The Phoenix Patronus flapped its wings and flew back into the distance.
Melvin and Hagrid made a full circuit around the exterior of the wooden cabin near the Forbidden Forest, tidied up their farming tools, and secured the doors and windows. They then called for Fang and Yulm and started down the path toward the castle.
The rustle of their hard-soled leather boots on the forest floor was the only sound. Hagrid glanced at Melvin, who walked beside him.
The young professor was wearing a charcoal-brown trench coat, his collar slightly turned up against the wind. He held a kerosene lamp, his wand tucked into his outer pocket. He looked capable and composed, his dark eyes glowing faintly in the night, ready to deal with any sudden emergency.
The old gamekeeper, with decades of experience, nodded in satisfaction.
"I've already warned the Centaur colony and the Unicorns. We don't need to worry about the whole Forest. If Black gets into the woods, the Centaurs' arrows and the Unicorns' horns will give him a proper welcome."
"I heard Professor McGonagall mention that since Quirrell hunted Unicorns, the Centaur colony has been patrolling the nights, and they haven't dropped their guard for two years."
"That's right..."
Hagrid continued forward, and they soon arrived at the edge of the Black Lake. The muddy banks were wet, making their steps uneven. The deep, dark surface of the lake shimmered faintly, reflecting the moonlight.
Melvin walked leisurely behind Hagrid, holding the lamp. As they moved along the shore, the moonlight stretched their vastly different shadows—one stout, one slender—out long before them.
Melvin's attention was subtly drawn to the tendrils of magic floating toward him from a distance. These were from wizards all over the world reading the related news and speaking his name in the night.
It happened during the day too, but the clear night was better for sensing it, as there was too much noise then.
If Melvin were asked to pinpoint exactly where each magical thread originated, he couldn't say.
It was an ethereal feeling—absorbing overflow emotions to increase his own magical power. The process was slow and lengthy, like a student's height and weight during a growth spurt. Looking back after a few months, you might notice a change, but ten or fifteen days would show almost no difference.
Yulm seemed to sense something. It whispered to Fang, nudging the dog to walk close to Melvin's trousers. It unwound its tail from Fang's neck and slithered up Melvin's trench coat, curling into a ball and shrinking into his pocket.
Its black, beady eyes narrowed slightly. After being released into the Forbidden Forest for two months, it especially missed this feeling.
"...The Black Lake might not look like much compared to some rivers, but it's unfathomably deep, with chasms that even lead out to the ocean," Hagrid continued his patrol along the shore, a slight frown coming to his face as his gaze fell on the reflection in the water.
Dementors are already dark and dim, and traveling through the clouds at night made them even harder to spot. Melvin could feel their magic above, but couldn't clearly see them. Only when their shadows swept past them could the two men notice these dark creatures.
Melvin thought for a moment and tried to channel the Obscurus's magic, letting the gray mist appear in his pupils.
Looking up again, the Dementors that had been drifting and weaving among the clouds immediately became visible.
Against the vast curtain of the night sky, sparse stars and the moon shone in combination. The moonlight and starlight hit the cloud banks, diffracting into a pale gray color, with a faint, subtle glow.
Focusing his sight on the nearest Dementor, he could vaguely peer through the cowl of its cloak and see the empty, expressionless face beneath.
The face was grayish-white and wrinkled, with nothing in its dark eye sockets—vacant and listless, like an Inferius lightly decomposed from soaking in the cold, dead water of a deep pond.
Seemingly noticing the focused stare, the cloaked, spindly-limbed Dementor turned its head and swooped down, floating directly toward Melvin and Hagrid.
As it drew closer, the view became clearer. The creature looked incredibly gaunt, with only sparse bits of flesh around its joints, like a tattered skin hanging on a skeleton. Its limbs and neck were long and thin, and it had no nose, only two empty holes, sniffing forward.
Melvin keenly observed that the Dementor's target wasn't Hagrid, who had more positive emotions, but was fixing its attention on him, seemingly searching for the source of the Obscurus's magic.
There seemed to be an underlying connection between Boggarts and the Obscurus.
As the chilling fog clinging to the Dementor approached, the temperature rapidly dropped. Hagrid shivered, pulling his moleskin coat tighter. "These Dementors have been guarding the entrance for ages, constantly sniffing the students' happy emotions but never getting a full meal. A starving beast is always at risk of losing control sooner or later."
Melvin nodded in agreement. "That's why Dumbledore didn't want them in the school."
"You rotten bilge-rats! Get lost!"
Hagrid yelled at the Dementor, but unfortunately, the creature was unmoved. It simply hovered over the lake, observing the two of them from a distance that was neither too close nor too far.
Melvin narrowed his eyes slightly.
If he were alone, he would have simply grabbed it and taken it back to his office to keep the other Dementor company. Unfortunately, Hagrid was watching.
It wasn't that he didn't trust Hagrid; it was mainly because the half-giant wasn't very good at lying, which would make him an easy weak point if the Aurors pressed him for information.
With a slight, regretful sigh, Melvin waved his wand, releasing a silvery mist that drove the Dementor away.
"A Patronus Charm, now that's brilliant..." Hagrid looked up at the fleeing Dementor, clicking his tongue in admiration.
He had been expelled in his third year and had his wand snapped. Although Dumbledore repaired it and disguised it as a pink umbrella, he hadn't received formal magical education afterward and only knew the standard low-level spells.
For an advanced spell like the Patronus Charm, the gamekeeper felt the same envy a farmer might feel looking at a university textbook.
"Harry and the others are learning the Patronus Charm recently, you could practice with them."
Hagrid looked tempted but waved his hand. "Nah, I'm too thick. I wouldn't be able to learn it."
"Don't underestimate yourself, Hagrid," Melvin said. "Learning the Patronus Charm doesn't require vast knowledge or a brilliant mind. This magic favors kind and righteous wizards, and it needs happy, positive memories—which you have plenty of."
"Do I?" Hagrid scratched his head.
"You might even summon a giant Patronus. There's a historical precedent in the history of magic: Andros the Greek mastered the Patronus Charm, and his Patronus was a giant that repelled attacks from groups of Lethifolds many times, protecting his city."
"I'm going to learn that one!"
Hagrid grinned, his face full of delight.
The path around the grounds was flanked by the Whomping Willow and the greenhouses. Melvin and Hagrid checked both sides.
On a deep autumn night in November, the Whomping Willow's branches were coated with dew. As the temperature dropped, the moisture would freeze layer by layer, and they would see white frost in the morning. However, the Whomping Willow wasn't a normal tree; it would shake its own branches to clear them.
The greenhouses had several rooms. The first greenhouse, where first-years took class, usually contained safe, harmless plants. The greenhouses for older students had dangerous plants like Mandrakes, Puffapod pods, and Venomous Tentaculas, which sometimes made noise when basking in the moonlight at night.
It could be a bit startling to hear.
As Melvin passed the Whomping Willow, he paid attention to the knot on the tree's roots. The Bowtruckles were also sleeping in the tree, their leafy bodies swaying while they dozed, making it impossible to spot the secret passage beneath the roots.
Fang stopped at a safe distance, circled the roots, and seemed to be debating whether or not he should alert them.
Yulm poked its head out, too.
"Come on, Mr. Filch is waiting for us up at the castle," Melvin said, gently nudging Fang's belly with his foot, soothing the keen-scented hunting dog. He then brought up a question as if it were an afterthought. "Hagrid, do you know about the secret passages in the school?"
"You're worried about Black sneaking into the school through a passage, right?"
Hagrid's tone was casual, completely unconcerned. "There are a few passages in the school, old ones that were left behind. But the caretakers over the years have explored and logged pretty much all of them. Filch sealed them up ages ago, so no need to worry."
Melvin glanced back at the knot on the tree roots.
Speaking of which, if Filch didn't know about this tunnel, surely Dumbledore and the others did... why didn't anyone remind Filch when they were blocking up the secret passages?
"Mr. Filch, we've finished patrolling the outside!"
In the quiet castle at night, Hagrid's rough voice carried far. He hadn't even reached the Entrance Hall before his voice was heard down the corridor leading to the courtyard.
Melvin followed him, casually waving his wand to close the two outer doors, sealing out the night and the cold wind.
Right next to the Entrance Hall, turning right led to Filch's office. The door was slightly ajar. Pushing it open, they found no one inside; he must have stepped out briefly.
"Maybe he went to the loo..." Hagrid muttered, sitting down on a chair without invitation.
Melvin looked around. The room was very cramped, lit only by a single kerosene lamp that didn't illuminate the whole space. There were no windows, and the air smelled faintly of frying fish. It was connected to the kitchen via a fireplace and was reasonably warm.
Wooden filing cabinets lined the walls. On the desk was a poster that Melvin glanced at: an enrollment form for a 'Quick-Spell Correspondence Course,' a scam targeting Squibs.
On the wall behind the desk hung a set of shining chains and manacles.
"Those were left behind by the last caretaker, Mr. Pringle. Caretakers used to punish students by hoisting their ankles or thumbs up and hanging them upside down from the ceiling. Arthur and Molly were punished like that once, they got caught having a date after curfew..."
Hagrid chuckled. "Dumbledore banned that when he took over as Headmaster."
"That was Dumbledore's biggest mistake!"
Filch walked in from outside, carrying a kerosene lamp. "I just heard a noise on the stairs. I suspect some students were coming down from the upstairs corridors, and I've sent Mrs. Norris after them."
He walked past them back to his desk, his eyes scanning the pink umbrella tucked into Hagrid's waistband with a hint of envy. When he sat down and saw the poster on his desk, he immediately looked up at Melvin.
Melvin nodded politely, offering a simple colleague-to-colleague greeting, and acted as if he noticed nothing unusual.
"Gentlemen, you'd better start patrolling the castle right away, too."
Filch subtly covered the poster. "If we can't catch Black, at least we can catch a few mischievous students and make them scrub all the toilets in the school!"
"Don't worry. When we catch Black, Dumbledore won't stop you from hanging him upside down from the ceiling." Hagrid downed his hot tea in one gulp, patted his rear, and stood up.