The Hogwarts Express thundered northward, its carriages filled with the laughter and chatter of students returning for another year of magic. The summer sun had faded behind thick clouds, and the train's windows rattled as a strange, uneasy hush settled over the countryside. Sagar sat in his compartment, reviewing a stack of enchanted notes, his mind focused on the business of the coming term—new spells to master, alliances to forge, mysteries to unravel.
He barely noticed the shift at first: a subtle chill creeping along the corridor, the lights flickering as if the train itself shivered. The laughter faded, replaced by uneasy silence and the distant sound of something scraping along the outside of the carriage. Sagar's brow furrowed. This was no ordinary storm.
The door to his compartment slid open. Standing in the threshold was a figure draped in tattered, shadowy robes, its face obscured by a hood that seemed to swallow all light. The air grew colder still, and Sagar felt a prickling at the edge of his mind—a presence reaching, searching, trying to worm its way into his thoughts.
Demodar.
The Draining Presence
Sagar had heard legends of the Demodar—creatures that fed not on flesh or blood, but on happiness itself. Their very presence sapped the joy from the air, leaving only dread and despair. He watched as the being glided closer, its movements soundless, its aura oppressive.
At first, Sagar regarded the encounter as another piece of business—a problem to be solved, a threat to be assessed. He shielded his mind with practiced ease, letting the Demodar's influence slide off him like water off glass. But as the creature lingered, its draining ability intensified. The warmth of summer, the laughter of friends, even the memory of sunlight seemed to fade, replaced by a heavy, suffocating gloom.
Sagar's patience wore thin. He felt the creature's hunger gnawing at his defenses, trying to leech away the spark that made him who he was. The compartment darkened, the glass frosting over as if winter itself had invaded the train.
The Breaking Point
In the corridor, students began to slump in their seats, eyes rolling back as they fell into a deep, dreamless unconsciousness. Only Hermione, passing by with a stack of books, remained upright—her sharp mind and stubborn will keeping her on her feet, though she clung to the wall, shivering.
Sagar's irritation grew. He closed his notebook with a snap and stood, facing the Demodar squarely. The creature's hood turned toward him, empty and endless.
"Enough," Sagar said, his voice cold and commanding. "Can you stop that?"
The words rang out, echoing through the carriage. At that instant, the sky outside the train darkened to midnight. Thunder cracked overhead, and a dense, unnatural fog began to seep through the cracks in the windows, swirling around the train like ghostly tendrils. The very air vibrated with the force of Sagar's will.
The Demodar hesitated, its instinct sensing a power it could not comprehend. It tried to feed again, but Sagar's presence was like a wall of iron—unyielding, ancient, and filled with a wild, chaotic magic that defied all attempts to drain it.
Sagar stepped forward, his eyes blazing with a light that seemed to push back the shadows. "Leave. Now. Or face consequences you cannot imagine."
The Demodar could not understand Sagar's language, but some primal instinct screamed at it to flee. The fog thickened, swirling around the creature, and the thunder outside grew louder, as if the very sky was answering Sagar's command. The Demodar recoiled, its form flickering, and with a final, shuddering wail, it vanished into the mist—leaving the compartment eerily silent.
Aftermath
The fog began to dissipate, the thunder fading into a distant rumble. Slowly, the unconscious students began to stir, rubbing their eyes and shivering as warmth returned to the train. Only Hermione had witnessed the entire encounter, her eyes wide with shock and awe.
She stepped into the compartment, her voice trembling. "What… what was that? How did you do that?"
Sagar glanced at her, a faint smile playing at his lips. "Sometimes, you just have to remind the darkness who's in charge."
Hermione stared at him, trying to reconcile the boy she knew with the force she had just witnessed. She opened her mouth to ask more, but Sagar shook his head, gently. "Some things are better left a mystery, Hermione. For everyone's sake."
As the train sped on toward Hogwarts, the last traces of fog melted away. The students, none the wiser, returned to their conversations, the memory of the darkness already fading. But Hermione would not forget what she had seen.