The silver dragon opened its maw and swallowed the three Dementors at the very front.
The other Dementors let out piercing shrieks, desperately trying to escape into the clouds.
But the dragon circled once in the air, flicked its tail, and swept up another seven or eight Dementors, swallowing them all.
However, the Dementors were numerous and scattered wildly in the air.
Other Professors in the Professor's stands also cast the Patronus Charm, and several silvery-white spectral figures soared into the sky, working with Charlie's silver dragon to completely drive the remaining Dementors away from the Quidditch Pitch.
Deafening thunder rumbled again, and the pouring rain continued.
The clamor on the Quidditch Pitch had long been replaced by bone-chilling cold and fear.
Harry's teammates were the first to react, rushing desperately towards where Harry had fallen.
Dumbledore was already standing there, waving his wand to remove the Cushioning Charm from Harry.
The Principal's face was terribly grim; his usually gentle and mischievous blue eyes now held only cold fury.
The aura he exuded seemed to solidify the air around him.
"How is he?" Angelina asked anxiously, her voice trembling.
"He just fainted, nothing serious," Dumbledore said after checking Harry's condition.
"Take him to Madam Pomfrey."
Fred and George fumbled with a stretcher, lifted Harry, and hurried away from the Quidditch Pitch.
Wood stood rooted to the spot, dazed, rain streaming down his cheeks, indistinguishable from tears.
"Hufflepuff wins!" Madam Hooch blew the final whistle.
Cedric walked quickly to Wood, his face devoid of any joy of victory. He held out his hand, offering the golden snitch.
"This doesn't count, Wood," Cedric's voice was sincere.
"Harry had an accident; we should have a rematch."
Wood's vacant eyes finally showed a flicker of emotion. He looked at Cedric, his lips moved, but no words came out.
"Diggory, rules are rules," Madam Hooch approached, her expression serious.
"No one called for a halt to the game before you caught the snitch. The score is valid, Hufflepuff won."
Wood took a deep breath, as if expending all his strength.
He pushed away Cedric's outstretched hand.
"No," his voice was hoarse, as if abraded by sandpaper.
"You won fair and square; there's no need for a rematch."
Hermione and Ron followed Fred and George's stretcher to the hospital wing.
Charlie planned to visit later; the hospital wing was surely crowded now.
Just then, Dumbledore's voice came from nearby.
"Charlie."
The Principal was looking at Charlie, his face unreadable.
"Would you please come with me?"
Charlie shrugged and followed him.
The enormous silver dragon circled once in the air, let out a clear, resonant roar, then rapidly shrunk, transforming into a small silver dragon the length of a forearm, landing lightly on Charlie's shoulder and rubbing its head against his cheek.
The dozen or so Dementors in its belly also shrunk with it; they seemed to have no volume or mass.
The two walked one after another, silently through the empty corridor, heading to the Principal's office.
"Earwax-flavored Every Flavor Beans."
Dumbledore spoke the password to the gargoyle.
Charlie looked disgusted; what kind of things were these to eat?
The gargoyle rotated aside, revealing the spiral staircase behind it, and the two entered the office.
"Your Patronus is truly a remarkable masterpiece."
Dumbledore walked behind his desk, took a shiny silver box from a drawer, and placed it on the table.
"Its form is more solid and refined than any Patronus I have ever seen."
"However, Dementors cannot be destroyed, so let's keep them contained in this box for now."
Charlie patted the small dragon on his shoulder.
The small dragon flew to the table, opened its mouth towards the silver box, and spat out a dozen black mists.
As soon as the black mists left the dragon's mouth, they began to twist and struggle, emitting sharp shrieks.
Dumbledore quickly closed the lid and locked the box.
"Remarkable control."
"Would you like some sweets? Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans? Or try this, Honeydukes' new Cockroach Clusters."
Charlie remembered the earwax flavor from the password and politely shook his head.
Not long after, there was a knock on the office door.
"Come in," Dumbledore said.
The door opened, and a short, stout man wearing a pinstriped cloak walked in.
He clutched a green bowler hat in his hand, his face showing a hint of anxiety and obsequiousness.
It was none other than the Minister for Magic, Cornelius Fudge.
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