The students were certainly not blind. The exact moment the unnatural chill descended upon the stadium, hundreds of terrified eyes spotted the approaching Dementors.
"Merlin's beard! Those are Dementors?!"
"What are they doing here?!"
"Longbottom! What happened to Longbottom?! He just fainted!"
"They are heading straight for the pitch! Watch out!"
A cacophony of terrified screams and panicked shouts erupted instantly, throwing the packed stands into chaos.
Maurise frowned slightly, turning his head to look at Dumbledore. "Why exactly are the Dementors encroaching upon the stadium?"
He doubted the creatures were acting under the Headmaster's direct authorization.
Dumbledore had already risen to his feet. At some point during the confusion, the Elder Wand had smoothly materialized in his hand.
"We shall resume our previous discussion later, Maurise."
Dumbledore's jaw was clenched tight, and his expression was livid. It was glaringly obvious that he was unaware of the Dementors' sudden, unauthorized invasion.
Maurise didn't press the issue further. He leaned back against the railing, preparing to enjoy an entertaining display of magical prowess.
'Show them what you can do, Professor Dumbledore!'
"Minerva! Filius! Pomona!" Dumbledore's magically amplified voice cut through the roaring wind with clarity. "Deploy immediately and secure the students! I shall handle the intruders! All non-combatants, evacuate to the castle!"
The three Heads of House instantly mobilized, drawing their wands and sprinting toward the panicked student sections.
Maurise, however, felt no immediate urge to evacuate. He watched the massive swarm of descending Dementors with a growing sense of academic greed.
He was tempted to secretly capture a few more specimens to provide his current captive with some company. A larger sample size was always more valuable for comprehensive research.
Unfortunately, he hadn't thought to bring his magically expanded briefcase to the Quidditch match.
He could only wait and see if a viable opportunity presented itself.
Just as he was internally calculating the logistics of capturing a Dementor bare-handed, he felt a firm grip close around his forearm. It was Dumbledore.
"Come with me," Dumbledore instructed firmly. "Your proficient Patronus Charm may prove useful. Do you have your wand?"
"Hmm?" Maurise blinked in surprise. "Are you requiring my assistance?"
"Indeed," Dumbledore cast a swift glance at him before returning his intense focus to the Dementors rapidly flooding the airspace above the pitch. "We must drive them away immediately."
Maurise obediently stood up.
While he was certain Dumbledore was more than capable of handling the situation single-handedly, he didn't mind stretching his magical muscles if explicitly requested.
Furthermore, he was curious to observe a genuine, adult wizard's Patronus Charm at close range to compare its structural integrity with his own.
The two wizards swiftly navigated down the wooden stairs, stepping directly onto the muddy, rain-soaked grass of the pitch.
The Dementors were now swarming around the goalposts.
The Hufflepuff Quidditch team had already executed emergency landings. They were currently stumbling away from their brooms, gasping heavily for air, looking utterly terrified.
Maurise quickly noticed that Cedric Diggory, the Hufflepuff Seeker, was clutching a violently struggling golden sphere in his hand. It was the Golden Snitch.
It appeared the official match had already concluded.
However, for some inexplicable reason, the Gryffindor team was still hovering high in the freezing air.
Squinting against the torrential downpour, Maurise attempted to discern what they were doing.
'Hmm. I cannot see a thing.'
Even though he possessed monstrous magical power, his physical eyesight was still strictly limited to standard human parameters.
At that exact moment, a small black silhouette suddenly plummeted rapidly from the swirling storm clouds.
'Someone just fell off their broom!'
Before Maurise could even react, Dumbledore had already smoothly flicked the Elder Wand.
An incredibly powerful, invisible kinetic force instantly manifested beneath the falling figure, arresting their momentum flawlessly and lowering them gently onto the muddy grass.
Naturally, the fallen student was Harry Potter.
'The protagonist is always the one who suffers the catastrophic accidents. It is a logical narrative progression.'
Harry lay completely motionless in the mud, his face deathly pale, his eyes tightly closed. He had already slipped into a deep coma.
Moments later, the rest of the Gryffindor team hastily executed emergency landings. Every member looked absolutely devastated.
They had lost the match, their Seeker had suffered a catastrophic fall, and they were currently surrounded by Dementors. It was a complete, unmitigated disaster.
"Is... is Harry still alive?" Oliver Wood, the Gryffindor Captain, stared at Dumbledore, his voice trembling.
"He will survive. He merely requires immediate medical attention," Dumbledore reassured him softly, before turning his piercing blue eyes back toward the sky. "However, these foul creatures must be forcefully evicted from the grounds immediately."
Maurise crossed his arms, fully prepared to observe Dumbledore's legendary Patronus.
He recalled Snape mentioning once that Dumbledore's corporeal Patronus took the form of a majestic phoenix. It was the only documented instance in magical history of a Patronus assuming the form of a magical beast.
However, just as Maurise braced himself to witness the awe-inspiring magic, Dumbledore suddenly turned his head and looked directly at him.
"Drive them all away, Maurise."
Maurise paused, pointing a finger blankly at his own chest.
"Me?"
He glanced back up at the terrifying, massive swarm of Dementors still circling overhead.
'Is it logical to order a third-year student to repel an entire legion of Azkaban guards?'
Dumbledore offered a faint, encouraging nod. "You are more than capable."
'Is he that confident in my abilities?'
'Whatever. It doesn't really matter.'
Maurise let out a soft, exasperated sigh and smoothly drew his wand.
'Then I suppose I should handle it.'
He wasn't doing anything else particularly important anyway.
"Expecto Patronum."
He spoke the incantation softly, his voice completely devoid of fear or panic.
A blinding, violent torrent of pure silver light erupted from the tip of his wand. It surged forward like a massive, roaring river of starlight, churning and expanding across the dark sky.
Immediately following the initial burst, dozens of highly condensed, brilliant silver ravens began rapidly detaching from the glowing mist.
One. Two. Five. Ten. Twenty.
Within seconds, over a hundred magnificent, glowing silver ravens completely dominated the airspace above the pitch, their collective radiance utterly obliterating the unnatural darkness and oppressive chill.
Faced with the overwhelming assault of pure positive energy, the massive swarm of Dementors shrieked in agony. They immediately broke formation, fleeing wildly in every direction, desperately retreating away from the stadium boundaries.
The entire stadium fell into absolute, deafening silence.
Every single individual present—professors, prefects, and students alike—stared at the sky in profound, jaw-dropping shock.
"That was significantly easier than I anticipated," Maurise muttered casually, giving his wand a brief, precise flick.
The massive flock of silver ravens instantly dissolved into a beautiful shower of glowing starlight, fading seamlessly into the torrential rain as if they had never existed.
The dark storm clouds immediately reclaimed the sky, and the freezing rain continued to fall heavily. However, the suffocating, soul-crushing chill had completely vanished.
Oliver Wood stumbled forward, his wide eyes darting frantically between Maurise and the empty sky. He was so profoundly stunned he had temporarily forgotten all about the devastating loss to Hufflepuff.
"Those... those silver birds... did you just cast that?" he stammered, staring at Maurise as if he were an alien.
"Naturally," Maurise replied, sounding completely unbothered.
Unlike his previous demonstrations, utilizing this specific magnitude of the Patronus Charm no longer threatened to completely drain his magical reserves.
He hadn't even utilized his full offensive output.
"Absolutely magnificent work, Maurise!"
Dumbledore praised him loudly, his voice filled with genuine, undisguised admiration.
At some point during the chaotic display, the Headmaster had already carefully levitated Harry's unconscious form onto a magically conjured stretcher.
"I must transport Harry to the hospital wing immediately," Dumbledore announced, gently flicking the Elder Wand to maneuver the floating stretcher. "Please, accompany me, Maurise."
Maurise nodded silently and quickly fell into step beside the Headmaster.
Oliver Wood and the rest of the traumatized Gryffindor team immediately followed close behind. They were terrified for their Seeker's well-being.
---
The hospital wing was in a state of organized chaos. Madam Pomfrey was rushing frantically between several occupied beds.
"Absolutely dreadful. Those foul, wretched creatures," she muttered angrily to the crowd of wet, shivering students gathered around Harry's bed. "The Dementors have a severe psychological impact on Mr. Potter. However, he is physically unharmed. He should regain consciousness shortly... I had best prepare several restorative draughts and a large block of high-grade chocolate."
Hearing her professional diagnosis, the Gryffindor team let out a massive, collective sigh of relief.
'As long as he is alive, nothing else matters.'
Dumbledore stepped forward, looking down at Harry with a gentle, deeply concerned expression. "I leave him entirely in your capable hands, Poppy."
"It is my professional duty, Albus," Madam Pomfrey stated firmly. She then turned her strict gaze toward the hovering students, her tone softening slightly. "Harry Potter will awaken soon. You may remain here for a short while, but I absolutely insist on absolute quiet. Furthermore, if any of you are experiencing lingering nausea, chills, or psychological distress, inform me immediately. The aftereffects of Dementor exposure are not a trivial matter."