A cold wind suddenly swept through the scorching summer, making the guests who had been celebrating in the large tent shiver. Harry, already sensing that something was wrong, drew his wand and tried to summon a Patronus before the swarm of Dementors descended, but Albert raised a hand beside him and pressed his wand down.
"Go join the others first," Albert told the three of them. "Whether you plan to stay and fight with everyone or leave before the Death Eaters arrive."
"What about you?" Hermione asked nervously.
"I need to stay. Only if I stay will they feel at ease fighting."
"Come on, Hermione!"
Harry knew exactly what Albert meant. He envied him, too—he wanted to become someone like Dumbledore, someone who could calm people and give them confidence.
Unfortunately, Harry's magical ability did not allow him to do something that foolish.
Watching the three leave, Albert turned his gaze forward again. His eyes seemed to pierce the darkness ahead, seeing the Dementors swarming toward them.
Though the protective spells around the perimeter were not particularly sophisticated, they were still doing their job, temporarily stopping the Dementors and preventing those damned Dark Creatures from rushing in all at once.
Of course, those defensive spells would only make the Death Eaters spend a little more effort. Still, slowing them down was far better than letting the Death Eaters and Dementors charge straight at them while everyone was caught off guard.
As shrill alarms rang out around him, Albert looked up at the dark shape sweeping overhead. Feeling the chill rushing toward him, he raised his wand at the Dementor gliding toward him. A pale sphere of light gathered at its tip and sent the foolish Dementor lunging at him flying away.
Had it set its sights on me?
Albert flung