Chapter 197: "Aftermath and Quidditch Storm"

The morning after the Halloween attack, Harry woke feeling refreshed, the adrenaline of the previous night's events having worn off. As he made his way to the Great Hall for breakfast, he couldn't help but notice the awed looks and hushed whispers that followed him. The attention was even more intense than after his Under-17 Dueling Championship victory or his apprenticeship announcement.

Students from all houses craned their necks to catch a glimpse of him, and conversations hushed as he passed by. Harry understood the reason behind the increased interest – standing one's ground against three of Voldemort's most feared Death Eaters was no small feat. Still, he found the extra attention uncomfortable. It could potentially interfere with his future covert activities, as people would be more likely to notice and remember his movements.

As Harry tried to eat his breakfast amidst the stares, he couldn't help but overhear snippets of conversations around him.

"Did you hear? He fought off all three Lestranges single-handedly!"

"I heard he used wandless magic to protect the other students!"

"Do you think he'll teach us some of those spells?"

Harry sighed inwardly, knowing that the rumors would only grow more exaggerated with time. He was considering leaving early when Professor McGonagall approached him.

"Mr. Potter," she said, her voice low to avoid drawing more attention, "the Aurors are here. They'd like to speak with you about last night's incident."

Harry nodded and followed her out of the Great Hall. As they walked through the corridors, McGonagall informed him of the new security measures.

"The Ministry has added extra protection to Hogwarts," she explained, her Scottish brogue more pronounced in her evident displeasure. "Aurors will now be patrolling the corridors at night, in addition to the Dementors guarding the perimeter."

Harry could sense McGonagall's displeasure at this intrusion into Hogwarts' affairs. For his part, Harry was indifferent to the change – it wouldn't affect his plans. More interestingly, the fact that Aurors were now permitted inside Hogwarts suggested that Dumbledore's influence was waning. Harry couldn't help but feel satisfied at this development.

Upon entering the Headmaster's office, Harry was greeted by a contingent of Aurors. While Sirius was absent, Amelia Bones herself had come to lead the investigation. James Potter, Mad-Eye Moody, and several other Aurors Harry recognized from their visits to Bones Manor were also present. Dumbledore sat behind his desk, his usual twinkling eyes serious as he observed the proceedings.

Amelia immediately embraced Harry, her usual professional demeanor momentarily set aside as she checked him for injuries. "I'm so relieved you're safe, Harry," she said, her voice filled with pride. "What you did last night was incredibly brave."

Harry downplayed his actions, conscious of the watching Aurors and Dumbledore. "The Death Eaters were using unfamiliar wands, which slowed their casting. It made it easier to handle them, even outnumbered."

Mad-Eye grunted from the side, his magical eye swiveling to focus on Harry. "Even so, holding off three Death Eaters while protecting other students is no small feat for someone your age. You've got good instincts, Potter."

After Harry modestly accepted the praise, the Aurors asked him to recount the events of the previous night. He provided a detailed account, carefully omitting any mention of the Marauder's Map or his prior knowledge of the attack. He ended with a suggestion, "I managed to hit them with some nasty curses. They might need healing – that could be a lead to follow."

Amelia nodded, making a note on a piece of parchment. "We'll look into that, thank you. Your insight could be valuable in tracking them down."

Mad-Eye then asked if Harry had any ideas for patrolling Hogwarts, mentioning that Sirius had praised Harry's strategic thinking.

Harry thought for a moment before responding "You could station people at the secret entrances to Hogwarts." He turned to James, who had been standing quietly throughout the interview. "Mr. Potter should know the passages Pettigrew might use to enter the castle. Guarding those might at least keep out the Lestranges, even if the rat is harder to stop."

James looked surprised at being addressed directly, but nodded in agreement. "That's... actually a good idea. I'll work with the team to identify and secure those passages."

After some further discussion, Harry was excused. As he was leaving, James stopped him, his hand hovering uncertainly as if he wanted to place it on Harry's shoulder but thought better of it.

"Harry," he said, his voice filled with genuine gratitude, "thank you for saving Charles's life."

Harry brushed off the thanks, maintaining his emotional distance. "I was just protecting students from Death Eaters. I would have confronted them regardless of who their target was." Without waiting for a response, Harry left, feeling the familiar urge to distance himself from the elder Potters.

In the days that followed, the castle gradually returned to normal. The presence of patrolling Aurors seemed to be effective, as Harry saw no sign of Death Eaters on the Marauder's Map – except, of course, for Snape.

As the fear of intruders began to fade, excitement for the upcoming Quidditch match between Hufflepuff and Gryffindor took center stage. Harry was grateful for the shift in attention away from him and towards the sport, though he still caught people watching him in the corridors and common room.

The morning of the match arrived, bringing with it a palpable excitement that seemed to push aside the gloom of the recent attack. Harry made his way to the Quidditch pitch with his friends, noting the unusually large crowd. He was not here for the match but for the trouble that was due to follow during it. He had his wand at the ready and his mind focused, prepared for the Dementors he knew would make an appearance.

It was supposed to be Gryffindor vs Slytherin as usual, but the weather today was bad with heavy rains and wind. Marcus Flint had played his tricks and changed the match to Gryffindor and Hufflepuff. The Slytherins clearly didn't want to play in this weather.

"Everyone's eager to see Charles Potter's new Firebolt in action," Roger explained as they found seats in the stands, huddling under umbrellas to shield themselves from the rain. "We want to know how he flies with it to prepare strategies against it."

Harry nodded, his eyes scanning the sky. It looked like the Potters were really spoiling Charles. Maybe the broom was to ensure Charles finally showed his potential on the field and that the Gryffindor house would forgive him for his actions in the previous years. Well, it was working well for now since Charles and the Firebolt were getting the loudest cheers from the Gryffindor stands.

As the teams took to the air, Harry's eyes were drawn to his brother. The weather was bad and the visibility low, but Harry with his heightened sight and senses was able to follow everything that was happening.

Charles, playing Chaser, moved with a grace and speed that was truly impressive. The Firebolt responded to his slightest touch, allowing him to weave through the Hufflepuff defense with ease.

The match was not great. With the winds and low visibility, the players were having difficulty keeping on their brooms, much less scoring goals.

But the teams were adapting slowly as the game went on. Charles, with his superior broom, was handling the weather better. He scored goal after goal, putting his team firmly in the lead. The red and gold section of the stands was in a constant state of celebration, their cheers barely audible over the howling wind.

Harry turned his attention to Susan, who was among the Hufflepuff chasers. She was playing really well, but since she was on a Nimbus and not a Firebolt, she was no match for Charles. Harry remembered that Sirius and Amelia thought she was too young to handle a Firebolt. Even though Susan had played with Harry's Firebolt during the summer, they hadn't gotten her one of her own.

As the game went on and the weather worsened, the crowd was slowly losing sight of the players high in the dark clouds. Suddenly, there was an unnatural chill in the air – the telltale signs of Dementors approaching. Harry reached for his wand, scanning the sky intently.

The weather made it difficult to spot the Dementors, but Harry was able to see the players on their brooms. He could see Charles faltering, signs that he was affected by the Dementors although Harry couldn't see one near Charles. Harry searched for the Dementors, not wanting to interfere in the game without the situation becoming too dangerous. No one had seen the Dementors yet; Harry just knew from the signs.

Before Harry could spot the Dementors, however, he saw Cedric zooming up and catching the golden snitch. The match had ended.

"Hufflepuff wins!" came the announcement. The Hufflepuff stands erupted in cheers, their joy piercing through the gloomy weather.

But the celebration was short-lived. Suddenly, a wave of black-cloaked figures swept onto the pitch.

"Dementors!" someone screamed, and panic exploded through the stands.

The creatures descended in a terrifying swarm, their rattling breaths audible even over the howling wind. The temperature plummeted and all around students were crying out in fear, some collapsing as the Dementors' influence overwhelmed them.

The intensity of the Dementor invasion was higher than what Harry remembered from the books. In the books, only the canon Harry was severely affected by the Dementors. Here, the impact seemed more widespread and devastating.

On the pitch, chaos reigned. Players struggled to control their brooms in the sudden, bone-chilling cold. Harry's eyes darted to Charles, who was visibly faltering, his movements becoming erratic. A Dementor glided towards him, skeletal hands outstretched.

Without hesitation, Harry leapt to his feet, wand raised. "Expecto Patronum!" he roared. The silver Thunderbird erupted from his wand, its wingspan massive and radiant even in the gloom. It soared towards Charles, interposing itself between him and the Dementor.

But the danger was far from over. More Dementors were flooding the pitch, circling players and diving into the stands. Harry saw Cedric, still clutching the Snitch, nearly unseated as a Dementor swooped past him.

Harry's Patronus wheeled in the air, diving and striking at the Dementors. Other silvery shapes joined it - a cat from McGonagall, a phoenix from Dumbledore - as the professors fought back. But the Dementors kept coming, drawn by the fear and excitement of the crowd.

Through the chaos, Harry saw Charles lose his grip on his broom. As if in slow motion, he saw his brother fall. A scream of "Charles!" cut through the din - Lily Potter, her wand out, slowing her son's descent.

The Firebolt hovered in its place, the advanced broom not going out of control and zooming into the Whomping Willow like the broom in the books Harry remembered.

Dumbledore's voice boomed across the stadium, magnified and terrible in its fury. The intensity of his Patronus increased, and Harry too put more power into his Patronus. Gradually, the combined efforts of Harry, Dumbledore, and the other professors drove the Dementors back. As the last of the dark creatures fled, an eerie silence fell over the stadium, broken only by the sound of rain and the occasional sob from the stands.

Dumbledore was visibly furious with what had happened. The crowd could feel his anger from far away, his magical aura palpable even through the rain and wind.

As the stadium cleared and the teams were escorted back to the castle, Harry had no idea what would happen next. The Dementor invasion had been too fierce. Many were affected by their presence and would need time to recover from this experience. Harry hoped that the parents could convince the Minister to remove the Dementors from Hogwarts. This incident had proven just how dangerous their presence truly was.

As Harry made his way back to the castle, his mind raced with the implications of what had just occurred. The timeline was shifting dramatically, with familiar events becoming more intense and dangerous than he remembered. This deviation served as a stark reminder that his knowledge of the future was becoming less reliable. Harry realized he needed to be more vigilant than ever, preparing for the unexpected and adapting his strategies on the fly.