Dumbledore could predict with absolute certainty what fate awaited Peter Pettigrew once Snape got his hands on him. Yet even knowing this, he would only turn a blind eye, allowing Snape to unleash thirteen years of accumulated fury and hatred.
Did Dumbledore hate Peter Pettigrew?
Undoubtedly, yes. If Dumbledore weren't Dumbledore—if he weren't bound by the weight of his own legend—perhaps he too would undertake these audacious, lawless actions alongside Glenn and Snape.
But such freedom was impossible. Dumbledore was Dumbledore. This illustrious identity brought honor and power, yes—but also invisible shackles and an inescapable prison that governed his every decision.
If only beside him there was someone who...
Sigh... better not to dwell on such thoughts.
Dumbledore immediately extinguished the dangerous notion before it could fully form.
This wasn't the time for melancholy. He needed to consider how to handle the inevitable consequences. Though he wasn't the direct target of tonight's chaos, occupying his position meant that when something this explosive occurred in the wizarding world, the shockwaves would inevitably reach him.
He also had to assess whether Glenn and Snape's post-operation cleanup would prove sufficiently thorough. The probability of exposure was minimal, but if complications arose, he'd need to provide cover...
What a magnificent headache...
Dumbledore sighed internally as he raised his ancient eyes skyward, clasping his hands behind his back in contemplation of the turbulent night.
Perhaps because Glenn's alchemical devices had systematically extracted all moisture from within and around the forest, the fog blanketing the surrounding regions was now drifting toward that epicenter like iron filings drawn to a magnet. Even the Ministry's perpetually shrouded sky was beginning to show patches of startling clarity.
"Chaos disperses, clarity emerges. Glenn, will you prove to be that crucial purifying current..."
Dumbledore's eyes flickered with otherworldly light as he murmured these prophetic words.
"Hard to say—could just as easily be a mudslide."
Hermione adopted Dumbledore's contemplative posture, hands clasped behind her back, chin raised with mock profundity as she gazed at the clearing heavens.
"Professor Dumbledore, I should mention that I tried extremely hard to dissuade Glenn from this reckless course of action. And regarding my participation in tonight's operation—I was conscripted, not volunteering. So perhaps you could exclude me from any post-incident disciplinary lectures?"
"Ah yes, naturally."
"..."
........................
After Hermione terminated her communication, Glenn switched channels to Snape's frequency.
"Professor Snape, Ministry reinforcements are en route to your position. Evacuate the forest immediately."
"Spare me your mothering—I departed that location ages ago. And naturally, I've secured my quarry."
Snape's irritated voice crackled through the earpiece, punctuated by howling wind and the distinctive crack of Apparition. Clearly, he was already miles from the forest.
Several seconds of weighted silence followed. Snape's mouth opened and closed repeatedly, words forming and dying unspoken. Finally, after considerable internal struggle, he forced out a few glacial syllables.
"Do you require... assistance?"
"Negative."
Glenn's response was characteristically economical. On the other end, Snape terminated the connection without ceremony.
Pocketing his communication device, Glenn continued his vertical ascent, his transformed body cutting through the night air like a dark arrow.
Below him, vast legions of spectral shadows surged upward in interwoven formations, bringing bone-numbing cold and the sound of a thousand screaming winds.
The tactical situation Glenn now faced differed slightly from his reports to Hermione and Snape.
He wasn't pursuing the Dementors—the Dementors were pursuing him.
But this represented the only deviation from his briefing. Glenn felt no concern whatsoever about his circumstances.
After recognizing that their speed couldn't match the black predator systematically devouring their ranks, the Dementors experienced despair for the first time in their existence. Continued flight meant inevitable extinction.
Even cornered rats will bare their teeth—how much more so creatures born from humanity's darkest emotions?
Faced with Glenn's relentless hunt, the Dementors embraced savage desperation. Though approaching the abomination radiating their most hated energy—that thing trailing behind them like Death incarnate—guaranteed heavier casualties, they chose confrontation over cowardice.
Even if you are some unspeakable horror, before you consume us entirely, we'll tear away pieces of your essence!
Risking annihilation, the Dementors pressed their assault. Using their frontline comrades as expendable stepping stones toward vengeance, they achieved unprecedented unity, launching a coordinated offensive against Glenn.
Witness our fury made manifest!
Confronted by the Dementors' counteroffensive, Glenn naturally abandoned pursuit tactics. He had absolutely zero desire to permit these abominations physical contact for even a nanosecond.
This tactical shift posed no problems. His objective remained unchanged: herd these monsters to an uninhabited wasteland, then systematically exterminate them. Their decision to fight back merely altered his methodology.
The difference between "push" and "pull"—nothing more.
To maintain optimal distance from the Dementor swarm, Glenn had been deliberately moderating his flight velocity. Now that predator and prey had reversed roles, the same principle applied—though the intellectually limited Dementors would never grasp this strategic nuance.
Actually, this development served his purposes even better. At minimum, he no longer needed to ensure every fleeing Dementor maintained the same directional vector.
Furthermore...
Ascending at tremendous velocity, Glenn glanced downward at the Dementors forming an almost continuous black chain below and allowed himself a predatory smile.
Now I don't even need to calculate attack angles for my Patronus strikes.
Against the star-drunk sky, a writhing rope of Dementors rose from earth toward heaven like some blasphemous tower. Three hundred meters above this ascending nightmare, Glenn's upward momentum gradually ceased. He released his magical transformation, spread his arms wide in crucifixion posture, and allowed gravity to claim him.
Glenn entered free fall, his body inverted like a dark angel plummeting toward judgment.
"Expecto Patronum."
Hurricane winds whipped his midnight hair skyward as he extended his wand, aiming directly at the black tsunami below. Glenn channeled every erg of magical power into his focus, causing the protective serpent coiled around him to dissolve instantly.
Then it reformed with exponentially greater violence and concentration!
Obsidian radiance condensed before him in a heartbeat. The massive serpent unhinged its cosmic jaws and exploded from that dark aureole like the wrath of forgotten gods.
A celestial hammer descending from the heavens, Glenn'sPatronus obliterated the mountain of Dementors with apocalyptic force.
~~~~❃❃~~~~~~~~❃❃~~~~
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