedings that had just transpired. Pure luck.

The stone steps leading down were narrow and small. He was sure Greyback would be stumbling down them. With that in mind, Harry hurried down, not wanting to be crushed underneath a rolling Alpha werewolf.

Once he stepped off the last step, he stared in amazement at the sight before him. Behind him, he was subconsciously aware of Sirius shouting in shock and Greyback knocking them down the rest of the steps. Not sparing the two a glace, Harry’s attention was on the dingy basement. The cells were bigger than the ones upstairs, but they were made of pure silver.

“Merlin,” Harry whispered, feeling the pain of the werewolves, the fright.

They howled and whispered to him, pleading and crying. Their amber eyes seemed to reflect off his wand light, giving the eerie picture an even more desolate look. “Bloody hell,” Sirius moaned behind him, with both pain of Greyback knocking him over and the sight before him. “Remus?” He ventured off, his voice similar to a lost little boy.

“Sirius, Harrison…” a dry and hoarse voice cried out further down the aisle of cells.

Sirius gave a shocked breath, lighting his own wand and running down the wet path. His shoes were splattering the ankle deep water, giving the underground atmosphere uncanny echoes.

The werewolves all inched closer to the bars of their cages, pleading with Harry to let them go. “Hush now,” Harry started, beginning to open the cell doors. “You’ll all be out of here.” Fenrir was a breathing beast down his neck, gazing at the werewolves with an unreadable expression on his face. The man’s amber eyes then turned to Harry, watching him closely as he helped the stumbling werewolves out of the cell.

Harry ignored the Alpha’s stare, grateful that Sirius was helping further down. “Thank you, thank you.” One of the men moaned up at Harry, touching his grimy hands to Harry’s face. Harry gave a nod, feeling overwhelmed with all the emotions of overpowering appreciation and gratitude. He tried not to look too long in the cells, for he was revolted by the conditions they lived in… for Merlin knew how long.

Tears and murmurs of thanks spread through the corridor, giving Harry a headache. He wasn’t used to…saving people like this.

“Quiet,” Fenrir barked throughout the small corridor, causing his roar to echo. Immediately, the werewolves all simpered and listened to the commanding voice. “Do you hear that?” Fenrir murmured to Harry, looking up at the underground ceiling.

Everyone became tense as they heard the familiar sound of running footsteps. Harry focused on the sound, noticing it was coming closer. The Ministry knew they were down here. The werewolves all became hysterical again, creating a wave of noise.

“Quiet,” Harry shouted, throwing his wand arm straight up. The affect was just as successful as Fenrir’s order. The occupants all stopped, staring at him in awe as they felt his magic peak. Considering they were werewolves, his Seer also affected them, making them feel the urge to grovel and rub against him. “Is everyone out of the cells?”

“Yes, My Lord,” a man spoke up deeply, bowing his head.

“Good,” Harry started, not giving them enough time to start speaking again. “Listen closely. There is a large boat circling the island. On this boat are Death Eaters and werewolves… and vampires. They are not your enemies. Try your hardest to swim toward the boat, you hear me?”

“Swim?” One of them whispered uncertainly.

“Of course, swim.” Harry replied, turning to Greyback. “We are under water right now. There is no chance we can make it out through the main level. We’ll have to spell our way through the walls and into the sea.”

“Sirius,” Harry drew attention toward the man who was currently embracing Lupin. “I need you to help me cast the Bubble-Head charm on everyone. Quickly.” Casting his wand, he nonverbally placed the bubble charm on Greyback. The man gave him a glower, looking rather amusing with a bubble across his face. “You’ll thank me later,” Harry snapped back, withholding his chuckle.

Harry began to hurriedly cast the spell on as many werewolves as he could. The footsteps grew louder and closer, becoming more urgent. “That’s all of them, Harry.” Sirius breathed, frowning.

Pushing past the werewolves, Harry made his way to the back of the corridor of holding cells and focused on the wall in front of him. There were already leaks in the wall, causing water to drip from between the stones. Feeling his magic rise, Harry gave a grunt, thrashing his wand across his body. The stone wall erupted, creating a large tunnel to the outside sea. “Hurry, hurry,” Harry shouted, his knees already submerged in the rushing water.

The closest werewolves crawled and swam their way in the tunnel. The tunnel itself wasn’t very long, only a few meters. “Remember, find the boat.” Greyback stood next to Harry, refusing to be one of the first one’s out. The remanding werewolves all scrambled to the exit of the tunnel, pushing through the onslaught of water and swimming to the other side.

By now, the cool water was chest deep on Harry. Because he was the shortest one in the bunch, it only reached other’s stomachs. “Go Sirius,” Harry urged as the wizard seemed to hesitate about going through.

Sirius shook his head, pushing at Lupin. The werewolf nodded, going through the tunnel. Harry gave a strangled breath, the water at his chin. It was cold and salty, causing his mouth to curl. A hand clutched at the cloth around his back and hauled him further up out of the water. Green eyes glanced at Greyback, giving the man a look. Before he could say anything, he heard shouts coming from the staircase.

The Unspeakables and Aurors came stumbling down the stairs, assessing the situation. They didn’t take long to react and Harry threw on his own Bubble-Head charm, sinking out of Greyback’s hold and into the water depths. He pushed at Sirius’ legs, urging him through the tunnel. The wizard hesitated but with a pinch from Harry, he continued forward. Only Greyback and Harry were left.

Harry reached out and grabbed Greyback’s hand, pulling the werewolf underwater. The Alpha werewolf grumbled, tugging Harry’s arm in his own hold, pushing him through the tunnel. Harry knew, Greyback’s character wouldn’t allow to put himself in front of people he considered his ‘pack’. For some strange reason, the werewolf thought Harry as a member.

Swimming through the tunnel, Harry was aware of the Ministry members on their tail.

Finally out of the tunnel and into the wide open sea, Harry whirled around; his wand pointed directly at the tunnel Greyback was currently exiting.

He had just saved a whole lot of werewolves.

Now it was time to balance out the good with a little fun.

The first head through the tunnel was immediately beheaded.

--SSC--

Voldemort inhaled, narrowing his eyes at the outstretch of sea. He was standing upon the boat, the surviving army all secure and ready to leave the island. The Azkaban prisoners were all accounted for and their casualty was nothing to cause a deep dent.

But the missing…

He sneered, his gaze diverting toward the prison. Harrison had yet to come, the same for Black and Greyback. But the latter two weren’t worth his worry. Harrison shouldn’t even be worth his agitation. He knew his Match was quite able to handle himself in the battle. But what was taking him so long? There were no werewolves in Azkaban. Snape must have gotten his story wrong, once again. And Black was too sentimental to come to terms with the fact that his lover, Lupin, wasn’t in the building. And he had to drag his Match on a useless and suicidal search.

“Master,” a Death Eater went down on his knees. “The Unspeakables and Aurors have yet to come after us on boats, but it’s only time before they do. And they’ll stop us before we reach the anti-apparation wards. We have all the prisoners, would you like to continue forward?”

Without looking at the Death Eater, Voldemort placed his wand in between the fool’s eyes. He could feel the servant tense considerably. “We do not leave behind our Lord, boy. Lord Malfoy has yet to grace us with our presence.” Pushing his wand harder into the boy’s sensitive skull, he raised his voice for the curious onlookers. “We do not leave without him.”

“My Lord! Look!” Voldemort whirled around, ready to curse the speaker to a painful torture for interrupting him, but remained tightlipped as he witnessed a few heads breaking the water. “Werewolves… they’re werewolves. Where did they come from?”

Most the army was below in the magical expanded area, and luckily the vampires were attended for beneath the deck. He didn’t have the patience to deal with the hisses and growls between the two animals.

“Do stand there,” Voldemort spat at the Death Eater. “Pull them up.” The cloaked Death Eaters all scrambled to the edge of the boat and leaned down to help up the out of breath werewolves. Water dripped all over the deck and a few members from the level below poked their heads up to see the commotion. Meddlesome bastards.

Speaking of bastards… that little minx…

He felt his lip curl into a smirk as he surveyed all the werewolves approaching the boat. Harrison had done this. He had gathered more followers, he did the impossible. As much as he wanted to strangle the minx for putting himself in unnecessary danger, in order to save a few werewolves, he found himself impressed.

It took a while to get all the werewolves dried and on deck, but eventually, Voldemort found himself standing, waiting. Again. “Where is he?” he rounded on Black and Lupin. Black cowered away from him, looking uncertainly in the water.

“I thought he was just behind me… Greyback and he were the last two out. By that time, the Unspeakables and Aurors were on our tail.” Voldemort hissed at him and the wizard paled sickly in fear.

Crimson eyes turned away fro Black, locking with shielded yellow. He gave another sneer at the Hand of the Assassin Guild and turned his back on the brooding figure. If Harrison didn’t come back within a few minutes, he would take out his anger on that bloody vampire. Already, he felt his fingers itch near his wand.

“Another one,” a Death Eater murmured, bringing attention toward the edge of the boat. “Black hair, looks like Lord Malfoy.” Being the willing servant he was, he leaned down to help the body up. “Agh!” The Death Eater screamed, holding up only a head. He flung the bodiless head across the deck, causing others to rear away, looking at the head in horror.

Voldemort felt something coil in his stomach as he strode toward the black haired head. If that were Harrison…

Leaning down, he gently turned the head around, locking eyes with surprised blue. “Fool,” Voldemort sneered. “This is not Lord Malfoy.” He took the head in his hand and chucked it at the Death Eater foolish enough to declare Harrison’s death. It made him realize just how fragile Harrison was. He didn’t have seven Horcruxes. He didn’t have a second chance if he slipped just once in battle.

Voldemort would have to remedy that.

The Death Eater he tossed the head at, stumbled and fell in the sea. Death Eaters and werewolves alike all snickered and laughed at the wizard in the water. “My Lord,” Keiran, the bloody vampire, spoke up. Turning his chilling gaze at the assassin, Voldemort raised his eyebrows expectedly. “We have just one more problem…” Keiran turned his head up toward the sky and gave a nod toward the clouds.

“Dementors are back. And we have no Seer to ward them off.”

And none of them could cast a Patronus. And those of them that could, wouldn’t be powerful enough to ward off the hundreds that were currently swarming out of the clouds towards them.