Chapter 70: Slytherin plus ten
When Harry Potter woke up in his seat, the train to Hogwarts had already started moving again.
As the seat vibrated, he reached out to push his glasses, which were gradually sliding down, back up his nose and found Hermione and Draco squatting beside him, staring at him.
"Are you okay?" Hermione asked concernedly.
"Nothing," said Harry, climbing quickly from his chair and trying to look at the door.
"What happened?" he asked in a puzzled tone.
From the moment the Dementors entered the compartment, he lost awareness of his surroundings.
He seemed to have entered another dark space, filled with screams, coldness, and fear.
Hermione carefully observed his expression and briefly told him everything that had just happened.
"I'm sorry I didn't wake Professor Lupin in time..." he muttered.
"It's okay. Eat something." Draco stuffed something into his hand.
Harry took it numbly, ate it without a second thought, and was surprised to feel a surge of warmth rush to the tips of his fingers and toes.
After a while, the boy who was eating chocolate finally came to his senses and asked confusedly, "So, who is screaming?"
"Nobody's screaming," said Ron worriedly, as he led his sister Ginny and Neville into the compartment.
Ginny's face looked just as bad as Harry's. Neville was swaying, looking very stiff. They both had a piece of chocolate stuffed into their hands by Hermione, and they ate it listlessly.
"But I heard screaming—" Harry looked around.
"Remember what I told you at Grimmauld Place?" Draco said wearily. "Dementors awaken a wizard's darkest memories."
Harry's face darkened. He said nothing, frowning as he quietly finished the rest of his chocolate. Hermione and Ron looked at him worriedly.
"Since you are all fine, I'm leaving." Draco slowly stood up, straightened his wizard robe, nodded at them, and walked out of the compartment.
The corridor was completely cleared of its previous gloom and depression.
The lights that had been extinguished had all come back to life, and now they were so bright that they almost blinded Draco. He walked forward in the shadows, his eyes downcast, feeling exhausted.
At this moment, a voice called him from behind.
"Draco, are you sure you're okay?"
It's Hermione.
Draco stopped and looked back at her blankly.
She was looking at him with a frown on her face, her expression extremely worried. "I see you still don't look well."
Draco couldn't help but be impulsive for once and reached out to touch her furry head. "I'm fine. Your chocolate worked well."
Hermione hadn't expected him to touch her hair so suddenly. But she didn't shy away. She was more worried about his mental state than dwelling on these vague things.
"If you feel uncomfortable, tell me immediately," she tilted her head slightly to accept his touch. She didn't show any anger at being treated like a little animal. Instead, she just kept reminding him, "Don't endure or hold it in."
Draco nodded, feeling inwardly pleased that she hadn't refused his head pat.
"This is the first time I've seen someone cast a Patronus Charm. You're amazing." Hermione said curiously.
She found herself always wanting to talk to him.
Looking at his slightly tired eyes, she felt as if there was a gray rime condensed in them, which was beautiful and cold, complex and desolate.
Whenever this happened, she always wanted to say something to him to distract him from the beauty.
"It's a shame I didn't cast it well enough," Draco sighed, regretting, "I've only just started practicing this spell. I learned a little from my mother at the end of the summer vacation."
"Can you teach me?" Hermione asked enviously. "I hate the feeling of being controlled by Dementors. It's like being sick, like -"
She hesitated and secretly swallowed the other half of the sentence.
It wasn't just that she hated the feeling of being dominated.
She hated the fact that she couldn't do anything and could only hide behind him.
She felt powerless, frustrated, and angry that he had stood before her alone against something so horrible, and she had been unable to help him.
"Of course." Draco lowered his hand that was stroking her hair, feeling a little frustrated by the less than successful Patronus Charm.
"Anytime—as long as you don't mind that I'm a half-baked person." He said sadly.
"Of course not. We can study it together." Hermione said with interest.
He searched for a hint of sincerity in her eyes, and finally a faint smile appeared at the corner of his mouth.
"Okay," he said.
Hermione smiled along with him, her expression less worried.
"I don't think I've thanked you yet...you stood in front of me and protected me." She said to him, her cheeks flushing slightly pink.
"Pleasure." Draco said with satisfaction, feeling a long-lost happiness that Hermione Granger was not hurt in front of him.
Hermione certainly didn't know what was going on in his mind.
To her, his expression seemed somewhat happy, somewhat distant, even somewhat sad and melancholy, which was really confusing.
Each of them had their own thoughts. They looked at each other silently, and then unconsciously looked at the window beside them at the same time - it was opposite the compartment door, on the other side of the train.
It was windy and rainy outside the window, but it was warm as spring inside the train.
It was as if those dark creatures had never attacked the train.
But the terrifying impression of the dark creature had already been imprinted in their hearts.
"Draco, will those Dementors... come to Hogwarts?" Hermione asked hesitantly.
"They won't enter the school," Draco said softly, staring at her face reflected in the window. "They'll be stationed outside Hogwarts until they catch Peter Pettigrew."
Hermione looked relieved, though her gaze after him was still tinged with worry.
When Draco returned to his compartment, Crabbe and Goyle were sitting there eating the last of a packet of Beebe's Every Flavour Beans. On the table before them sat an empty small suitcase.
"We didn't keep it all for ourselves. We gave the chocolates to other students." Goyle explained quickly when he saw Draco glancing at him.
"I know." Draco didn't glare at him, but praised him instead. "Ron told me. It's surprising that you didn't fight while handing out chocolates."
"That red-haired Weasley kid!" Crabbe muttered. "Now that he's said 'thank you' to me, I should show some grace—"
"That's how you should think. Keep it up." Draco yawned tiredly and sat down on the comfortable seat for a nap.
They didn't rest for long before the train arrived at Hogsmeade station.
Perhaps because they had just been searched by Dementors, the students were extremely chaotic as they got off the bus. It looked more like a group of people fleeing than a group of students preparing for school.
Draco stood at the carriage door and saw Hermione in the distance. She was running towards the carriage in the rain behind Harry and Ron, holding Ron's sister, Ginny Weasley, by the hand.
These Gryffindors! Always so reckless!
Draco frowned, looking at the brown figure going away, then looking at the cramped platform beside him with the cold wind blowing on his face, and the heavy rain above his head that chilled him to the bone, and he felt terrible.
On the platform, Blaise Zabini and Pansy Parkinson were arguing again, shouting loud enough for him to hear from a distance.
"Okay, stop arguing." Draco walked over and said lazily, "You have a whole school year to argue. Let's go to the castle first."
So the black-eyed chickens, judging the situation, chose to temporarily cease fighting and followed Draco to the rough muddy path and headed towards the carriage. They met Theodore Nott on the road and got into the same carriage.
As soon as they got on the bus, a faint smell of mold and straw made the boys wrinkle their noses in displeasure.
Pansy couldn't stand the smell, so she sprayed some perfume into the carriage, and the result was that the mixed smell became even more complicated and unpleasant.
"Please, spare me!" Draco said wearily, sneezing at the sweet smell of powder.
Pansy shrugged, put away her perfume bottle, and let her eyes fall on the snake pattern ring on his finger.
"Ring! Draco, who gave you this?" Pansy showed a sneaky, gossipy expression like a puppy.
"I bet it's one of Draco's admirers," Blaise grinned, revealing his white teeth. "It must be a young girl who's just starting to fall in love."
"Why aren't you guys arguing anymore?" Draco said, trying to change the subject. "I don't mind if you keep arguing."
"No, we're done arguing," Pansy said with interest. "Aren't we, Blaise?"
"That's right." Blaise and Pansy looked at each other and smiled maliciously. Suddenly, they turned from sworn enemies into teammates who shared the same hatred.
"Tell me, what's going on? Is it a token of love?" Pansy asked meaningfully.
"Shut up, this is just a birthday present." Draco glared at them fiercely, but a blush appeared on his face. "Anyone who asks again will be drinking poisoned pumpkin juice."
"Okay, don't make it hard on him, Pansy. There's no need for you to miss dinner because of this. We'll find out who it is sooner or later anyway." Blaise said with a smile, "Draco, I heard that you cast a Patronus Charm to drive away the Dementors?"
"My Patronus Charm isn't that strong. Someone else finally drove off the Dementors," Draco said absently.
"Come on, the news has spread all over the car. Crabbe and Goyle told us when they were handing out chocolates," said Pansy.
"Why do you choose to believe the language expression ability of these two 'brilliant minds'?" Draco said helplessly, holding his forehead.
"Anyway, thank you for the chocolate," Theodore Nott said for the first time.
Draco nodded to Theodore, ignored the other two gossipers, and began to watch the movements outside the carriage.
At this time, carriages were queuing up and driving towards two magnificent wrought iron gates, and two gloomy and terrifying Dementors were standing guard at the door.
Through the rain, he saw the disturbing little brown head sticking out of the small window of the carriage in front, as if gazing at the turrets and towers of Hogwarts.
What a reckless girl! Aren't you afraid of Dementors? Aren't you afraid of catching a cold? Draco suddenly felt a toothache.
Draco finally breathed a sigh of relief when the carriage in front of him passed through the gate safely and entered the campus.
Amidst the noise, the students got off the carriage, walked up the stone steps, passed through the majestic oak door, and entered the spacious and deep entrance hall.
In the hall, burning torches drove away the chill brought by the rain. Draco, hungry, followed the crowd toward the Great Hall when he heard a stern voice calling his name.
"Potter! Granger! And Malfoy! I need to see you three right now!"
Draco turned around and saw Professor McGonagall, the Head of Gryffindor House, shouting at them over their heads.
She had a serious expression, her hair tied in a tight bun, and sharp eyes peered through square glasses.
"Are you okay?" Blaise asked him with a smile, but there was a hint of worry in his eyes.
"It's okay. Go and save a seat for me first." Draco casually put his hands in the pockets of his wizard robe, smiled indifferently at Blaise and the others, and motioned them to go first.
Harry and Hermione also pushed their way through the crowd toward him, their faces filled with foreboding. Ron, looking particularly uneasy in the crowd, was staring at them with wide eyes. Harry waved hurriedly at Ron.
"There's no need to be so nervous. I just want to talk to you in my office," Professor McGonagall said to them seriously. She quickly led them through the hall, up the marble stairs, and finally opened the door of a small, warm office in the corridor.
This is Professor McGonagall's office.
They filed in and stood side by side before Professor McGonagall as she said:
"Professor Lupin sent an owl ahead to explain what was happening on the train—"
Before she could finish, she was interrupted by a soft knock on the door.
"Come in," said Professor McGonagall.
The next second, Madam Pomfrey, the school nurse, rushed in like a flash. Without saying a word, she immediately looked Harry over and over.
"I've complained to Professor Dumbledore a long time ago! Sending Dementors near the school is risky, isn't it, Minerva?" She complained loudly to Professor McGonagall while checking Harry's forehead and pulse neatly, making a fuss as if he were a weak and unable to take care of himself.
Harry was clearly confused and embarrassed by what he was going through - his face was flushed red - and he looked like he was about to explode with anger.
But Madam Pomfrey was always very strong when she met someone she thought was a patient; even Professor McGonagall could not easily reject her professional opinion, let alone a third-year student like Harry?
"Potter, you have to let her examine you," said Professor McGonagall grimly. "She will have to tell Professor Dumbledore the results shortly."
As soon as Madam Pomfrey rushed in, Draco and Hermione had wisely stepped back together, trying to pretend that they didn't exist; as Madam Pomfrey and Professor McGonagall circled around Harry, Draco noticed that Hermione's hair was wet with rain from outside.
So he secretly took up his wand from behind his back, shook it, and cast a drying spell on her.
"What are you doing?" Hermione turned her head suddenly, her brown pupils dancing with the warm light of the fire, staring at him without blinking.
"Being caught in the rain is not good for a lady's health." Draco's lips moved slightly, and his platinum bangs drooped down, covering the complex look in his eyes.
She is so careless and doesn't care about her own health. Sooner or later she will catch a cold, he thought angrily.
Hermione gave him a belated smile.
By this time, Madam Pomfrey had finished examining Harry. As if remembering something, she rushed over, grabbed Draco, and began to check his pulse—now it was his turn to suffer.
Draco felt completely lost, and his cheeks grew hot as he heard Hermione and Harry chuckle beside him.
"I heard from Mr. Potter that you distributed chocolates to everyone." Madam Pomfrey said approvingly as she examined him. "That was very appropriate. You are very talented in healing and Defense Against the Dark Arts."
Draco gave her an awkward but polite smile.
"It's no big deal. I've already eaten the chocolate. A good night's rest should be fine. However, I see that you don't look well. It seems that you are still not getting enough sleep." Madam Pomfrey checked his eyes and asked him, "Do you need some more dreamless sleeping potion?"
"It's okay. Thank you." Draco prevaricated - he noticed Hermione's curious glance - and hurriedly said to Madam Pomfrey, "I have no problem sleeping. It might be a side effect of the Dementors."
"Perhaps," said Madam Pomfrey doubtfully. "Normally, children that age wouldn't have trouble sleeping. It's usually people who overthink—"
"Thank you," Draco interrupted her. "It's really not necessary."
Madam Pomfrey shook her head and said nothing more. She opened the door with a grumble and went back to the hospital wing.
"I don't understand. I didn't faint. Why do you have to check me?" Draco complained ramblingly and glanced at Hermione who was lost in thought beside him.
"Professor Snape asked me to do that, Mr. Malfoy. It's because you cast the Patronus Charm. For a young wizard of your age, this is a very difficult spell and it is very likely to cause you to run out of mana and collapse." Professor McGonagall said, pursing her lips sternly.
"Professor McGonagall, he was trying to protect us. The situation was critical—" Hermione hurriedly explained for him.
"Yeah..." Harry echoed.
"This is a very risky act! Normally, the school doesn't allow students to use magic outside of school! This kind of behavior should be punished. Moreover, if you rashly cast a spell before you fully master it, it will cause great harm to yourself." Professor McGonagall said with a stern face, "I must tell Professor Dumbledore about this. At the same time, the school will write to inform your parents."
Draco hung his head and remained silent.
His mother would surely be worried about this, he thought anxiously.
"However, in the face of danger, Mr. Malfoy showed a fearless spirit to protect his classmates, and took appropriate measures to provide treatment and help to the students around him. Slytherin deserves a thumbs up." Hearing this, Draco looked up in surprise and saw Professor McGonagall smiling at him.
People say that Professor McGonagall is a strict and fair professor.
But everyone has preferences. She was obviously 10% more gentle with Gryffindor students and even more rude with Slytherin students.
Therefore, it was as difficult for a Slytherin to get her extra points and smile as it was for a Gryffindor to get Professor Snape's favor.
"Of course, this doesn't mean that 'casting spells outside of school' is something to be encouraged. We have decided to reserve the right to record your 'casting spells outside of school' this time." Professor McGonagall frowned again and said to him, "I hope you will learn from this."
Draco nodded silently.
Harry was confused. He asked Hermione, "What does this mean?"
"Oh, so what I mean is that, because there was a reason for it, Draco will be given a verbal warning for 'casting a spell outside of school', but there won't be a written warning." Hermione whispered, breathing a sigh of relief. "There won't be a written record of violating the 'Reasonable Restraint of Underage Wizards Act', which is a good thing."
Hermione's explanation was correct.
Draco had been secretly worried about this matter, and only now did he feel relieved.
Before he could relax for long, he and Harry were driven out into the corridor, leaving Professor McGonagall and Hermione to have a private chat about "class timetable arrangements" and the like.
None of them left first, and they stood outside the door together waiting for Hermione to come out.
Harry seemed to be a little worried. He lowered his head and stared at the ground, not knowing what he was thinking about.
"Hey, don't be so discouraged." Draco kicked Harry's shoes with his toes and said soothingly, "There's no shame in fainting in front of a Dementor. It just means you're stronger."
"What do you mean by that?" Harry looked up at him, his face still a little depressed. "Are you making a bad joke?"
"Fainting doesn't mean you're weak. I guess the Dementors affect you more than others because you've suffered more than others." Draco asked in a low voice, "You said you heard a scream. Whose scream was it?"
Harry lowered his head again.
"It was a woman's scream," he said glumly. "I think it might have been my mother. It was the scream when she died—"
"Oh—" Draco said dryly, his lips turning pale.
"I heard her say, 'Don't touch Harry.'" Harry's voice was like shattered glass.
After a pause, Draco organized his words and said, "She must love you very much. She is willing to sacrifice herself to protect you."
"Yes. I believe so," Harry whispered. "That was the first time I ever heard her speak. The only time."
Draco was speechless.
What should he say at this time?
"I'm sorry about this," he said, feeling for the first time that words were so powerless.
After a pause, Harry spoke again, his tone tinged with envy, "I saw your mother hugging you goodbye on the platform. She—loved you very much, didn't she?"
"Yes. I think so." Draco was stunned for a moment, then said sincerely, "She is a good mother. And your mother, I think the same. They are both mothers who love their children, and they love us in their own way."
His mother, Narcissa - she was even willing to give her wand to her son, and faced the Dark Lord and the Death Eaters at Malfoy Manor unarmed.
Mother's love.
Even though they are in different camps and have different positions, they have something in common - they all love their children with all their heart.
Draco couldn't even imagine what he would be like if he lost his mother's love.
He might have died long ago.
In the situation in his previous life, he would have collapsed and turned to dust long ago.
At this moment, Draco suddenly realized that he had been much luckier than Harry.
Harry grew up without his mother's company and grew up like an orphan. He lived with relatives who hated Muggles and even lived in a cupboard. He was poorly clothed and suffered abuse. However, he grew up carefree and in great comfort at Malfoy Manor.
The only voice of his mother that Harry remembers in his life is the painful memory that he was forced to remember under the influence of the Dementors, and the wailing before she was murdered; but he has always had his mother's company and love. For him, "being loved by his mother" is as simple and natural as eating and dressing.
Draco couldn't imagine that if he were in Harry's position - such a poor life, such a loveless environment - he would probably have collapsed long ago.
"They'll probably laugh at me," Harry said to him now, with a wry smile, "fainting or something."
Draco gave Harry a forced smile, a pale, tragic one.
Because he suddenly remembered that he was not in a good mood when he faced the Dementors.
If Hermione hadn't called his name in his ear, if her warm arms hadn't put their arms around him, giving him a little courage that came from nowhere, there might have been another person fainting in that compartment.
Maybe now it would be him and Harry who would be worried about how to deal with the students' ridicule.
"Harry, listen, no one has the right to laugh at you." Draco said with difficulty, "If they had gone through what you have been through, how many people could be as kind, optimistic and strong as you? You are already very brave. None of this is your fault. It was the Dementors who triggered your painful memories."
Draco wasn't lying, he meant it sincerely.
"Thank you." Harry sniffed and finally raised his eyes to look at Draco - they were wet as if it had just rained. "I finally understand what you said. Those Dementors are the most terrible things in the world."
At this moment, Hermione, who was showing joy, and Professor McGonagall, who remained serious, opened the door, bringing Draco and Harry's conversation to an abrupt end.
"Draco, Harry, let's go to dinner!" She said to them with a smile on her face, as if she had encountered some great news. "I can't wait to see what dishes are for dinner!"
"What did you talk about?" Draco asked Hermione casually as they followed Professor McGonagall towards the Great Hall. "Why are you so happy all of a sudden?"
"It's a secret." Hermione said with a mysterious smile, "You can't tell me."
Draco glanced at her, his mood becoming even lower than before.
Did Hermione Granger, who loved being honest, now have a little secret she wouldn't tell him? Draco suddenly felt an inexplicable sadness and a faint sense of self-loathing.
—Yeah, why should she tell him? He thought lazily, following everyone into the auditorium.
The Sorting Ceremony is over.
Professor McGonagall strode towards the staff table; Harry and Hermione went to the Gryffindor table together; Draco sighed and walked alone to the Slytherin table.
Brace did save a seat for him.
Before he even sat down, the Slytherin students gave him a spontaneous round of applause. He glanced at Blaise with a slightly surprised look on his face; the latter whispered to him with an excited expression, "Your Patronus Charm—the whole carriage knows it."
Draco understood.
No wonder so many students from this college and other colleges saluted him at the same time, he thought with boredom.
He sat down with dignity, forcing a smile at the students around him. He wasn't in the mood for socializing; a gloomy mood was sweeping through him like a tornado.
Perhaps it was the aftereffects of facing the Dementors, or perhaps it was because Hermione Granger, who had always been frank and straightforward with him, began to hide something from him.
In fact, he didn't even feel like eating at that moment. He wanted to get back to his private chambers at the bottom of the Black Lake and exile himself to his four-poster bed where he could escape from everything and die.
"Draco, don't be so listless," Blaise said calmly. "So many people are watching you. You have to show them what a Slytherin third-year who can cast the Patronus Charm looks like. As the first person to add ten points to the house this school year, you have to stand up straight and maintain the good image of a Slytherin."
"Of course," Draco said wearily.
He had to appear composed and maintain his elegant posture at the table, sitting as still as a pathetic mascot.
At this moment, he found that Marcus Flint, the captain of the Snake Academy, was sitting across from him at the table. His face was so gloomy that water could drip out of it.
"He doesn't look very happy," he said to Blaise, almost whispering.
"He's been held back. He failed a class." Blaise put his hand over his nose unnoticeably, hiding the movement of his mouth.
Draco nodded friendly at Marcus; Marcus nodded back, his expression softening a little.
At Blaise's persuasion, Draco ate something tasteless.
He ignored Dumbledore's long-winded speech about Dementors and new staff - he was tired of hearing it in his past life - and turned his bored eyes to Professor Snape's desk, and suddenly noticed that his face was twitching and full of hatred.
This was a detail Draco hadn't noticed in his previous life.
Even Harry, who had blown up the cauldron, had not made Professor Snape so disgusted; he thought in amazement that Professor Lupin, who was about to take over the Defense Against the Dark Arts class, had done it.
He absentmindedly cut into a steak, shoveling it into his mouth without savoring it, his eyes busy observing the movements of the staff, silently trying to guess what the Headmaster of Serpent House was thinking: Did Professor Snape already know that Professor Lupin was a werewolf, or did he simply resent all new Defence Against the Dark Arts teachers? Or was there something else going on – was there a personal grudge between Professor Snape and Professor Lupin?
But until Professor Dumbledore finished his introduction, Draco still couldn't tell which reason was more dominant.
Professor Lupin's shabby appearance did not go down well with most of the students. As evidenced by the few cold, scattered applause that greeted him in the Great Hall, it came from the Gryffindor table, those who had seen Professor Lupin on the train.
After Professor Lupin took his seat, the faculty seats became lively. Some professors were greeting Professor Lupin, blocking Draco's view.
So he returned his gaze to Hermione at the Gryffindor table. She finished clapping, then excitedly poured herself some pumpkin juice, then drank it contentedly, a genuine smile on her face as she drank.
He stared at her and couldn't help but add some hot pumpkin juice to himself and taste it.
——It tastes quite good. Draco finally regained some of his sense of taste.
In fact, the back-to-school dinner is always rich and delicious.
When the dining table was in a mess, the Slytherin students were already holding their stomachs, bustling and stumbling through the stone wall and returning to the common room.
"Get another Quidditch cup for Slytherin, will you?" Draco said to Marcus as they entered the common room one after the other.
This "eighth grader" exudes an aura of "keep away from strangers", which makes most students stay away from him, for fear of offending him and getting a lesson.
But Draco wasn't afraid of him; he knew that nothing touched Marcus' heart more than Quidditch.
"Of course!" Marcus said in a low voice, and a smile appeared on his gorilla face for the first time that night.
"Well done!" He patted Draco's shoulder with his heavy palm. "I saw the points you added for Slytherin. A good start, very good." After he said that, he didn't stay any longer and walked towards the boys' dormitory with heavy steps.
Poor guy, repeating a grade must have been a big blow to him. Delacour saw him off, not noticing that a large group of people had gathered around him.
"Tell us more about what happened today?" said Graham Montague, with several members of the Quidditch house team gathered around him, all nodding at Draco with great interest.
"Yes, how did you defeat the Dementors?" asked Daphne Greengrass.
"There's nothing much to say. I haven't fully mastered the spell yet, but the situation was critical..." Draco said lazily, sitting down in an armchair by the fireplace.
When he had finished, Millicent Bulstrode asked, "Did that coward Harry Potter really faint? If the Dementors came to patrol the castle one day, would he faint at any time?"
At this time, several Slytherin students had begun to pretend to faint, and there was a burst of laughter around them.
Does fainting mean you're a coward? Draco thought with disgust, these people really don't know anything about the capabilities of Dementors.
"That's not funny, Bulstrode," he said coldly. "If a Dementor attacked you, I don't think you would have fared much better."
Millicent Bulstrode shut up awkwardly.
"Attack?" Theodore Nott opened his mouth and asked a rare question.
"Yes. The Dementors that came to our compartment weren't simply patrolling; their purpose was to attack," Draco said sternly. "I must remind you that the idea of bringing Dementors into Hogwarts Castle is extremely dangerous, just like placing a large bowl of prime beef in front of a group of hungry dogs. They are unreasonable and can lose control and attack us at any time."
The crowd stopped laughing and started whispering.
——Slytherins never like the feeling of being in danger.
Draco continued, "It is unwise to joke about Dementors. Dementors are not safe, and any sensible person would want to stay away from them. It may attack Harry Potter today, but it may not attack you tomorrow."
His calm eyes swept over the Slytherins around him, who were either surprised or thinking, and he said meaningfully, "Stay alert! Those who have defeated the Dark Lord were powerless against the attacks of Dementors. If you face the attacks of Dementors yourselves, how much better will you be?"
He sneered exhaustedly at the crowd, stood up and walked back to his single dormitory, shutting himself out of the silent atmosphere of the lounge.