Hogwarts: Slytherin Kiss

Voldemort smiled softly on his twisted and flat snake face, and actually stretched out a pale arm to help him up.

"You will have a bright future, Draco. Lucius is too cowardly, but his son is very courageous, isn't he?"

After a moment of silence, a burst of approval suddenly erupted from the long table. The Death Eaters all smiled and nodded in agreement.

Draco felt like his soul was being burned into two pieces by the fierce fire, so much so that he actually smiled at this moment.

He didn't dare to turn around and let the corner of his eye touch even a little bit of the same light golden hair as his head.

It was too dazzling, and it would illuminate the pain, cowardice, and despair that he had tried his best to use the brain sealing technique to tie up and lock up layer by layer.

Malfoy's glory, dignity, and ridiculous pure-blood nobility were all trampled to pieces.

The more he repeated I'm sorry, the brighter and more impeccable the smile on his face became.

For a moment he had an illusion, who was this person smiling with his face?

The 'family' meeting is over.

After Voldemort left, there was silence in the living room for a while before the cluster of sand that was pinched tightly to almost an irregular shape slowly spread into loose quicksand.

A Death Eater seemed to want to ridicule Lucius, who looked haggard and pale, but he froze involuntarily when he came into contact with an ice-like look.

Then he realized angrily that this was a boy who hadn't even finished his studies.

But he just sneered sarcastically, slid open the chair with a squeak, and strode out of the living room.

Soon only the Malfoy family and a tall, thin man in black robes were left here.

"Draco..."

Draco silently walked out of the living room with Snape, seemingly going out to talk together.

·

In the forest with a faint cold mist, a lonely girl walked through it alone with a backpack on her back.

Indra had just arrived in the Forest of Dean, and she didn't meet many Muggles along the way.

They couldn't see the dementors, but they could feel the coldness and discomfort.

An old woman from a nearby village even advised her not to go in, saying it was haunted.

Indra sat down to rest on a big rock for the time being, and took out a sandwich and the Daily Prophet that Harry Ken had brought back this morning from his bag.

She found a new article about Dumbledore.

Author - Rita Skeeter.

One of Indra's eyebrows raised with force, so to speak, and now she was starting to write again.

Hermione had banned Rita Ski from writing for some time. This time Skeeter not only wrote an article, but she also has a book called "The Life and Lies of Dumbledore" that will be published this week.

Needless to say, the Dumbledore written by this woman is very different from the one written by others. It is full of distorted and dirty images.

Indra flipped through the newspaper, and the contents included but were not limited to Dumbledore's involvement in dark magic in his youth, the falsehood of his achievements, and the duel of the century with Grindelwald was just a dirty deal.

And - an unhealthy and evil relationship with Harry Potter.

Seeing this, Indra finally crumpled the newspaper into a ball and threw it on the ground like trash.

"Noisy flies."

After a while, she bent down to pick it up again, and at that moment, Indra suddenly felt that the spell she had left at home was being touched.

Someone has entered her home!

who is it?

Indra straightened up abruptly and stuffed the newspaper into his satchel, looking in a direction of the forest. Of course, the small villa located on Fran Street could not be seen here.

Could it be, Draco?

Indra thought hopefully, could it be him?

She hesitated whether to Apparate and go back to take a look, it was just a one-off thing.

A biting cold suddenly approached, and the fog in the surrounding woods became visibly thicker.

It's the dementors coming!

Gray shadows floated over quickly from behind the tree trunks, and there seemed to be dozens or twenty of them.

Indra held the wand and quickly used Occlumency to control his emotions. The dementors slowed down as if they had lost their target.

Without vision and hearing, they looked around, taking long breaths, looking for their prey.

Occlumency is indeed useful against dementors.

Indra put his hand into the fire dragon leather satchel, pulled a small potion bottle into his hand, took it out, and then opened the rubber stopper.

Faint wisps of mist floated out of the bottle, fluttering in the air like threads drawn from snow-white clouds.

The Dementor closest to Indra suddenly turned his head towards her, his withered and rotten hands opened from the tattered gray robe, and quickly floated over.

Indra kept backing up, watching some dementors surrounding the floating potion, following behind like a school of fish caught on a fishhook.

They were visibly excited, clawing at the air, inhaling.

Indra's joy was suppressed by the Occlumency. She just stood in the distance, holding a small potion bottle in her hand, watching the dementors' actions calmly.

The front dementor followed the white mist overflowing from the potion and came to Indra. She slowly turned her wrist, with the mouth of the bottle facing down, and the light silver viscous potion flowed to the ground.

Indra quickly took two steps back, stood on a rock, and watched the dementors pounce on the silver liquid on the ground.

But this time they quickly lost interest, scattered again, and even seemed a little restless.

Indra frowned, and her brain, which did not reveal any emotion, asked the dementors calm and cold questions.

——Don’t like it?

The Dementors suddenly looked in the direction of Indra. They had no hearing or vision, and relied on their emotions to identify creatures.

Just now they thought it was an animal in the forest in that direction.

Because they have no way of accurately feeling its emotions.

But 'it' spoke.

--what do you?

asked the dementor.

Indra found this to be a very strange feeling, communicating with the dementors through consciousness.

- Potion master, don’t you like the potion just now?

Dementor 1: I like it, but I'm still hungry.

Dementors 2: Which side of the wizard are you?

Dementor 3: It’s like eating nothing.

Indra: I will continue to improve. Do you have any suggestions? The potion master is the treasure of wizards, regardless of camp.

The dementors were unresponsive and were probably unable to carry out such complex exchanges of thoughts.

Her soul potion is now as illusory to the dementors as food that they can taste and smell, but cannot eat.

But what does that feel like? Dementor food is inherently incorporeal.