Chapter 184: Dementors: Bro
"Since the Ministry of Magic will prepare food for the Dementors, I don't need to specifically capture people and make them their designated food, do I?" Dylan stroked his chin, glancing at the seven Dementors standing at attention before him.
Then, a smile curled on his lips, his eyes glinting with what he intended as goodwill.
However, in the Dementors' eyes, this gaze was absolutely terrifying. It felt as though someone had turned their head to find a rabbit with a smile stretched almost to its ears grinning at them. The seven Dementors shivered again.
Dylan said gently, "Don't be so scared; I won't do anything to you." He continued, "Since one meal can sustain your existence for a whole month, I'll let you out usually."
No sooner had he finished speaking than the Dementors, who largely understood Dylan's meaning, froze in surprise. Dylan then shifted his tone. "However, if you try to take this opportunity to escape..."
Dylan's smile widened. "You've felt the marks on you, haven't you? Even if you flee to the ends of the earth, I'll find you. And if you make me waste my study time to hunt you down... Heheheh~"
Dylan's voice was laced with an icy tone, making the Dementors feel as though the air around them had grown even colder. Little A was the first to shake its head.
"Good, as long as you understand." Dylan smiled faintly.
Dementors couldn't just pop up inside Hogwarts. So, for Dylan to return these Dementors to the Ministry of Magic, he'd have to sneak out of Hogwarts sometime and make a trip to Hogsmeade Village to "return" the Dementors to the Ministry.
However, before doing that, Dylan planned to research how to combine summoning magic with the Dark Mark, as well as various other spells, to develop a way to directly summon these Dementors back to him.
"But a month, it's not long, but not short either. I'm afraid I won't be able to research this spell within a month." He mused, "After all, I have so many classes, and I still need to research the Time-Turner. That's a higher priority than dealing with these Dementors."
"As for what happens if I don't manage it within a month..." A figure suddenly popped into Dylan's mind. "Ron's rat has already been refused treatment by Madam Pomfrey, which is normal. That idiot makes Ron bring it to the Hospital Wing every other day; who can stand it?"
When Dylan tried to attack Scabbers with a spell, he left no visible marks not even internal injuries. At most, he just tormented it on a mental level nothing more. So how could Madam Pomfrey possibly find anything?
Madam Pomfrey later told Ron that his rat was most likely just feigning pain to get its owner's attention. She even scolded Ron, telling him to pay more attention to his pet. This left Ron feeling down for quite a while.
If he didn't care about his pet, would he be taking Scabbers to the Hospital Wing every day? He even thought the rat, which had been passed down for three generations, was going to die in his hands! He'd been so worried; how could he not care about his pet?
Later, Ron found that his rat didn't appear to be in pain as frequently as it initially did. So he stopped bothering Madam Pomfrey. However, occasionally, Scabbers would still squeal in pain, and Ron had no idea why.
Even if Madam Pomfrey told him not to, he'd still bring it to the Hospital Wing to check its condition. Although Madam Pomfrey had told Ron not to bring his pet over anymore, when he actually did, she couldn't possibly turn him away.
She would just examine it, still finding nothing, and then keep the rat in the Hospital Wing for a few days to monitor its condition before returning it to Ron once it was better.
"Dementors can also feed on the happy memories of other living beings, but highly intelligent species are rare, and the strength of intelligence clearly indicates a difference in memories." It was precisely because human emotions are the most intense among all creatures that the Dementors' favorite food naturally became human memories and souls after all, they themselves were born from human despair and suffering.
"Peter Pettigrew looks like a rat on the surface, but he's actually a human. If I could occasionally borrow Peter Pettigrew from Ron's hands..." Dylan chuckled. Then, even if he didn't return these Dementors to the Ministry of Magic, they wouldn't be short of food.
Dylan stood there, pondering his immediate tasks. The seven Dementors remained perfectly still, standing quietly before Dylan, sharing his "punishment."
"To fully understand the working principles of the Time-Turner, I need to further master more advanced Alchemy." He continued, "Besides that, I also need to research Dementor summoning magic." He wasn't worried about the progress of his various subjects or homework, but if he was really going to ask old Dumbledore to teach him alchemy, he'd best master Goblin Fire as well. "And then there are my various experiments, and my acquisition of new knowledge."
Hmm... He felt like his time for rest was becoming increasingly scarce. With a slight sigh, Dylan pursed his lips. "It's a good thing Lupin doesn't need a Wolfsbane Potion every day or week; I only need to brew one before each full moon."
While researching various spells and experiments would lead to less leisure time, Dylan didn't feel tired or bored. On the contrary, it was precisely because he was interested in these things that he was willing to spend his time and energy on them. To come to such a magical world, how could one not feel excited and immerse oneself in it?
Dylan took a light step, and he floated up. Then he left the isolated island, crossed the ocean, and arrived at the small wooden cabin at the forest's edge.
"Moooo!" Coal came running over. Norberta also flapped her wings and landed on the ground. Dylan tossed them some food. Then he opened the small storeroom door behind the wooden cabin.
Creak. Gilderoy Lockhart was curled in a corner. He had been like this all day. Dylan didn't know if it was because he had brought the Dementors in here.
At this moment, the sky in the pet space had also grown dark, just like outside. Moonlight seeped through the crooked wooden planks of the storeroom, weaving spiderweb-like silver patterns on Lockhart. He was curled up in a somewhat moldy pile of straw, repeatedly carving his name into the mud floor with a dry twig.
Seeing Dylan push the door open, he stopped, looking up, a sliver of clarity mixed with the muddiness in his eyes. "The book signing... has it started?" Lockhart fumbled to get up.
Dylan raised an eyebrow. Was this fellow remembering something? Or had he been locked up here for so long that he'd gone a bit mad? However, it wasn't Dylan's research time; he wanted to go out and read a bit more, so he didn't pay too much attention to Lockhart's condition, merely tossing him a few pieces of bread.
Lockhart saw the bread, and his mouth watered at the rich aroma wafting through the air. He lunged, hugging the loaves to his chest, chewing voraciously.
"...Didn't I give you food just this afternoon? You look like I've been treating you horribly." Lockhart looked up, just grinning foolishly at Dylan.
"..." Dylan rolled his eyes. After a moment's thought, listening to Lockhart's contented gurgles as he ate, he watched him finish the last bite of bread, his fingertips unconsciously picking at the breadcrumbs on the floor.
Dylan smacked his lips. "Perhaps I should let him walk around outside. Always being cooped up here, even if his soul remains, he'll still become as numb as a living corpse."
With that thought, Dylan lightly raised his wand. "Imperius Curse." The spell swiftly invaded Lockhart's brain. His movements stiffened, and like a puppet on strings, he followed Dylan out of the wooden storeroom.
Swish. Just then, a shadowy figure gracefully leaped down from a treetop, landing steadily on Dylan's shoulder.
"Moo~"
"Why aren't you eating?" Dylan chuckled softly.
Whoosh. The sound of wind swept by. A Norwegian Ridgeback, now quite large, also landed beside Dylan.
"Watch him." Dylan instructed Coal and Norberta. "Let him move around more often. Before, you two were lazy and let him wander off, and he almost became a goblin's concubine. I don't want to control someone who's lost their backend chastity, understood?"
As Dylan finished speaking, night mist, tinged with the salty scent of the sea, drifted in. Lockhart was now slumped in front of Norberta's dragon claw. Coal groomed her fur, her movements elegant, glancing at Dylan and nodding.
"Moo!" Seeing them agree so readily, Dylan narrowed his eyes and tossed two more meat strips to Coal and Norberta each.
"Alright, I'm going out now. Don't let him wander off." With that, Dylan's figure flashed, disappearing from the pet space.
When he emerged from his briefcase, he was about to continue reading for a while. But as soon as he came out, he found that all his dormitory mates had returned. And Harry and Ron weren't on their own beds; instead, they were with Neville and Seamus.
The four were sitting in a circle. Dylan heard a very strange laugh coming from among them it sounded a bit like a cat laughing. Dylan's eyebrow involuntarily twitched.
"Dylan, come quick." Neville was half-lying on his bed, noticed Dylan's appearance, and immediately beckoned him over.
"What are you laughing at?" Dylan walked over, surveying the surroundings of the four. "Did you get another cat in the dorm?"
Neville grinned, shaking his head happily, and told Dylan, "No, that's Harry laughing."
"Harry laughing?" Dylan was even more puzzled. He walked over and sat on Neville's bed. Harry and Ron were both sitting on Seamus's bed. Just then, Dylan noticed a small box of sweets by Neville's bed.
"This is?"
"Voice-Changing Sweets!" Neville chuckled.
"Meow meow meow meow meow!" Harry opened his mouth, but a string of cat meows came out.
"You're..." Seamus stood up at this point. He walked over to Dylan, took a sweet from the small box. The sweet had no wrapper, it could be eaten directly. Dylan watched Seamus eat the sweet, then two red feathers sprouted from the top of his head they looked like bird or chicken feathers.
Seamus suddenly grinned, revealing two rows of white teeth.
"Cluck-cluck-cluck-AH!"
A raucous crowing sound emerged. Seamus, wearing socks, stepped onto his own bed, his left hand cupped into a beak shape, resting at his lips, his knuckles naturally curled to mimic the curve of a chicken's foot.
His right hand grasped the back hem of his robe and lifted it up. The fabric puffed out, looking like a chicken's tail fanned behind him. He slightly hunched his back, extended his neck, and shook his head from side to side. And the sound he made was almost exactly like a chicken's crow.
"These are things George and his brother made," Neville explained. "I heard they put a lot of effort into them."
"And the first box of sweets they gave to us!" Ron announced, tilting his head back proudly.
"The first box?" Dylan's mouth twitched.
"Yes! The first box!" Ron beamed with pride.
"(*._.)ノ｜" How did the Weasleys end up with such a dunce.
"I don't think that's anything to be proud of, is it? If it's the first box, have Fred and George actually confirmed the sweets' effects? You haven't been their first wave of test subjects, have you?" Dylan looked at the four of them, "Just like those white mice we catch in Transfiguration class."
The happy expressions on the four boys' faces immediately froze.
"I don't think there's anything wrong, Harry and Seamus both ate them." Ron hesitated.
Neville blinked, then suddenly realized, "It's your turn next, Ron. You try it first. I'll try after you."
Ron: "Uh... okay." Ron swallowed, looking at the box of sweets Neville was holding out to him.
"Cluck-cluck-AH!"
"Meow meow meow!"
Harry and Seamus sounded like they were urging Ron to hurry. Ron gritted his teeth, grabbed a sweet, and was about to pop it into his mouth. Dylan looked, and immediately noticed that the sweet in Ron's hand seemed a little different from the others. He was about to speak up and warn him, but Ron had already swallowed the sweet.
"..." Dylan leaned back.
The next moment, Ron suddenly let out a burp.
"WHOO !"
A loud steam train whistle suddenly erupted from Ron's mouth. Steamy vapor, sweet-scented, even billowed from between his teeth. Even a thin, silvery-grey smoke column wafted from the top of Ron's head, condensing into a miniature cloud under the chandelier.
The dormitory instantly fell silent. Harry's mouth was agape. Seamus's eyes were wide. After five seconds of deadly silence, Dylan's soft chuckle was the first to break it.
Then, Neville slapped his thigh, collapsing in laughter onto the pile of pillows. Ron frantically covered his mouth, but air hissed out through his fingers as if leaking. He just let go, wanting to explain.
"WHOO!!!" A louder whistle suddenly blasted. It shook the Quidditch poster on the wall, making it tremble.
"Hahahahaaha!" Seamus clutched his stomach, rolling directly onto the floor. Neville laughed, pounding the mattress. Harry tightly covered his mouth with one hand, not wanting to laugh at his good friend, but he simply couldn't stop his muffled giggles.
Dylan also found it hard to hold back his laughter. True to form for the Weasley twins. Their tricks were truly endless. A Voice-Changing Sweet could even produce the sound of a train whistle.
"I saw that sweet was big, I wanted to warn you, but sorry, you ate too fast..." Moonlight streamed diagonally through the tower window, illuminating Ron's beet-red face. He clutched the golden-red lion crest on his bedsheets, his nose still damp with condensed steam, looking exactly like a steam locomotive under a Stunning Spell.
"WHOO !" He opened his mouth, and another whistle sounded.
"Hahahahaha!" The others were laughing uncontrollably. Ron, now with a dark expression, offered the box of sweets to Dylan. Dylan looked at the few remaining sweets in the small box, blinking.
Neville paused beside him, quickly saying, "I think we should stop here. Who knows what strange sound the next sweet will make."
"WHOO!!" Ron opened his mouth. He pointed to his own mouth with his other finger. The implied meaning was, who could make a stranger sound than him?
Dylan chuckled. Finding the Voice-Changing Sweets amusing, he picked up a blue one and held it between his fingers. He wondered where the Weasley twins got so many crazy ideas.
But then again... "Experiments need some wild ideas. Sometimes my research ideas might still be too conservative. In this regard, I really should learn from the Weasley twins. I need to be bolder in the future; maybe then some unique ideas will pop up."
Under the expectant and curious gazes of the others, Dylan ate the sweet. He opened his mouth, and a sound that could only be described as profoundly hān hòu (- honest and simple, but also a bit clumsy/foolish) emerged.
"Mooooo~~!"
....
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