Argus waited until Harry had slipped into Hogwarts before trailing him silently. He and his counterpart from the altered timeline kept a close watch on every move the boy made. The Invisibility Cloak hid Harry from direct sight, but the Marauder's Map pinpointed his location with ruthless precision.
Harry spent the day drifting through the castle's corridors, restless and directionless. Argus could sense the boy's desperation—he wanted to rewrite the future, to stop whatever catastrophe loomed. But where to even begin? All Harry knew was that Peter would be caught, Dementors would swarm the castle, and the rat would slip away again. Beyond that, he was in the dark.
"Is he hunting for clues on Peter's escape?" Argus muttered to himself. The intent was noble, but premature. Peter wouldn't plot his getaway until after the capture. Watching Harry fumble through the crowds, dodging students and narrowly evading professors' sharp eyes, Argus felt a pang of sympathy. The kid was out of his depth.
Finally, Harry perked up at a distant commotion—the signal that Sirius, Snape, and the others had entered the Room of Requirement. He bolted toward it, but the group inside moved with purpose, vanishing into the room as if swept away by an unseen force. In the original timeline, Harry had hovered nearby under his cloak, straining to eavesdrop, but he'd been clueless about their mindset. All he could do was linger outside, frustrated.
"Looks like Harry's sidelined for now," Argus said. "Time to scout the Dementors."
He knew the debate inside that room would drag on—Sirius arguing for mercy, Snape for justice, hashing out Peter's fate. Plenty of time to investigate. Without a backward glance, Argus slipped out of the castle, weaving through the shadows toward the grounds.
The Dementors weren't clustered in Hogsmeade as expected, nor patrolling the perimeter. Instead, they loomed directly over the castle's spires, a grim silhouette against the darkening sky. It reminded Argus of the Quidditch match when they'd sent Harry plummeting—the same hovering menace, but lower, more intimate. Closer to striking.
"Makes sense," he thought. "They've chased Sirius for months. Now that he's in sight, why hold back?"
"Luckily, they stayed close. Luring them from afar would've been a nightmare."
Drawing them down wasn't hard. Dementors had glommed onto Harry before because they caught Sirius's scent on him. Argus's own trace was fresher, stronger from recent encounters. All it took was letting them sense him.
But something felt off. Peering up, Argus counted the hooded figures—far fewer than the horde he'd envisioned. Not the suffocating swarm from the pitch attack.
"This isn't right," he frowned, checking his watch. "There should be dozens more. Where are the rest?"
He Apparated to the edge of Hogsmeade in a blink, heart pounding. The missing Dementors lurked here, but they scattered at his approach—like prey fleeing a predator. No aggression, just blind retreat, as if Hogwarts itself repelled them.
"Merlin's beard," Argus whispered. Then it clicked. He'd repelled them with Patronuses multiple times before—Snape had scattered them just yesterday. Each clash had etched fear into their soulless forms. Sirius's every narrow escape? More Patronus blasts driving them back. They'd developed a phobia, associating wizards—and the castle—with silver mist and agony.
No wonder they shied from the grounds. Trauma had turned hunters into cowards.
"You can't back out now!" Argus growled, wand slipping into his hand. "If you're too spooked to approach, I'll give you a nudge. Let's see what scares you more—the mist or the castle."
"Expecto Patronum!"
A silvery fog billowed from his wand—not a full corporeal guardian, which might give him away, but the raw essence of the spell. Shapeless mist was trickier to wield, but anonymous. It unfurled like smoke, drifting toward the cluster.
The Dementors recoiled as if burned, their forms twisting in panic. No faces to read, but Argus felt their terror ripple through the air. They bolted—straight toward Hogwarts.
He exhaled sharply, relief mixing with tension. "Phase one complete. Now, herd them to the castle."
Trailing at a distance, Argus prodded with fresh bursts of mist whenever the Dementors wavered. They merged with their hovering kin above the towers, a larger shadow now coalescing. Satisfied, he ducked into a secret passage from the Marauder's Map, emerging on a high parapet. He swapped his cloak for a spare to avoid tipping off his original self.
But as he scanned the sky, doubt crept in. He'd planned to bait them with Sirius's scent from up here. Simple. Except now these creatures quailed at his mere presence—the architect of their recent nightmares.
Below, voices echoed faintly. Sirius and the group had left the Room of Requirement. They were heading for the headmaster's office soon. If the Dementors didn't breach the tower in time, the timeline would fracture. Harry would unravel the future's secrets too soon—or worse, none at all. And Argus? Trapped in paradox, erased.
His face hardened. Options raced through his mind: potions, illusions, raw magic. Then fragments of memory surfaced—the original scene. Harry sensing chill first. Dementors exploding through the roof and windows. Chill... rooftop... windows...
Harry. Peering down from a nearby ledge. Of course.
Argus had fixated on luring them himself. But why? Harry was the perfect decoy—fresh scent, no history of repelling them. Let the boy draw them in without realizing it.
A grim smile tugged at Argus's lips. Time to improvise.
---
Enjoying the story? You can read 3-5 chapters ahead right now on Patreon!
New chapters drop there much earlier than Web Novel.
Join P@treon & Read Ahead → https://[email protected]/c/Ren_Saga
Thank you for your support! ❤️