The power of the Patronus Charm against Dementors was beyond any question or doubt, proven over centuries of magical defense.
With the appearance of Harry's corporeal silver stag Patronus, those terrible black-robed monsters immediately recoiled as if burned. They only dared to linger cautiously at the very edge of the silver light's reach, hesitating to advance any closer into that painful radiance but simultaneously unwilling to leave completely.
Harry suddenly recalled the news he'd heard at the recent Order of the Phoenix gathering just weeks ago, the intelligence Dumbledore had shared about Azkaban's security failure.
The Dementors hovering before him right now, were most likely among those that had escaped from Azkaban prison during that mass breakout.
He absolutely didn't believe for a second that the Ministry of Magic would deliberately release Dementors specifically to trouble him here in Little Whinging—unless every single person in the government had gone completely mad or been placed under the Imperius Curse simultaneously.
The appearance of the glowing Patronus made Dudley feel somewhat better physically; the terrible bone-chilling cold that had been making his teeth chatter uncontrollably and his fingers go numb was no longer quite as fierce as it had been moments before.
But he could still very clearly see those terrifying black creatures hovering not far from where he stood beside Harry, floating there almost in mid-air as if blocked by some kind of invisible magical barrier.
"They... they don't dare come any closer?" Dudley asked in a trembling whisper. His eyes absolutely refused to leave those floating, horrifying figures for even a single moment, terrified that if he looked away they might somehow get closer.
"Not for now," Harry answered curtly, his wand held steadily in the air despite his racing heart and the sweat on his forehead from concentration. "But I can't maintain my Patronus like this forever."
"Patronus?" Dudley repeated stupidly. He'd never heard anything like it before.
Though Dudley was indeed somewhat dim and not particularly bright in school, he at least possessed a normal functioning human brain and basic reasoning ability.
He didn't know what a Patronus was exactly, had never heard the term before in his entire life, but according to what Harry had just said with that grim, exhausted tone, the situation was clearly not optimistic or safely under control.
In fact, Harry understood well from his training and experience that while the Patronus Charm could indeed effectively drive away Dementors temporarily, he couldn't possibly maintain his Patronus in full corporeal form indefinitely like this.
If these Dementors kept pestering him, refusing to leave or be driven off, he had various potential ways to escape personally.
But...
Simply leaving the Dementors here wandering loose in this quiet residential area would absolutely not be a good choice for anyone.
For the ordinary Muggles living in the surrounding neighborhood, these creatures from the dark magical world were extremely dangerous and fatal.
Harry glanced sideways at the still shivering Dudley beside him, and quickly made a tactical decision based on the situation.
"Dudley, listen to me very carefully!" He said rapidly. "I need you to run home right now, as fast as you possibly can!"
Dudley looked at Harry in terror, his piggy eyes wide with fear. "But—but these things—they'll follow—"
"I'll deal with them!" Harry interrupted sharply. "You staying here will only distract me and make this harder—I'll have to protect you instead of fighting properly. They won't chase you if you run."
Dudley hesitated for only the briefest instant, before his powerful survival instinct took over.
He turned abruptly without another word and ran madly toward home.
Harry relaxed slightly and refocused all his attention and concentration on maintaining the Patronus at full strength.
The silver stag's glow intensified immediately, became more solid and defined under his new focus and will. It paced alertly in a protective circle around Harry, lowering its antlers threateningly toward those restless Dementors that kept trying to press closer.
However, much to Harry's surprise and growing alarm and dread, one of the Dementors seemed to take a particular interest in the fleeing Dudley.
It slowly separated from the main group, and began floating through the air as it followed behind the running Dudley.
Harry's heart sank like a stone dropped into deep water.
He shouted loudly, "Dudley! Watch out behind you! One's following you!"
But Dudley was either too frightened to hear properly over the sound of his own pounding heartbeat and gasping breath, or he heard the warning but absolutely didn't dare look back to confirm the terrible danger pursuing him.
He just continued running desperately forward with everything he had; his house was now visible just a few streets away in the distance.
So close. Almost safe. Almost home.
"Damn it all," Harry cursed under his breath clenching his jaws.
Dudley was leading the Dementor toward home. If Harry didn't intervene immediately, his detestable relatives would have almost no chance of survival against a Dementor's kiss.
Harry quickly made his decision. He began moving rapidly in Dudley's direction, while simultaneously maintaining the Patronus's defensive posture and reach to threaten those remaining Dementors trying to follow him.
"This is absolutely insane," he muttered to himself breathlessly as he ran.
He'd never imagined in his wildest, most unlikely dreams that one day he'd be working desperately to save the Dursleys' lives, the same people who'd made his entire childhood utterly miserable, who'd locked him in a cupboard under the stairs for years and starved him.
Despite Dudley's generally clumsy, awkward appearance and his large body that should have slowed him down, his running speed when properly motivated by mortal terror and adrenaline was surprisingly fast.
By the time Harry reached Number 4 Privet Drive, breathing hard and sweating, Dudley had already made it inside the house safely and slammed the heavy front door shut behind him with a bang that echoed down the street.
The Dementor that had followed Dudley was now hovering around the house's outdoor seemingly searching for an entrance.
Harry felt somewhat relieved that they'd closed all the doors and windows.
However, just as he was frantically considering how best to deal with this Dementor without his Patronus wavering or failing, an unexpected accident occurred that changed everything and made the situation worse.
A dark cloaked figure appeared suddenly in the Dursleys' front yard with a sharp CRACK of Apparition.
The person wore a black cloak with a silver mask on their face—a Death Eater.
Harry stopped dead in his tracks, his blood running cold in his veins, ice spreading through his chest. He watched this new and uninvited guest with extreme wariness and growing dread.
First Dementors attacking in broad daylight in a Muggle neighborhood, now a Death Eater appearing to direct them.
Without any doubt, he'd been targeted!
The Death Eater didn't even look at Harry first.
"Stop wasting time!" The Death Eater barked harshly at the searching Dementor. "Stop! Don't disturb those worthless Muggles. Your target is only Harry Potter!"
The Dementor immediately stopped its search for an entrance to the house and slowly turned toward Harry's direction instead, its hollow, terrible presence was locked dead on him.
The Death Eater also turned his masked head, finally acknowledging Harry's presence, and spoke in an icy, mocking tone that dripped with cruel amusement. "Oh, it seems you've finally arrived, Harry Potter. How terribly convenient of you to come running straight to us. You've saved us so much trouble hunting you down. The Dark Lord will be pleased."
The very moment he finished speaking those words with that horrible mocking laugh, without even giving Harry any time to react or respond or raise his wand defensively or do anything, the Death Eater pointed his wand with vicious speed.
A dazzling, violent red light shot straight at Harry like a striking viper.
Harry instinctively tried to dodge to the side but the spell was cast too fast and too accurately for him to fully avoid.
The red light struck his right arm directly that spun him partly around, and a sharp, agonizing pain exploded through the limb like hot fire. Then the entire arm instantly lost all feeling, going completely numb and dead and useless.
He looked down in horror and awful realization to discover his right arm was bent at an extremely unnatural and exaggerated angle that made his stomach lurch sickeningly.
'This arm had just healed not long ago!'
The bitter ironic thought flashed through Harry's pain-hazed mind before being quickly drowned and covered by crashing waves of intense, overwhelming agony that made his vision white out completely at the edges and his knees buckle.
The hand gripping his wand went completely slack, and the wand clattered to the pavement.
The Patronus consequently began to destabilize immediately, losing cohesion and solidity. Its silver light started flickering uncertainly like a candle struggling in strong wind.
The surrounding Dementors, sensing the Patronus's rapid weakening, immediately began to stir with aggression and press forward hungrily toward their defenseless prey.
"Looks like our precious Savior's luck isn't very good today," The Death Eater said with a cold cruel laugh, beginning to walk slowly forward.
"The Dark Lord will be very pleased indeed to see you brought before him—dead or alive. Though personally I think alive might be considerably more entertaining for everyone."
Just as Harry began to feel despair—
Whoosh—!
A sound of something cutting through air at tremendous speed suddenly rang out from somewhere behind the Death Eater.
The Death Eater instantly froze completely in place, his mocking laugh was cut off abruptly. A sharp branch gleaming with cold metallic light had pierced cleanly through the back of his skull from behind,.
Harry turned his head sharply in shock and saw an unexpected person... well... tree.
It was Flick! The small Treant!
The little Treant had apparently been hiding beneath the ground at some unknown point during the entire confrontation, moving silently through the earth, and the branch that had pierced straight through the Death Eater's skull was extending from Flick's small body.
However, when Harry's shocked gaze fell to the ground and registered the small, fresh hole in the earth near the sidewalk, he understood immediately with relief.
Flick had been planted right here in front of the Dursleys' house all along, disguised absolutely perfectly as an ordinary tree!
No wonder he'd found that tree by the door so strangely, naggingly familiar before.
Needless to say without any doubt, this was definitely Professor Westeros's doing.
After killing the Death Eater, Flick retracted the branch with a slick sound, pulling it back into his body. Blood and worse things dripped from it. Then he turned his wooden attention toward the remaining advancing Dementors.
He swung his branch-arms to attack the remaining dark creatures with enthusiastic vigor, trying to protect Harry.
But the Treant's physical attacks, however powerful they were against flesh and bone and normal enemies, had negligible to absolutely no effect at all on these incorporeal dark creatures.
The branches passed straight through the Dementors' tattered robed bodies as if through smoke or mist, unable to make physical contact or cause any substantial damage.
The Dementors continued their advance gliding closer across the ground, the surrounding temperature was plummeting even further until frost began forming on the grass. The atmosphere of utter despair and hopelessness grew thicker and more suffocating with each passing second.
No matter how desperately hard Harry tried, gritting his teeth against the overwhelming pain shooting up his arm, he couldn't make his slack right arm move even a fraction to reach his fallen wand lying there on the pavement just feet away.
At this most critical moment, when all seemed utterly lost and the Dementors were few feet away, the Dursleys' front door was suddenly flung open with a tremendous bang that made Harry flinch.
Vernon Dursley charged out onto the front step holding his brand-new hunting rifle in shaking hands. His large face was flushed red, and his legs were clearly trembling under him.
"Get away from here! You monsters! You freaks!" He shouted shakingly, raising the rifle to aim at the nearest hovering Dementor.
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