"Uh… it's dead?" Rowan stared at the pile of ash where the Dementor had been, blinking in genuine surprise.
He'd only wanted to test whether the light-based magic he'd learned elsewhere could affect creatures like this. At most, he'd expected something similar to a Patronus. Repulsion. Damage. Not complete annihilation.
"One hit," he muttered. "That's… awkward."
These Dementors weren't rogue monsters. They were, officially at least, Ministry employees. Guards of Azkaban. They hadn't even attacked this compartment directly. One could argue they were just doing their job.
Which made the situation difficult to explain.
Rowan scratched his head, then paused.
Actually, no notice had been given. Hogwarts hadn't been informed. The students certainly hadn't been warned. A soul-sucking horror appearing at the door of a second-year carriage was more than enough justification for self-defense.
And besides, a Dementor had already attacked Harry elsewhere on the train. That part was beyond dispute.
Before Rowan could think further, a low, furious wail echoed down the corridor.
More Dementors were coming.
Drawn by the death-cry of one of their own, the remaining creatures abandoned their search and converged on the second-year carriage. They were intelligent beings, capable of negotiation and cooperation. They understood loss.
And they were angry.
Cloaked figures flooded the corridor. Hollow mouths opened in wordless fury as they surged toward Rowan's compartment.
Rowan sighed.
"I really wouldn't do that if I were you."
He raised his hand again.
"Radiant Field."
Light burst outward, filling the carriage and spilling into the hallway. It wasn't a beam or a strike, but a living glow that pushed back the shadows themselves.
The Dementors recoiled instantly.
Their shrieks pierced the air as they scattered in panic, fleeing down the train, away from the unbearable brilliance that threatened their very existence.
Students in nearby compartments stared in disbelief, peering out to see what had caused the chaos.
At the front of the train, Aurors reacted just as fast.
Rufus Scrimgeour, head of the Auror Office, snapped his head up. "Go. Find out what's happening."
Several Aurors vanished at once.
Beside him, a squat witch in pink stiffened with excitement. Dolores Umbridge clutched her frilly umbrella, eyes gleaming.
"The Minister was right," she said eagerly. "Black must be on the train!"
Scrimgeour's jaw tightened. "Deputy Minister, if you look at the Dementors' behavior, they didn't capture anyone. This was a mistake. Allowing them on the Hogwarts Express against Dumbledore's wishes was reckless."
Umbridge's smile sharpened. "Mind your place, Scrimgeour. You answer to the Minister. Not a headmaster. Power in this country belongs to the Ministry."
"Dumbledore is the wisest wizard alive," Scrimgeour replied coldly. "Ignoring him is never wise."
Umbridge flushed, said nothing, and turned away.
Moments later, a young Auror reappeared, pale and shaken.
"It wasn't Sirius Black," he said quickly. "It was… something else."
Umbridge snapped, "Out with it!"
"A second-year student killed a Dementor. The rest fled."
Silence fell like a dropped curtain.
Scrimgeour and Umbridge stared at him.
"A what," Scrimgeour said slowly.
"A second-year," the Auror repeated. "Multiple witnesses. The Dementors confirmed it before retreating."
Neither of them believed it.
They followed him anyway.
The second-year carriage was crowded now. Ash still marked the floor. Rowan stood calmly as an Auror took notes.
Scrimgeour entered, took one look at Rowan, and frowned.
Then recognition dawned.
"You," he said, pointing. "You're Tonks'… friend. The kid."
Rowan offered a polite nod. "Good afternoon, Mr. Scrimgeour."
Scrimgeour studied him, then gestured to the ash. "Did you do this?"
Rowan sighed. "Sir, I really didn't mean to."
He repeated his explanation. A sudden threat. No warning. A reflexive counterspell he'd created himself. He hadn't expected the Dementor to disintegrate.
Umbridge shoved past Scrimgeour, face tight with suspicion.
"Nonsense. A child can't invent magic capable of killing Dementors," she snapped. "Sirius Black was here. You helped him escape."
Rowan looked at her, then at the ash, then back again.
"I was sitting and reading," he said evenly. "A Dementor stuck its head into my compartment. I reacted. That's all."
The Aurors exchanged uneasy glances.
The ash on the floor wasn't going anywhere.
And neither was the truth.