"The Dementor's Kiss," Scrimgeour whispered, the muscles in his face twitching. He clearly hadn't expected the Dementors to outright defy the Ministry's orders and attempt something like this.
At his glare, the lead Dementor let out a low, gurgling sound. It drifted forward menacingly and took a long, taunting breath right in Scrimgeour's face.
Several others circled Sirius, floating unconscious in the air. Sirius twitched, groaning in his stupor. "Don't…"
A silvery phoenix shot forward in a blaze of fury. The Dementors scattered. Behind his half-moon spectacles, Dumbledore's eyes held a cold fire Anthony had never seen before. He held his wand high, his Phoenix Patronus spreading its wings, circling Pettigrew's cell and driving every nearby Dementor back a good dozen feet.
The last Dementor fled the cell. The iron door slammed shut with a reverberating clang that echoed down the corridor. It was like pulling back a dusty curtain swarming with moths. Far more Dementors than Anthony had imagined suddenly detached from the bars, drifting upwards.
In the Patronus's silver glow, everyone could see Peter clearly. Still lying there. Vacant. Eyes half-lidded and blank. Breathing mechanically.
Anthony felt it. A deeply uncomfortable feeling. He could slip right into that empty thing on the floor. No one would ever know. He could order it to stand. To kick its leg. To roll over. All because its soul was gone. He swore he could hear the hollow thump-thump echo inside that body, like the ticking of a clock in an empty house.
Anthony looked away. His stomach twisted.
"How dare you!" Scrimgeour roared, his finger stabbing towards the dark void beneath a Dementor's hood. "This is completely unacceptable! You will be—you will be—EXPECTO PATRONUM!"
A lion leaped from his wand-tip, shook its mane, and roared. The silver light around them brightened. The Dementors drifted at the edges of the light, agitated. More and more poured from the shadows of other cells, surrounding them, but keeping a fearful distance from Dumbledore's phoenix and Scrimgeour's lion.
"Dereliction of duty!" Scrimgeour looked even more furious. "What, what is it you want?" Sweat beaded on his forehead, betraying his bravado.
They were surrounded. A solid wall of ragged black cloaks. And more seemed to be gathering. Anthony remembered hearing once that all the Dementors in the world were concentrated in Azkaban.
The lion charged into the mass of Dementors. The long corridor lit up for a few seconds, illuminating countless tattered robes, before plunging back into near-darkness.
Snape dumped Sirius onto the floor. Sirius immediately curled into a ball, hands over his head, unconscious. Snape ran his thumb over his own wand, dark eyes gleaming with something strange.
Dumbledore's beard and hair seemed to stir in a non-existent wind. His wand traced circles in the air above his head. The silver phoenix let out a clear, piercing cry and swept down the corridor. The Dementors recoiled violently.
"I will be taking Pettigrew," Dumbledore stated, his voice cold as ice, directed at the Dementors. "Open the door. Severus—"
His voice echoed through the entire level of Azkaban. The iron bars seemed to hum.
"Mm?" Snape said.
From deeper in the cell block came a burst of wild, high-pitched laughter. Anthony thought it was a Dementor at first. Then he realized it was a prisoner. From here, he could only see long-nailed fingers gripping the bars and deep-set eye sockets holding a fanatical gleam.
"Severus Snape!" the voice shrieked. "Traitors get punished, just like that one! He will return for us, on that day—"
Scrimgeour stared at the cell, aghast. Dumbledore flicked his wand. Silence fell again.
"Open the door," Dumbledore repeated, taking a step towards the Dementors.
The Dementors drifted back slightly. But the door to Pettigrew's cell remained firmly locked. The environment of Azkaban, the sheer number of them, seemed to be giving them courage. Sirius's eyes screwed shut tight. He groaned again.
"Excuse me, may I say something?" Anthony said, stepping forward. "I strongly suggest you agree to Professor Dumbledore's request."
The Dementor directly in front of him stopped. It drifted lower, turning its hood towards Anthony. More Dementors, circling above, descended.
"You really shouldn't have done that," Anthony said calmly. "Could you please open the door? Before this gets any worse."
The Dementors hesitated. Their hoods dipped slightly, a gesture that might have been assent. Anthony heard Scrimgeour's sharp intake of breath behind him. With a groan of rusted metal, the iron door swung open.
"Excellent," Anthony said. "If you're amenable, I'd also suggest you apologize to—well, everyone affected by this. It was rather frightening." He kept his gaze firmly away from Peter Pettigrew.
The Dementors seemed annoyed. Several raised their rotting hands, gesturing towards Anthony as if to explain. Dumbledore's phoenix had settled back on his shoulder, but Anthony didn't look at Dumbledore either.
"Just a suggestion," Anthony said, his voice still calm.
The Dementors let out a chorus of dissatisfied, dreadful gurgles. With so many making the sound at once, it truly felt like being stuck in some foul swamp. Anthony grimaced. Sirius's moans grew louder.
"May we leave first?" Anthony inquired politely of the nearest Dementor.
More viscous gurgling. Several Dementors drifted silently closer to Sirius, hovering uncertainly. Dumbledore's phoenix flew over, forcing them back. With one final cry, the phoenix blazed with brilliant light over Sirius… and vanished.
Darkness slammed down. Only Anthony's Lumos lit a small pocket of air.
The Dementors encircling Anthony remained still. But behind him, more seemed to be pressing in on the others. Sirius's teeth began to chatter. Anthony glanced back. Dumbledore's eyes were lowered, as if waiting. Snape's wand was raised, the Patronus Charm clearly on the tip of his tongue, but he too was watching Dumbledore and Anthony.
"Expec—" Scrimgeour began, his voice strained.
Anthony sighed.
"Expecto Patronum," he said.
Scrimgeour stopped. The Dementors stopped.
It was like a whirlwind forming in the narrow corridor. A massive bear swirled into being, its fur brushing the bars on either side, its bulk blocking the light from Anthony's wand-tip and plunging the passage into deeper shadow.
Anthony let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. Only then did the faint, sickening pull from Peter Pettigrew's body vanish. A slow, dull anger rose in its place. The delayed understanding of what the Dementors had tried to do—something so profoundly terrifying and hateful.
"That's really—" he started, a wave of nausea hitting him. He closed his eyes. The phantom texture of swallowing a soul seemed to coat his throat again.
His bear let out a deep, rumbling growl. The Dementors' gurgling cut off instantly. Anthony felt better. He opened his eyes, astonished to see the Dementors scattering wildly. It took a muffled THUMP for him to realize they were dodging a massive paw swipe from the bear.
Before he could process it, the bear was twisting its huge body down the narrow corridor, moving with impossible speed. It lunged.
Its paw, also shadow-dark, hooked the tattered robe of one Dementor. The other paw followed, a sweeping blow aimed directly at the hooded head. It slammed the Dementor into the stone floor.
In the ringing silence, Anthony's… thing… that might or might not be a Patronus, opened its jaws and clamped down on the Dementor's hood.
A sharp, crisp CRACK echoed through the prison.
The Dementor crumpled. Dissolved into a pile of black ash.
On the floor, Peter Pettigrew shuddered and let out a tiny sob. His head lolled to the side. His breath stopped. Anthony knew, without knowing how, that death had finally collected Peter's soul.
The pile of ash quivered. It drifted upwards. From hood to tattered, dangling robe, the Dementor re-formed before the bear's massive head.
The bear watched, disinterested, as it fled in panic. Then it ambled slowly back to Anthony's side. Every Dementor shrank back in clear fear. Scrimgeour gasped for air, unable to speak. Sirius had fallen silent again, still unconscious.
The bear lowered its head. Anthony met its gaze.
"Thank you," Anthony said, reaching out to touch its coarse, prickly fur. "Yes, I think we should go."
The Dementors parted in utter silence, clearing a path. Anthony flicked his wand, levitating Sirius first. Snape, without a word, took charge of Peter Pettigrew's body.
"What do you think, sir?" Anthony asked Dumbledore.
Dumbledore looked at him and said quietly, "Let us leave."
Scrimgeour lit his own Lumos, though it was hardly necessary. The Dementors guided their way out, hovering at a respectful distance. Anthony's bear lumbered behind them. Every so often, it nudged his shoulder with its huge nose, as if offering him a ride.
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