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Last of The Fae Chapter 137: British Ministry of Magic Auror Department Pt. 1
🕑 Added 2025-03-18 00:15:46 +0000 UTCThane’s silver light erupted, pouring out from his outstretched hands like liquid fire, flooding the corridor with an ethereal glow.
The light twisted and condensed, shifting into a writhing mass of silver vines, snaking along the walls, floor, and ceiling, embedding themselves like roots burrowing into stone.
A moment of stillness passed.
Then—
Chaos.
The Dementors at the front recoiled violently, their skeletal hands snapping back as though burned.
For the first time since their mindless charge, hesitation flickered within their hollow forms.
The very same energy that had lured them—the essence of Thane’s soul, his deepest, most profound emotions—had become the instrument of their destruction.
But it was too late.
In their eagerness to swarm him, the Dementors had bottlenecked themselves, packed tightly into the confined space of the train corridor.
The ones in the front, now paralyzed with fear, tried to flee—only to be shoved forward by the relentless tide of those still coming, unaware of the danger ahead.
The vines snapped forward.
Like whip-like tendrils, they lashed out, seizing the wraith-like creatures, coiling around them like living chains, slamming them against the walls, against each other, their incorporeal bodies writhing and twisting in silent agony.
A horrific wail shattered the silence.
Thane watched, fascinated, as the first Dementor convulsed violently, silver light pouring from its gaping, inhuman maw.
The glow built inside its hollow form, burning like a dying star, growing and growing until—
Implosion.
The creature collapsed inward, its very essence crushed into a single, flickering mote—
Then it was gone.
The vines didn’t stop.
The scene repeated itself, over and over, as the corridor became a slaughterhouse.
One by one, the Dementors were erased, their forms consumed by the overwhelming purity of Thane’s Patronus.
Before, he hadn’t even been able to see down the hallway, the wave of blackness too thick, too suffocating.
Now?
Gaps appeared.
And where the light touched, the Dementors could no longer exist.
A sudden, deafening shriek tore through the train, a collective cry of panic.
Then, as though guided by a single mind, the survivors turned—
And fled.
A black tide rushed toward the doors, the very same ones they had ripped apart to enter.
Thane watched them scramble over one another, their eagerness to escape almost comical.
For a brief moment, he considered closing off their exit, trapping them completely.
But then he sighed, rolling his shoulders.
"No need to antagonize the Ministry further."
He could already hear the complaints from the higher-ups—how he had massacred their "security measures," how "necessary precautions" had been reduced to nothing but whispers of shadow.
Best not to give them another reason to be angry.
That said—
He wasn’t going to let them all go.
As the last Dementors rushed toward freedom, Thane’s eyes locked onto one, lagging slightly behind.
Perfect.
With a twitch of his fingers, the silver vines lurched forward, yanking the straggler backward before it could escape.
The Dementor thrashed violently, its wraith-like form struggling against the living restraints.
But it was pointless.
Thane reached into his robes, pulling out a rounded mithril flask, its runes faintly pulsing with containment magic.
With a flick of his thumb, he undid the clasp—
And pointed the opening directly at the trapped wraith.
A violent vacuum force erupted, ripping through the air like a miniature vortex.
The Dementor opened its mouth, but its wail was stolen before it could form—its very essence being sucked away.
The vines released it, and the vacuum did the rest—tearing the Dementor out of the air, crushing it into a dense form, before sealing it within the flask.
Thane snapped the clasp shut.
The train fell silent once more.
He tucked the secured vial into his robes, patting it lightly.
"We’ll talk about your behavior later."
With a satisfied sigh, he dismissed his Patronus, the silver vines withering into nothing, their job complete.
His aura retracted, pulling back into himself like a beast returning to its slumber.
He turned, ready to head back to his compartment, then stopped as he felt space twist in the corridor, "Well that was fast."
The pop of Apparition cracked through the tense silence, and an Auror materialized onto the train, his wand already drawn, his face a mask of barely contained panic.
Thane could practically feel the fear radiating off him—the sheer terror of a man who had likely expected to find the lifeless bodies of children, victims of the Ministry’s colossal failure in controlling their own creatures.
"BMMAD—nobody panic! The situation is under—"
The Auror’s voice caught in his throat as his wide eyes swept across the corridor.
No Dementors.
No screaming students.
No lifeless bodies strewn across the floor.
Not even a trace of the soul-sucking wraiths that had just descended upon the train in a frenzied swarm.
Only curious eyes peeking out from behind compartment doors, their owners sensing that whatever danger had passed.
The Auror blinked.
"…Control?"
"Indeed, it is, officer, thanks to my quick thinking."
Thane turned smoothly, his expression unbothered, his voice carrying an air of complete authority as if he were speaking to an equal—or rather, someone beneath him.
The Auror’s head snapped toward him, disbelief flickering across his face.
"You… what?"
Thane sighed as if dealing with a particularly slow student.
"The Dementors got a bit overzealous and decided to swarm the train," he explained, tone polite, but patronizing. "Fortunately, I was here to intervene before any real harm could be done."
The Auror’s brow twitched. His grip on his wand tightened.
"You handled them?" he repeated, his tone carrying an edge of skepticism and outright disbelief.
"Correct."
The Auror scoffed. "Listen, kid—this isn’t the time to be joking around. You don’t understand the danger everyone on this train is in!"
Thane tilted his head, emerald eyes narrowing ever so slightly.
"How irritating."
"Was in," Thane corrected smoothly. "You seem to be struggling with the concept of past and present tense. Was in danger. As I’ve already stated—I handled it."
The Auror’s jaw clenched.
He opened his mouth, likely to argue—but then his eyes flickered across the corridor again.
Still no Dementors.
No one was injured.
No one was unconscious.
There was no screaming, no fear, no chaos—only students whispering amongst themselves, entirely unharmed.
The Auror hesitated.
His wand lowered slightly, uncertainty settling into his posture.
His training had prepared him for a disaster—not for a crisis that had already been resolved.
Thane took advantage of the pause.
"You should be more concerned about wrangling up the ones who managed to escape," he added, his voice carrying the subtle weight of a command, not a suggestion.
The Auror gritted his teeth, frustration boiling beneath the surface.
But he couldn’t argue.
Because Thane was right.
The Dementors were gone.
And he had no idea how.
"If that's all I'll be going now," Thane spoke into the silence as he moved to leave into his compartment.
"H-huh I-I mean FREEZE!!" The auror shouted and he pointed his wand at Thane who stared at the length of wood with a narrow gaze before looking up at its wielder.
"Are you telling me I'm not free to go, officer?" Thane asked and after a second the auror nodded.
"That's right, I-I'm doing an investigation on what happened here an you're a prime suspect!"
Thane grinned but there was nothing friendly about it, "Then if I'm not free to go then you must be arresting me. Are you arresting me officer?"
