Hogwarts: Starting with full Unforgivable Curses

Chapter 220 The Dementors Are Here!
"Or is it that there are very few competitive sports among wizards, and Quidditch is the most popular, and perhaps the only, competitive sport among wizards, which is why everyone is so tolerant of this one sport?"

If you put yourself in the fans' shoes, it's not hard to understand.

After Dylan arrived at the Quidditch pitch.

The bad weather limited visibility.

There are quite a lot of people here.

Even amidst the raging storm, almost the entire Hogwarts faculty and student body gathered in the stands around the stadium.

Some people didn't use magic to ward off the rain; instead, they were holding umbrellas and were immediately blown away.

Dylan even saw a sheepskin glove, whose owner he didn't know, being swept into the air by the wind.

Like a white bird with broken wings, it flew over his head.

"Hmm...it feels like Mrs. Pince's."

But how could gloves be rolled off your hands?
As Dylan was thinking, he suddenly heard a shout.

"Over here, Dylan!"

Dylan looked up and immediately fixed his gaze on Neville's wet, round face.

Neville then emerged from the dense crowd, waving his wand vigorously to indicate the location to Dylan.

Dylan pushed his way through the crowd.

Dylan used a spell to remove the rainwater from Neville's body and the seat before slowly sitting down.

—I really don't know why people would go through all this trouble to watch a game.

It would be better to conduct more experiments.

"Oh, thank you—Dylan!"

Neville shouted at Dylan.

--no way.

The howling wind and thunder blurred the boundaries of sound.

If you don't speak loudly, you can't hear it at all.

Dylan shook his head and didn't say anything.

Neville then squinted, trying his best to look at the Quidditch pitch.

Dylan was there at that time.

The invisible umbrella above Dylan's head also sheltered Neville's head.

As the falling rain approaches them, it encounters a transparent barrier, then changes direction and slides down the edge to the ground.

Not a drop of rain got on them.

"Dylan, can you see them? I think I saw Harry and the others enter!"

The sounds of wind and thunder were muffled.

The commentators couldn't even hear the game's narration.

The heavy rain disrupted visibility.

The heavy rain was like a curtain.

It creates layers upon layers of boundaries in front of people's eyes.

Neville squinted, trying to see more clearly, but he could only see a red figure moving around on the field.

Dylan's eyes were covered by magic, so he could see more clearly.

He nodded.

"It's Harry and the others coming on stage!"

"Oh! I hope they have good luck!"

Nawie is looking forward to it.

Dylan looked at the dark sky and chuckled.

Yes.

This kind of weather.

Without resorting to underhanded tactics, finding or even catching the Golden Thief really depends on luck.

"Hey Dylan! Help us keep out of the rain too! Please!"

Ron, on the other side of Neville, looked for a long time but found that he couldn't see very clearly and had to work hard to avoid getting wet in the rain.

Turning his head, he saw that Navey only needed to focus on watching the game.

Dylan solved his problems caused by the rain directly, and couldn't help but exclaim.

Dylan rolled his eyes.

But he still raised his wand.

He cast a spell on Ron, Seamus, and the others.

Instantly, they also began to shield themselves from the rain.

The game has begun.

However, they could barely see the scoreboard.

But after watching for a while, you can eventually see people flying around in the field.

Ron and his friends watched as if they had witnessed it firsthand, and would occasionally shout out excitedly.

Dylan had no idea what they were shouting about.

He looked towards the field.

However, Cedric's tall figure could be seen steadily moving through the rain.

It has to be said that height does give a person an advantage.

At least even with such heavy rain, Cedric wouldn't be blown around and sway from time to time like other younger wizards, especially Harry.

Time passed little by little.

The sky grew darker.

This further obstructs an already unclear field of vision.

Dylan glanced at the scoreboard.

Even he could hardly see it anymore.

However, it's worth mentioning that scoring doesn't seem to be that important in Quidditch.

After all, you need a lot of points to win.

However, achieving victory through scoring goals in a normal way is a very time-consuming process.

It's possible that even playing all day wouldn't be enough to achieve this goal.

However, the match will end immediately once someone finds the Golden Snitch.

So in Dylan's view, Quidditch is really about which team can find the Golden Snitch first.

However, it is precisely because Quidditch has this kind of ultimate weapon setting.

This made Dylan even more confused: what was so tense and exciting about this kind of competition?
It's nothing more than everyone exchanging blows for a while.

In the end, it all comes down to whose Seeker is the luckiest and can catch the Golden Snitch first.

"Hmm, perhaps my thinking is somewhat limited. Although it's difficult for Hogwarts to win the College Cup by scoring goals, perhaps the World Cup is more likely to do so?"

Dylan smacked his lips.

He has a habit of giving one perspective when he is thinking about something, and then giving another perspective, overturning his previous one.

Common name——

The left and right hemispheres of the brain are working together.

However, Dylan thinks it's a good thing to let the brains fight each other more.

It can not only improve thinking ability, but also allow him to break free from a certain scope and gain a broader perspective to explore more possibilities.

Dylan looked around.

People would occasionally shout it out from time to time.

However, overall, they remained silent for longer periods.

Because, apart from Gryffindors like Ron, no matter who they see or what happens to them, they will inexplicably call out to them first.

People from other colleges were trying their best to identify which person was flying back and forth in front of them.

This allows me to make a more specific judgment about the situation on the field.

But in reality, they kept trying to figure it out.

Basically, the two teams are identified by the colors of their team uniforms.

But just then, Neville suddenly exclaimed.

"Why do I feel like I saw the Golden Snitch?"

Upon hearing this, Ron's eyes widened, and he became agitated.

"What? The Golden Snitch? Has anyone seen the Golden Snitch? Where is the Golden Snitch? Have the Seekers already made their move? Which Seeker? Quickly give Harry a signal and tell him to go and steal the ball from the other side!"

Ron's voice was very loud.

Moreover, he didn't just shout it himself.

He would crane his neck, widen his eyes, and roll his gaze back and forth across the arena while bombarding the person next to him with questions. Seamus, sitting right next to Ron, was so annoyed he wanted to strangle him.

—Anyway, with such an exciting match, even if someone dies right before our eyes, probably no one else will notice, right?
However, it's clear that this idea of ​​his can only remain a thought.

Once again, Ron grabbed his arm and shook him from side to side.

Seamus finally lost his temper and yelled at Ron in a fit of rage.

"Damn it! Now—shut your little mouth! Be quiet for a moment!"

Dylan ignored the people's commotion.

Instead, they looked to the other side.

Something seems to have happened on the field.

Immediately afterwards, a very sharp whistle rang out.

The whistle silenced Ron and Seamus briefly.

But Ron's eyes widened immediately.

"What? What's going on? What happened? What did I just miss?"

"Enough! You didn't miss anything! The game was just paused!"

Simo shook off Ron's hand that was gripping his arm.

"Huh? The game is paused? Why is it paused?"

Simo: ...

"Maybe it's because both participating teams heard you yelling and shouting for no reason! They've had enough of you!"

Ron shook his head in disbelief: "I don't believe it!"

Simo: "..."

He rubbed his forehead.

Just then, Hermione, who was sitting in the row below Ron, looked ahead.

She tried hard to see through the dense curtain of rain.

In the end, all that could be seen was that the people on the field seemed to be gathered together.

—The people in red clothes gathered together.

The same goes for the Hufflepuffs.

Hermione's eyes darted around. "I think I should probably go help Harry."

She quietly left the area enveloped by Dylan's magic.

He pulled his rain hat down over his head.

Hermione weaved through the crowd.

They squeezed their way toward the people in red team uniforms below the stands.

Dylan closed his eyes.

At this moment, a familiar aura is faintly spreading in this direction.

Slowly opening his eyes, Dylan looked to his left.

"It's little a and little b."

—and other Dementor auras.

It seems that the joy on the field attracted the attention of those Dementors.

Moreover, the match was being held in such inclement weather.

The teachers and students seemed to be more energetic than in previous competitions.

"Is there a chance to catch a few more Dementors this time...?"

There's no need to feed them (from a to g) recently.

The Ministry of Magic itself raises monsters for him.

Dylan still misses Little A and the others a little.

In short, although the number of Dementors is finite, if it's too small, the Ministry of Magic won't be able to detect them.

After all, no one is going to spend every day squatting down to count the number of Dementors.

All they need to know is that no Dementors are roaming outside and are not under their control.

After Dylan subdues the Dementors, he also takes them into his own world space.

Therefore, even if the Ministry of Magic had any means to sense Dementors, it would be useless.

Now, he has put the numbers from a to g back.

Bring in some new ones and retrain them...

It doesn't seem like it's impossible!
Just as Dylan was pondering how to evade the other professors' gazes and bring a few more Dementors into his world...

Hermione hurried back.

This time, she went directly to Dylan, her tone still somewhat excited.

"Dylan! This water-repelling spell of yours, you didn't learn it from the professors, did you?"

Dylan raised an eyebrow and nodded: "Yes, this is also an innovative spell I tried to create. I improved upon the waterproof spell and also incorporated a little bit of the levitation spell."

Hermione nodded: "I had a bit of an idea when you cast that spell on me just now, and then I went to Harry's place and put a waterproof charm on his glasses as well."

"—Luckily, I also learned this spell! The result is very good; Harry can see much better now!"

In this kind of weather, a clear view means having a greater advantage, which is why Hermione is so excited.

Dylan smiled and nodded: "A very good little idea—Harry will definitely find it useful later, but let's sit down first, something is coming over."

Hermione was taken aback: "Things? What things?"

Dylan shrugged. "Maybe it's some kind of non-existence that can devour your soul?"

"what?!"

Hermione immediately realized what it meant, but her eyes widened in disbelief.

"You mean—a Dementor?"

Hermione's voice was so loud that Neville, who was next to Dylan, could hear it too.

The latter also stared wide-eyed, his face filled with disbelief.

"How could this be? This is a Quidditch match, and it's at Hogwarts! Headmaster Dumbledore said that they weren't allowed on campus at all!"

Dylan did not answer immediately.

A chill was gradually spreading through the air.

—A chilling cold that seems to pierce to the bone.

It's completely different from the cold air brought by the rainstorm.

It wasn't a coldness on the skin.

Rather, it was a chilling coldness that seemed to come from the depths of the soul.

It's like trying to freeze your soul.

Hermione shuddered: "This feeling..."

She and Neville both looked up.

Not only them, but also many students around them were shaking their bodies and raising their heads.

"Oh my God!" Neville's heart jumped into his throat.

All that could be seen above was a gray, misty rain curtain.

Dozens of dark figures wrapped in tattered rags were silently approaching.

Their black robes billowed and swirled, yet there was no trace of wind; rather, they were stirred by some unseen force.

Beneath the hoods of these creatures lie bottomless black holes—like vortexes capable of swallowing light.

The cheers abruptly ceased wherever they went.

The stands fell into a deathly silence.

In mid-air, countless emotions gradually gathered.

Finally, it was sucked into the mouths of these guys.

"How did they get here... and even dare to eat openly!" Hermione exclaimed in bewilderment.

Although the pleasure these guys derive from eating is simply the positive emotions emanating from everyone in the stands, rather than targeting any one person and directly absorbing their memories.

But this shouldn't be the case!

Suddenly, Hermione thought of Harry.

Wait a minute!
Will Harry be affected by these Dementors?

Thinking back to that time on the train, there were Dementors who dared to directly attack Harry.

Now this situation...

There's no guarantee Harry won't get into trouble!

Hermione quickly turned around and looked down at the stands.

(End of this chapter)