[160] Shadows Cast Long

"Hall! Let's catch the Snitch together!" Draco had gotten bored of simple racing.

Not a real Snitch — the replica that came with the recreational Quidditch set. It also came with a broomstick and a Quaffle, from the same manufacturer.

Hall looked at Draco's bright, expectant eyes. The boy had been looking forward to Quidditch all semester, only to miss it because of the Triwizard Tournament.

"Just the Snitch. Nothing else needed."

"Okay!" Draco had no objections. He'd joined the school team for the Seeker position anyway. Catching the Snitch meant victory.

A golden Snitch, smaller than a real one, flapped its wings and rose from the lawn.

"Whoever catches it first!"

Whoosh — three figures shot off. Hall, Draco, and Zabini.

Hall flew fast and steady. Draco and Zabini were neck and neck, though Draco's flight was slightly more stable.

"Aunt, your task... this is really difficult for me..." Russell followed slowly behind, watching the three figures race ahead.

Russell Rosier, sixteen, sixth-year. He should've been worrying about his exams. Beauxbatons ran their exams a year later than Hogwarts, so sixth-years took them. He hadn't been ready when he'd received orders from Vinda Rosier — practically his aunt by blood.

Go to England. Make friends with someone named Hall Weasley. If not friends, then at least get along well.

Russell didn't have the right to refuse. His family had already arranged things at Hogwarts. Transferring wasn't necessary — he could graduate in just one year. But it would coincide with the Triwizard Tournament, and the three schools had a good relationship.

The head of the family had slapped his forehead. An exchange student!

Russell Rosier would go to Hogwarts as a Beauxbatons exchange student for his final year.

All because of a second-year Slytherin.

Russell watched Hall's retreating figure. That person...

He said nothing more. His life had been disrupted, thrown into chaos. But Russell knew this was an opportunity. If he handled it well, perhaps he could—

A bone-chilling cold swept through him. He shivered involuntarily.

"What's going on?" He blinked. "Did it get cold?"

The chill seeped into his bones. A deep sense of confusion and despair flooded his heart. Happiness vanished. His body, his eyes, his limbs — going numb.

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No. This isn't right.

Russell bit his tongue, trying to snap out of it. He looked up.

Black cloaks floated in the sky, soaked through, their forms seeming fragile enough to dissolve in the wind. But they were far more solid than they looked. A gust revealed scabbed hands and rotting flesh beneath the cloaks. And most terrifying — those empty, featureless faces, just black holes.

"Dementors!" Russell screamed.

One, two, ten — a dark swarm gathered above Malfoy Manor. Impossible to count.

"Come back!" Russell shouted at Hall, Draco, and Zabini, who were flying closer to the Dementors.

Hall Weasley could not be harmed.

Russell grit his teeth. Cold sweat poured down his body. He struggled to draw his wand — thank Merlin he hadn't left it inside just because he was wearing a suit.

"Expecto Patronum!" He summoned happy memories. A ball of silvery light gathered at the tip of his wand, forming a cloudy mass. But whether from terror or inexperience, the light wouldn't solidify into a proper Patronus.

"Expecto—"

A stronger, more resolute voice rang out over his.

Russell looked toward it instinctively.

He saw nothing. Then — within a vast expanse of silvery-white light, a small figure stood steadfast at the front.

For a moment, Russell's eyes welled up.

So tall! What a majestic back!

That's the one he wanted to follow — wait.

Was that back a bit... short?

The Snitch's flight path was unpredictable — pure randomness and whim. That was by design, meant to test a Seeker's eyesight and reflexes. At least this one's range was fixed. It wouldn't fly beyond Malfoy Manor's boundaries.

Draco had the makings of a Seeker. He spotted the Snitch quickly. But just as he was about to catch it, Zabini appeared from nowhere and blocked his path.

By the time Draco got around him, the Snitch was gone.

"Zabini!"

Zabini shrugged, unfazed. "Oh, Draco, you know I'm no match for you at finding the ball. We're evenly matched at flying. I'll have a hard time winning." He was acutely aware of his strengths and weaknesses. Finding the Snitch? He'd lose to Draco a hundred percent of the time. So he winked. "But I can make sure you can't catch it."

That way they were even. Since neither of them could catch it.

Draco looked like a peacock in a frenzy. How could this guy be so cheeky! But when he remembered it was Blaise Zabini... it didn't seem so strange. This bloke was always like that. How many times had Zabini watched him make a fool of himself? Today he was just being more obvious about it.

"Hmph!" Draco snorted. "Even with your tricks, I'll still catch it!"

He accelerated suddenly.

Hall rode past on his Nimbus 2001 and said casually, "That's hard to say."

Draco's tension flared. He'd almost forgotten about Hall!

Zabini clicked his tongue, watching the chase, then accelerated to follow.

Draco crouched on his broom, trying to catch up to Hall.

Then Hall stopped abruptly.

Draco was bewildered, then excited. What was wrong with Hall? This was his chance to overtake him! Not to be missed!

"Draco! Stop!" Hall's voice rang out, grave and serious.

Draco realised something was wrong. Hall rarely yelled at him like that.

He wanted to stop.

But a bone-chilling cold swept through him. Fear, terror, a profound sense of powerlessness — Draco lost control of his body instantly. The broom veered wildly.

Everything happened in an instant.

"Draco—"

He heard many voices calling his name. His father. Hall.

"Expecto Patronum!"

A beam of silvery-white light shot across the sky, illuminating everything. The light bathed Draco, warming his unconscious body, driving away the gloom in his heart.

"Rooowr—"

Draco came to his senses and saw a winged creature — a small tiger — swoop past him. It carried him on its back and roared fiercely at the Dementors clustered in the sky.

"Rooowr—"

"That's..." Draco reached out instinctively.

Then he snapped back to reality. He was falling!

"Wingardium Leviosa!" Draco's descent slowed.

Hall lunged forward, pushing his flying to the limit. He swept past and caught Draco on his broom.

Everyone who'd witnessed it breathed a collective sigh of relief.