Night Curtain shrouded Hogwarts' Forbidden Forest, thick mist drifting between the shadows of the trees like ghosts. An icy wind swept across the treetops, rustling with a mournful wail, like countless invisible claws scraping across skin.
Tonight should not have been so cold.
Yet.
Who could blame it, with Dementors prowling about?
Dementors.
As creatures that did not belong to this world, species that had mistakenly fallen into the human world from the Misty Illusion, they possessed an immense innate power to suppress living beings.
"I'm going to die!"
Neville felt his mind filling with despairing, painful memories.
He thought of his parents and his family.
Tears streamed down his face uncontrollably.
Yet he was still trying to struggle. What commendable courage. Unfortunately, it was useless. Before a Dementor, his strength was truly not worth mentioning.
All Neville had was courage.
And courage was something that hurt.
Smack! Smack! Smack!
Neville's ancestors could not protect him for long. Perhaps sensing Neville's "disobedience," the Dementor recalled how Ian would slap it whenever it was disobedient.
At last, it used the method it had learned.
The slaps were loud.
And remarkably effective.
Neville instantly turned into a pig-headed mess.
"Neville!"
Ron abruptly stopped and turned around, only to see Neville caught by the Dementor. His heart nearly leaped out of his chest. The scene before his eyes seemed to sway violently.
The towering Dementor appeared to be brutally tormenting his friend.
The sight was terrifying.
Horrifying.
Terrible.
At least, that was how it looked to Ron, whose mind was rather simple and who knew little about Dementors. Neither he nor Neville knew the detailed traits of Dementors as a species.
Precisely because of that.
Ron did not realize that the Dementor holding Neville was not carrying out its instinctive behavior of feeding