Chapter 183: Dementors: Bro! I'm Your Soldier
Dylan left the thicket and walked back towards the castle with Harry and the others. With Malfoy injured, class was certainly over. Staying there any longer might even put them in danger.
Once the group had returned to the castle, the students dispersed. Dylan read in his dormitory for a while, and fed his pets and the creatures in his pet space that needed food.
He didn't head to the Great Hall until dinner time. However, he didn't see Hagrid at the staff table, nor did he see Malfoy. Dylan felt quite sympathetic towards the platinum-blonde's miserable fate.
He then loaded up his plate with several portions of fried pork chops, fried steaks, and fried chicken cutlets today, for some reason, he just craved fried food.
Before him lay fried oysters in an amber batter, oozing creamy white, each one imbued with the fine, salty aroma of sea mist. Tempura shrimp curled into golden-red crescents, their oily batter revealing the coral-red of the shrimp meat. Crunch. One bite, and juices flowed out, the sound as crisp as shattering jade.
By his hand were small potatoes coated in coarse breadcrumbs, gleaming like honey under the light, with melted Parmesan cheese oozing from their cuts. Dylan wrapped melted cheese around a fried cheese patty.
Inside the caramelized hard shell was Mascarpone cheese, outside dusted with powdered sugar, cinnamon, and vanilla seeds. He wrapped it again with cheese, then dipped it in sauce. The rich aroma of the meat, the fresh tang of seafood, the sweet fragrance of dairy products, all mingled with the unique toasted scent of deep-fried delights.
Dylan took a bite. It was so delicious he nearly took flight, his eyes narrowing in pure pleasure.
"Looks like I really need to trick an elf into becoming my chef. Harry said Dobby is apparently staying at Hogwarts for now..." As he ate, Dylan pondered how to trick he meant recruit Dobby or other house-elves.
"But if possible, I'd still like to get Dobby, the house-elf. His cooking is good, and he's quite powerful. He could easily help me discipline some of the creatures I keep in my space." He had mentioned this to Dobby last semester, but nothing ever came of it.
"Perhaps I should just ask old Dumbledore directly. Dobby's temporary stay at Hogwarts must have been with his consent."
Feeling the hot burst of meat juice between his teeth as he bit into the crispy fried pork chop, Dylan pondered, unconsciously tapping his silver knife against the white porcelain plate.
Clink.Clink.
The knife tip slid past a congealed strand of cheese, drawing a transparent sugar thread. There were many small, flaky crumbs on the plate, and Dylan stared absently at the light spots reflected on the knife's surface.
"Dylan, what are you thinking about?" Neville, sitting beside him, was drawn by Dylan's tapping sound.
"Hmm? Nothing, just thinking how good this food is." Dylan replied casually.
"Isn't it!" Neville smiled too, eating a piece of roasted pineapple Dylan had recommended to him. "I've never eaten like this at home, the texture is so new."
Dylan chuckled.
After finishing dinner, Dylan returned to his dormitory. Now, he finally had time to thoroughly examine the Dementors he had placed in his pet space.
During the interruption of class earlier, he had glimpsed them while feeding his pets and the Basilisk. These Dementors looked utterly terrified, not daring to run around, staying precisely where Dylan had instructed.
....
Upon entering his pet space, Dylan spotted them immediately. Because their presence might cause panic among other creatures in the space, Dylan had designated them to stay on a deserted island within the ocean ecosystem. All the creatures in the sea kept a wide berth from that area.
Dylan approached the desolate island, hovering above the seawater, and looked ahead. Above the island, lead-grey clouds hung like soaked shrouds, with fine ice crystals floating within the viscous gloom.
Seven rag-wrapped silhouettes writhed in mid-air, each translucent body exuding a tar-like black mist. Wherever they passed, the air would condense into frost flowers this was the Dementors' characteristic chill.
Places they inhabited always felt an eerie cold. The salty sea breeze swept over jagged reefs, and there were even decaying wooden structures on the island, glowing with eerie blue phosphorescence.
"How do Dementors create phosphorescence?" Dylan's interest was immediately piqued. He stepped onto the island.
Since establishing the ocean ecosystem, Dylan had placed all sorts of deceased creatures on this island. Most prominent were the dense swarms of cockroaches.
Next were some spiders and various strange insects. And then, a few goblins and some Cornish pixies. The Dementors' presence seemed to have no effect on these dead bodies they were already dead and had no souls.
Once Dylan transformed them into corpses, they would only act on instinct, besides obeying Dylan's commands and arrangements. Fortunately, these creatures didn't need to eat.
At most, they'd drink some of the corpse water from the central lake of the island, or rather... soak in it. Soaking in it allowed them to regain strength from the corpse water. After enabling the ecosystem, since it could constantly adjust and self-circulate, Dylan wasn't short on materials to bolster the corpse water.
Every day, at fixed times and locations, he'd have Norberta catch some leftover scraps or creatures and toss them into the lake in the center of this island.
Dylan observed the movements of the seven Dementors. They appeared relatively healthy, just not very lively. From time to time, they would drift around the dead bodies, attempting to kiss them. However, they found they couldn't extract anything from the corpses' mouths and eventually gave up.
The entire island, whether due to the Dementors' presence or the existing corpse-water lake and dead bodies, appeared unusually eerie. It looked like a very ghostly place, completely unlike somewhere a living being should land.
But Dylan felt nothing. He slightly raised his hand. Soul-Ejecting Charm magic emerged, wrapping around the Dementors.
Upon seeing Dylan land on the island, the seven Dementors on the island visibly panicked. Now controlled by Dylan's magic, none of them dared to resist.
At least for now, Dylan still appeared as a normal human wizard. They were terrified that if they resisted, this human wizard would transform into something even more horrifying than themselves.
As the Dementors approached, Dylan clearly felt the temperature around him drop further. The chill seemed to pierce his bones. "You're too close." Dylan frowned slightly. Seeing him appear to raise his wand, the seven Dementors immediately panicked, acting like soldiers on parade. They instantly took a step back, then stood at ease and lined up.
"Hmm, this distance is quite good, just right." Dylan nodded in satisfaction, slowly lowering his wand.
Phew~ The Dementors actually let out a human-like sigh of relief. A few Dementors watched Dylan cautiously. They didn't know why this human had captured them or what he intended to do. They dared not ask, nor could they. They could only silently stand in formation like raw recruits, waiting for Dylan to speak.
"Now, I'm going to give you names." The seven Dementors all looked over. Dylan returned their gaze. He first looked at the first Dementor. He raised his wand.
This Dementor immediately shuddered in fright. However, Dylan's wand merely made a slow circle in mid-air. Then, on the Dementor's cloak, near its chest, a mark appeared. It was the letter A.
"From now on, you are Little A. Do you understand what I'm saying?" The Dementor was already preparing to close its eyes. To its surprise, it only felt as if a magical mark had appeared on its body.
It opened its hollow eyes again, and a look of confusion appeared on its numb and terrifying face. The next moment, it saw Dylan frown. "Are you saying you don't understand human speech?"
Little A paused, then vigorously shook its head, then nodded repeatedly, its seemingly non-existent hands beneath its cloak fluttering back and forth, gesturing something towards Dylan. Dylan roughly understood what Little A was trying to convey.
"I knew it! You Dementors, logically speaking, even if you can't fully comprehend the meaning of language, you still possess your own intelligence, don't you?" Little A hastily nodded again.
Dylan chuckled lightly. "You've been driven by the Ministry of Magic for so long. Since you can follow their arrangements, I suppose you should now be able to understand the most basic meanings of language."
Dylan suddenly thought of something else. His gaze settled on Little A, making the Dementor's entire body prickle, wanting to fly away immediately. However, ever since it appeared here, it felt as if it had entered another world.
Everything it did here felt controlled and monitored, a pervasive sense of suppression! And facing a human wizard who was more terrifying than a Dementor itself, it wanted to flee but it truly dared not! It feared it wouldn't escape, and then would be captured again and mercilessly tortured. It didn't want to experience any of that again!
Yet, Dylan did nothing to it. Instead, he lifted his head. "Roar!" This was the Dragon Tongue he had automatically mastered after transforming into a Norwegian Ridgeback. It was essentially asking the Dementor if it understood his language.
The Dementor paused, finding it a bit odd that this question was being asked again after already being asked before, but it still nodded
bewilderedly in cooperation.
Dylan's eyes suddenly lit up, the corners of his eyes slightly upturned. Then, he narrowed his eyes, gently pursed his lips, and his throat vibrated softly. Immediately after, a string of sibilant, breathy hisses smoothly emerged. This was Parseltongue. And the Dementor nodded again.
This time, Dylan finally confirmed it. It wasn't just human wizarding language that Dementors could understand. They could even understand the languages of other creatures! Dylan instantly linked this to another matter.
If he used Soul-Snatched Speech on a Dementor, would he be able to directly master the languages of all creatures? Or at least, be able to understand what other creatures were saying. As for whether he could communicate with other creatures, that could be dealt with later.
"However, Soul-Snatched Speech requires extracting a creature's living soul, and Dementors, being non-beings, don't have souls." Dylan clucked his tongue and shook his head, sighing with regret.
Dylan stared at Little A, his gaze so fervent it seemed to pierce through the swirling, decaying mist. Perhaps the greed surging in Dylan's eyes
was simply too difficult to conceal. Little A's body shivered again. Its withered, claw-like fingers frantically pointed to the letter 'A' Dylan had marked on its body.
Wait, brother! Am I not already yours now? I'm Little A!
Dylan looked at its movements, pulled his thoughts back, and stroked his chin. "Seven Dementors... if I dealt with one, it shouldn't be too bad, right? If one could lead to a breakthrough in my research, I could also learn from the previous lesson when experimenting on the second Dementor, avoiding actually getting rid of the second one as well."
Dylan's ill-intentioned gaze shifted back and forth between Little A and the second Dementor. The second Dementor also quickly pointed to its chest. Bro! Give me a name too!
Smacking his lips, Dylan temporarily put that thought aside. He raised his wand again. Soon, Little B, Little C, Little D, Little E, Little F, Little G. Dylan had named all seven Dementors.
He had marked each Dementor with a dark magical symbol: A, B, C, D, E, F, G. After all, these were experimental subjects and prison guards he'd captured specifically to torment future captives. Dylan couldn't be bothered to give them elaborate names; simple and easy to remember like this was better.
"Your food is happiness. As beings born of despair and sorrow, how often do you need to feed?" Dylan's gaze fell on Little A. Dementors, as dark and evil non-living entities, need to feed on souls and happiness to maintain their existence. Upon hearing Dylan's question, Little A was silent for a moment, then suddenly raised one hand.
"One day?" Dylan eyed it suspiciously. "You're lying to me, aren't you? It's already been a day, and I haven't seen any of you disappear." Not to mention disappearing, each one's condition seemed quite good. They just looked a bit cowardly.
Little A shook its head vigorously at his words. Then it raised and lowered its arm repeatedly, doing so several times. Dylan's eyelid twitched. It was counting, it turned out. How... straightforward. He counted simply. He found that these Dementors could sustain themselves for a surprisingly long time without feeding on souls and happy memories.
Little A continued to raise and lower its hand, raise and lower... After repeating it thirty times, it finally stopped.
"They can actually survive for a month?" Dylan lightly tapped his index finger on his lips.
"The Ministry of Magic can't possibly know when Sirius Black will be captured, so sending Dementors to guard Hogwarts must be for the long haul." Therefore, the Ministry of Magic most likely prepared provisions for these Dementors.
Otherwise, wouldn't these ghastly creatures riot, potentially leading to the entire Hogwarts becoming their food? The Ministry of Magic naturally wouldn't do something so idiotic. Many of their officials have children attending school here, after all.
So, Dylan speculated that the Ministry of Magic must have arranged for some condemned prisoners. Alternatively, since the Dementors from Azkaban were already dispatched, bringing a few Azkaban prisoners along wouldn't be difficult.
After all, for the Ministry of Magic, hardly any prisoners in Azkaban were worthy of clemency. Those incarcerated were either Death Eaters, users of Unforgivable Curses, wizards who illegally used magic to harm others, or individuals who threatened world safety. Like Sirius Black, who was considered Voldemort's accomplice. And what Voldemort did hardly needs mentioning.
Let alone threatening world safety, he nearly overturned the entire world, including both the wizarding and Muggle communities, almost everyone!
In short, most of those locked up in Azkaban were dark wizards. The Ministry of Magic naturally wouldn't care if these prisoners' souls were completely consumed by the Dementors.
....
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