Off work yet?

The Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom was deathly silent for a full five seconds.

The half-piece of dark chocolate that had fallen onto the stone slab rolled twice and came to rest in front of Harry's shoe.

Harry stiffly looked up at Gavin, his voice changing:

"Gai, Gavin, what did you say you were going to bring back?"

"Dementor."

Gavin pointed out the window towards the Black Lake, his tone as calm as if he were telling someone to go to the greenhouse and pull up a couple of weeds:

"Isn't there a whole squad stationed around the school? Just call one over to help out."

Lupin finally withdrew his hand from Harry's shoulder.

Then, he tried to bring the teaching assistant back to reality using the common sense of a normal wizard:

"Gavin, I completely understand your intention to help Harry improve his resilience. But those are the guards of Azkaban; they are not under Hogwarts' jurisdiction, much less the Flobberworm from the Care of Magical Creatures... and Professor Dumbledore would never allow Dementor to set foot in the castle."

"It's not an arrest, it's a temporary transfer."

Gavin held up one finger and earnestly began to reason with the professor:

"First, we are only using off-campus government personnel as temporary teaching aids. They will be returned immediately after practice, so it doesn't constitute a violation of regulations by allowing Dementor into the school."

"Secondly, Professor Dumbledore just laid down three rules with me this morning, requiring all my practical activities to be conducted within your sight—and aren't you standing right here watching? You can come with me to catch it later."

"Third, Dumbledore said that as long as I don't alert the Hospital Wing and the Ministry of Magic, borrowing Dementor shouldn't be an issue."

Strictly speaking, Dementor belong to the Ministry of Magic, but the Ministry of Magic didn't even know that Azkaban had a new warden.

Therefore, Gavin felt it was outside the scope of "alarming".

Lupin opened his mouth.

Although each word sounds utterly absurd, when strung together, he couldn't find a single logical flaw.

Before Lupin could even formulate his rebuttal, Gavin had already slowly added a third reason:

"Most importantly, real Dementor can walk away on their own."

He glanced at the wardrobe in the middle, a hint of resentment in his eyes.

"When get out of class ends, I don't need to carry it to the storage room at a 45-degree angle."

Silence fell over the classroom once again.

Harry and Lupin exchanged a glance, simultaneously realizing one thing—

So Gavin was ignoring the perfectly good Boggart and instead went to catch a Dementor, purely to save himself the trouble of moving wardrobes?

"Let's go, let's finish this quickly before dinner time."

Gavin didn't give the two any time to process what was happening. He bent down, picked up his bag from the first desk, slung it over his shoulder, strode to the classroom door, and pulled open the heavy wooden door.

A soft creaking sound.

My right foot, which had just stepped out the door, stopped.

Cordelia stood alone by the stone window across the corridor, her hands behind her back.

Hearing the door open, the girl immediately turned around.

Seeing Gavin emerge with his backpack, her cool, silver-gray eyes brightened slightly, and she took half a step forward to greet him.

Are you off work?

Cordelia already knew that Gavin had been recruited as a teaching assistant.

She had no objection to this; on the contrary, she was very supportive, which was a result she was very happy to see.

"Not yet."

Gavin sighed, his face etched with the weariness of being forced into extended working hours by the production team:

"I'll have to work overtime temporarily; I need to go get some teaching aids first."

Cordelia paused for a moment.

She looked over the boy's shoulder at Harry and Lupin, who were following closely behind as they came out of the classroom.

Harry was still clutching half a melted chocolate bar tightly in his hand, his face as white as if he had just seen a ghost.

Lupin walked along, rubbing his temples, his face showing a dazed expression, as if he wanted to say something but couldn't.

What kind of teaching aids require a Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, a teaching assistant, and the Chosen One Harry Potter to form a team to retrieve them?

Before she could ask any further questions, Gavin had already naturally reached out and taken her wrist, leading her towards the stairwell.

"Perfect timing. You're cooped up in the classroom all day, so come along to the lake for some fresh air and supervise the construction. I haven't broken the Contract."

Cordelia glanced at their clasped hands, didn't ask any further questions, and obediently quickened her pace to follow.

In the evening of October, the breeze along the shore of Black Lake already carried a biting chill.

The four of them passed through the Entrance Hall and walked along the grassy slope towards the school boundary stone wall on the south side.

The further you go, the faster the air temperature drops.

When we reached the slope, which was about fifty steps from the shallow shore of the lake, a thin layer of white frost had already formed on the tips of the grass blades under our feet.

Not far ahead, in the thick fog over the water, several tall, slender black figures, each at least ten feet tall and draped in tattered black cloaks, drifted back and forth Silencio.

Harry instinctively gripped the Holly Wand in his Robes pocket, a wave of nausea washing over him.

Even from this distance, the suffocating feeling of having my lungs filled with ice water still crept up from the soles of my feet.

"Just wait for me here." Gavin released Cordelia's wrist, gesturing for the three of them to wait for him at the top of the slope.

Cordelia stopped in her tracks.

Only then did she make out the several unsettling black outlines in the thick fog.

The girl stared at the dark figure on the lakeshore for two seconds, then slowly turned her head. Her silver-gray eyes fell on Lupin and Harry beside her, and her cool voice revealed genuine doubt:

"This is the teaching aid he was talking about?"

"Are third graders learning about Dementor now? I didn't know that."

Lupin coughed lightly and explained gently:

"This isn't part of the regular lesson, Miss Rowle. It's extra practice for Harry."

"Um?"

It happened in a flash.

Cordelia's gaze immediately shifted to Harry's face.

Although she didn't say a word, she just quietly looked at Harry.

But her silver-gray eyes clearly revealed her feelings at that moment.

So, it's because of you that he can't leave work on time?

Harry felt a chill run down his spine.

He'd never caught the Golden Snitch so fast in his Quidditch Pitch. His right hand shot up above his head, pointed to the sky, and he blurted out:

"It was Gavin who suggested it! I swear! I only intended to practice against the Boggart in the closet, I never thought of using a real one!"

Harry felt like crying but had no tears left to shed.

He genuinely didn't intend to use Dementor to practice his Patronus!

Cordelia stared at him expressionlessly for two seconds, making sure he wasn't lying, before shifting her gaze back to the lakeside.

Harry breathed a long sigh of relief and wiped the cold sweat from his forehead with his sleeve.

He just had a feeling that he was being watched by a dragon.

That's terrifying.

Down the slope, Gavin, with his hands in the pockets of his wizard's robe, strolled leisurely to the shallow pebbles less than ten steps from the cold mist.

The evening lake breeze howled across the open water, silencing all the voices below.

Harry, Lupin, and Cordelia stood on the high slope, unable to hear a sound, only able to watch the silent spectacle unfolding below.

Gavin stopped, raised his right hand, and casually beckoned his index finger into the churning white mist.

That gesture was no different from waving to a waiter in a restaurant to ask for the bill.

The three Dementor, which had been floating side by side in the white mist, froze in mid-air.

The next second, something happened that nearly made Harry and Lupin's eyes pop out of their sockets.

The two Dementor on the left and right retreated half a meter in unison without any hesitation, their movements so synchronized that they seemed to have rehearsed it hundreds of times, leaving their slow-reacting companion in the middle all alone at the front.

The Dementor shuddered violently.

It looked around blankly at its empty sides, and finally had no choice but to grit its teeth and slowly float out of the white mist, stopping in front of Gavin, bowing and crouching to await his orders.

Gavin pointed to Harry on the slope, his lips moving as if he were giving him some instructions.

The Dementor followed his finger, turning the black hood and glancing up the slope.

The rotting, grayish chin beneath the hood paused for a second on Harry and Lupin, then abruptly turned back, shaking the hood like a rattle in front of Gavin.

Gavin frowned, said something again, and tapped his wrist.

The Dementor shook even more vigorously.

Not only was its head shaking rapidly, but even the hem of its tattered cloak hanging in mid-air was trembling. It even tentatively shrank back half a foot, trying to retreat back into the mist behind it.

Gavin's patience visibly vanished.

He took a step forward, grabbed the other person's collar without warning, and raised his right hand at the same time—

Snap!

A crisp, clean slap landed squarely on the side of the Dementor's hood.

Although the lake breeze blocked the sound, all three people on the slope clearly saw that the tattered black hood was blown at a 45-degree angle and almost slipped off the back of his head.

That's not all.

In the very instant the Dementor was stunned, Gavin ruthlessly raised his right foot and kicked the hem of the Dementor's black cloak hanging down.

The ten-foot-tall Dementor was kicked and staggered backward.

It stood frozen in place, its two pockmarked, grayish-white, rotting hands slowly emerging from its wide sleeves, trembling as it touched the side of its head, gently straightening the crooked black hood back to its center.

But this time it dared not shake its head again.

The tall, dark figure lowered its head with a pitiful expression and nodded very obediently to Gavin.

Gavin withdrew his hand with satisfaction, put it back into the pocket of his wizard robe, and turned to walk up the slope.

The Dementor, which had just exuded a sinister and terrifying aura, now hunched its shoulders and obediently dragged its tattered cloak behind him.

At the top of the slope, there was a deathly silence.

Lupin's right hand, which had been instinctively gripping his Wand, was now frozen in mid-air.

The well-informed Professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts stared, mouth slightly agape, at the dejected Azkaban guard who had followed Gavin in for a long while before finally muttering:

"... Why do I have a feeling that the other person seems a little pitiful?"

Harry, standing beside him, nodded in deep agreement, staring blankly at the Dementor that had followed Gavin back.

At this moment, he felt completely at peace.

Suddenly, Harry thought of something and looked at Lupin:

"Professor Lupin, I suddenly feel that dealing with Dementor doesn't necessarily require the Patronus Charm?"

Lupin didn't speak, he just stared blankly ahead.

He suddenly realized his understanding of the Defense Against the Dark Arts course was lacking.

That's a bit too superficial.

As they were talking, Gavin had already led the dejected Dementor up the slope.

Lupin snapped out of his daze, composed himself, and raised his Wand, proposing:

"To prevent a stampede in the corridor, I cast a Disillusionment Charm on it, and we circled back to the Third Floor via the secluded spiral staircase on the west side—"

"Going around to the west takes an extra ten minutes, and by then dinner will be cold."

Gavin shook his head, reached out and opened the bag on his shoulder, pulling out a dusty, Undetectable Extension Charm.

He untied the rope, held the palm-sized bag opening up in front of the ten-foot-tall Dementor, and raised his chin:

"Go in."

Lupin paused, instinctively opening his mouth, about to remind Gavin that Dementor weren't easy creatures to talk to; they had their own dignity too.

Without a second's hesitation, the Dementor in front of them expertly hunched its shoulders, tucked its two grayish-white, rotting hands into its sleeves, lowered its black hood, and swiftly slipped into the palm-sized bag.

It looked like he had done it many times before, and he seemed very skilled at it.

In the blink of an eye, the ten-foot-tall shadowy figure, along with the hem of its tattered cloak, vanished without a trace.

Gavin deftly tightened the drawstring, casually stuffed the deflated cloth bag back into his Dragon Hide satchel, and clapped his hands.

Let's go.

There was a two-second silence on the slope.

Lupin's Wand was still raised in mid-air, his lips slightly parted, his whole body frozen like a stone statue.

Harry, standing next to him, practically popped his eyes out of their sockets, staring intently at the unremarkable backpack on Gavin's shoulder.

Cordelia, who had been standing silently to the side, looked at the two people in front of her.

A hint of a smile appeared in his silver-gray eyes, and the corners of his lips curved slightly.

Click.

The door to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom on the Third Floor was locked from the inside.

Lupin waved his Wand, moving all the desks and chairs in the front row to the sides, leaving a large open space in the center.

Gavin walked to the edge of the open space, took out the Undetectable Extension Charm from his backpack, untied the drawstring, pinched the bottom of the bag, and gave it a shake in mid-air.

Thump.

A crumpled black cloak fell out of the bag and rolled half a circle on the stone floor.

The towering Dementor frantically opened its black cloak and floated up, its two gray, decaying hands trembling as it reached for its head, straightening the hood that had once again tilted to one side.

"Let's get started, hurry up, don't delay our meal."

Gavin casually stuffed the empty bag back into his backpack, placed it on the corner of the lectern, glanced at the wall clock, and gestured for the group to begin.

Harry took a deep breath, walked to the center of the classroom, gripped his Holly Wand tightly, and looked up with a serious expression.

However, the "teaching aid" opposite him was completely out of sorts.

The Dementor, just poured out of the bag, immediately floated to the far end of the classroom, right under the blackboard.

Its entire back was pressed tightly against the blackboard groove, and its two grayish-white, rotting hands were tightly tucked deep into its sleeves.

Let alone actively pounce on it to absorb happiness, it doesn't even dare to let out a wisp of cold air, wishing it could flatten itself into a black paper cutout pasted on the wall.

The classroom was warm and cozy, and even the flames of the wall lamps didn't flicker.

Harry, Wand in hand, stared at the Dementor huddled in front of the blackboard.

Two people--

To be precise, it's one person and one monster.

They stared at each other blankly for a full five seconds.

Harry's arm, which had been gripping the Wand, was starting to ache when he turned his head blankly to look at the podium.

"... Should I just recite the incantation directly?"

He felt that things weren't quite as he had imagined.

This Dementor doesn't seem as scary as the Boggart.

"Wait a moment, let me help the actor calm down."

Gavin tapped his fingers twice on the podium and scolded the Dementor:

"Number 78, you can't do this."

Lupin, who was standing guard on the side, paused for a moment, then subconsciously turned to look at Gavin:

"... Number 78? What is that?"

"Azkaban's employee number," Gavin replied casually.

Lupin opened his mouth.

He glanced at the dark creature under the blackboard that didn't even have a physical gender, then at the thirteen-year-old teaching assistant with a completely matter-of-fact expression, and his mind's established system of Defense Against the Dark Arts knowledge was severely shaken.

After hesitating for two seconds, Lupin swallowed back the question, "When did Azkaban assign employee numbers to the Dementor?"

Because his teaching assistant seems very irritable right now.

Gavin was indeed too busy to deal with Lupin; he was in a hurry.

He frowned, staring at the Dementor in front of the blackboard, and urged:

"What's wrong? Didn't you eat? Show some enthusiasm."

Upon hearing the words "didn't eat," Number 78, which was posted on the blackboard, stirred slightly.

It lowered its hood slightly, and slowly extended two empty gray hands from the tattered sleeves of its cloak, palms facing up as it offered Gavin, then silently withdrew them, before touching the corners of its nonexistent eyes.

The series of movements Silencio, yet they conveyed a barely contained sense of grievance.

Gavin paused for a second, then understood.

It probably really didn't get to eat anything.

Ever since Fudge sent these Dementor to camp outside Hogwarts, Dumbledore has strictly forbidden them from stepping inside the school gates.

The surrounding wilderness was so desolate that even a rabbit was a rare sight, let alone the daily emotional quotas that prisoners received on time, as was the case in Azkaban.

These unfortunate kids squatted in the cold wind for over a month, working on an empty stomach the whole time.

No wonder they risked everything to rush into Quidditch Match in the original story.

Never mess with a hungry ghost; if you starve for too long, even the gods will eat you up.

No wonder you were haggling with me just now...

Gavin muttered to himself.

When he went to catch the monster, he thought the other party would immediately bow down and worship him, but when he heard that he was to be a sparring partner, Number 78's reaction was unusually strong.

It was obvious that it hadn't eaten and had been beaten by the Patronus, so it felt it was being bullied too much and started to rebel.

Dementor do have dignity too!

"Eek--"

Number 78, seeing that Gavin finally understood his grievances, let out a groan.

Harry was so startled that he nearly dropped his Wand, thinking the other party was about to launch some strange attack.

"Alright, I'll give you that later."

Gavin waved his hand and skillfully began to paint a rosy picture.

"Now, get to work right now. If I don't get to eat, you won't have an easy time either."

The effect was immediate upon hearing this.

Number 78's previously slumped shoulders straightened instantly.

It stopped pretending to be dead against the blackboard and took a half step forward. Its black hood lifted slightly, and a low, hoarse gasp, like a bellows, came from under its cloak.

Ah!--

A genuine Dementor's chill swept through the entire classroom in an instant.

Even though Number 78 had toned down his power considerably because of Gavin's presence, his strength was still fundamentally different from Boggart's in the closet earlier.

The temperature in the surrounding air, along with all the joy and hope, was instantly sucked away by an invisible black hole, leaving even the glass of the windows on both sides covered with a layer of pale frost flowers.

Harry, standing in the center of the classroom, suddenly shuddered.

The color drained from his face in an instant, his green eyes went unfocused, and he froze on the spot.

That nightmare that haunted him for over a decade --

A blinding green light and a woman's heart-wrenching screams--

They didn't reason with him at all, and directly broke down his psychological defenses.

"Hoo, hoo hoo..."

Harry's teeth chattered as he tried to utter the Spell, but his right hand, gripping the Holly Wand, trembled so much he couldn't lift it.

Forget about that thick, silvery-white wall of mist that was taller than a person; not even a tiny spark could be squeezed out of the tip of his staff, and his knees buckled, almost causing him to kneel down.

Snap!

Gavin promptly raised his hand and snapped his fingers.

Number 78 immediately understood and obeyed orders, instantly withdrawing all the lingering cold air, and very consciously drifted back to the corner of the windowsill, turning around to face the wall.

Lupin rushed forward immediately, caught the swaying Harry, and pressed him down onto the wooden chair that Cordelia had casually pushed over.

Lupin touched Harry's icy-cold hand and frowned deeply.

"Real Dementor are still too dangerous; eating chocolate alone won't be enough to recover."

He turned and glanced at Number 78, who was obediently facing the wall in the corner, then looked at Gavin and Cordelia to the side, and quickly instructed them:

"Harry, sit down and catch your breath. Don't push yourself today. Gavin, Miss Rowle, keep an eye on this one... um, Number 78. I'll go to the next office and get some Draught of Euphoria."

After speaking, Lupin strode to the back of the podium, pushed open the small door leading to the inner room, and went inside.

The classroom fell silent immediately.

Harry sat on the wooden chair, gripping his Holly Wand tightly with both hands, without saying a word, just staring down at the stone floor beneath his feet.

After a long while, he finally spoke, his voice hoarse and dejected:

"Gavin, Miss Rowle... am I really that useless?"

"I clearly succeeded in dealing with Boggart just now, but when it comes to the real thing, I can't even recite a complete Spell."

Cordelia had initially been a little resentful because dinner had been delayed, but seeing Harry's deathly pale face, that resentment dissipated.

She lifted her foot and kicked the brazier next to her two inches closer to Harry's chair, her tone gentle:

"That's normal; after all, not everyone is a monster like Gavin."

Hearing this, Harry remained dejected, head bowed, and said nothing.

He knew it was a consolation, because he was the only one on the train who would faint when facing Dementor.

Gavin rested his hands on the edge of the podium, looking down at him:

"What were you thinking when you were chanting the incantation?"

"When I received my Hogwarts acceptance letter," Harry muttered, "And the first time I rode a flying Broomstick in my first year."

"That's not enough, that's just simple happiness."

Gavin shook his head.

"When Dementor gets close, the first thing it drains is this fleeting joy. You need to figure out what exactly makes you happy and how to protect it; that's the key."

Harry looked up, blinking blankly through his round glasses:

"Protect?... How do you protect it? Lock the admission notice in a box?"

Gavin stared at him for two seconds, then silently raised his hand and rubbed his temple.

At that moment, he experienced firsthand the profound difference in talent between people.

In terms of comprehension of such abstract, idealistic concepts, Hermione's talent far surpasses Harry's.

When he was teaching Hermione in another world, he only needed to give her the instruction "Hold fast to your resolve," and the girl could immediately use it. A few days later, she was able to summon a lifelike White Peacock while facing a sky full of monsters by the Black Lake.

Trying to explain the philosophy of spellcasting to Mr. Potter would be like casting pearls before swine.

We need to try a different approach.

It's time for my fully developed guiding personality to come into play.

Gavin completely abandoned his theoretical teaching methods, straightened up, and gestured with his chin towards Harry:

"Stand up, grip your Wand firmly, and close your eyes."

Although Harry was confused, out of his usual blind trust in Gavin, he obediently stood up, supporting himself on his knees, gripped his Wand with both hands, and closed his eyes.

Gavin slowed his breathing, lowered his voice to a soft, steady tone, and began to speak slowly with a Hypnosis, gentle rhythm:

"Don't dwell on the past. Just imagine it's 6:30 in the evening, training is over, and you're sitting at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall."

"Sizzling beef ribs, Yorkshire pudding, and a piping hot mixed fruit pie have just been served on the table. You've finished all your homework for the week, and Wood just stood up and announced—no practice tomorrow morning."

The words had barely left his mouth.

Harry's brow, which had just relaxed slightly, furrowed again as soon as he closed his eyes.

"... Wood wouldn't say that."

Gavin looked at him expressionlessly:

"This is your imagination, Harry. Can't you be a little kinder to yourself in your own mind? Let him rest for a day."

Cordelia, standing beside her, turned her head slightly, a barely perceptible curve appearing at the corner of her lips as she suppressed a smile.

Gavin continued, lowering his voice even further:

"At that moment, Hagrid arrived. He walked in through the Great Hall door, carrying a large bag of freshly baked Rock Cakes— "

Harry's lips immediately drooped, and his whole face looked miserable.

"--But I got them all."

Gavin slowly added the second half of the sentence.

The next second, Harry's tense lips slowly curled up again, revealing a genuine look of pleasure on his face.

Gavin paused, observing Harry's overly obvious change in facial expression, and sneered inwardly.

He said he liked Rock Cakes, and sure enough, that kid did it on purpose!

Cordelia gently touched Gavin's shoe with the tip of her boot, signaling him not to get distracted.

Gavin withdrew his thoughts from the rant, and his voice became gentle and quiet again:

Ron is sitting right next to you, arguing with Hermione.

Harry closed his eyes and asked softly:

"Why?"

"Whatever, it's probably just that he spilled food crumbs and dirtied Hermione's notebook. You should know it better than I do."

Harry finally let out a very soft laugh, and his previously tense and stiff shoulders completely relaxed.

"It's warm in the Great Hall. After you finish your meal, you can go back to the tower with them. Take a nap, and you can see them again tomorrow morning."

Harry's grip on the Wand gradually loosened; he no longer gripped it tightly, yet it remained firmly in his hand.

With his eyes closed, he suddenly asked very softly:

"And you? Are you coming tomorrow too?"

Gavin paused for a moment.

He looked at the somewhat thin thirteen-year-old boy in front of him and remembered how he looked covered in the smell of smoke in the Hospital Wing that day.

Unbeknownst to him, he had also become an important friend in Harry's eyes.

"I will too."

Gavin's voice was soft, yet it carried a firm conviction:

I'll sit across from you tomorrow too.

Cordelia, standing beside him, raised her eyelashes, her gaze falling on Gavin, and fell silent as well.

The only sound in the classroom was the occasional soft crackling of the charcoal brazier.

"Do you want every day to be like this from now on?" Gavin asked softly.

Harry nodded emphatically.

Gavin raised his right hand and snapped his fingers at Number 78, who was facing the wall in the corner, his voice suddenly turning deep:

"But now the Dementor have stormed in, and they're going to destroy everything."

Number 78 in the corner turned around abruptly with utmost professionalism, lifting his black cloak and releasing a wisp of chilling aura.

"They want to kidnap all your friends, drain them dry, ruin your life, steal everything you have, and send you back to your aunt's house, that cold, cramped little room. What would you do?!"

"I absolutely will not allow it!"

At the very instant the cold air surged forth.

Harry suddenly opened his eyes!

He roared at the top of his lungs with all his might:

"Expelliarmus!!"

Boom--!!

A beam of crimson magic light, as thick as a bowl and dazzlingly bright, burst forth from the tip of the Holly Wand!

Poor Number 78 had barely turned around, and before he could even pull his hand out of his sleeve, he was struck squarely in the chest by this incredibly powerful Disarming Charm.

A muffled thud!

The ten-foot-tall Dementor was blasted off the ground by the Red Light, flying backwards and tracing a straight line in the air before crashing heavily into the protective padding piled up against the back wall of the classroom, then sliding down the wall.

A deathly silence fell over the classroom.

Gavin was still snapping his fingers with his right thumb and middle finger together, staring blankly at the tangled mess of black cloak at the base of the back wall.

This was completely unexpected.

After a long while, he finally managed to utter a sentence:

"... Is this even acceptable?"

Just then.

With a click, the small door leading to the inner office was pushed open.

Lupin stepped out, holding a small Crystal Bottle filled with diluted Draught of Euphoria. As he looked up, he saw the lingering Red Light in the air and the Dementor Azkaban that had been blasted into the pile of cushions against the back wall.

Lupin's foot, which had been about to step across the threshold, froze in place.

He blinked, glanced at the black cloak slowly rising from the base of the wall, then at Harry and Gavin, who looked completely bewildered, his voice filled with deep confusion:

Am I seeing things?

Why is the Patronus Charm red?

Harry remained frozen in place, still in the position of swinging his cane.

After a full three seconds, he suddenly came to his senses, his face flushing bright red. Looking down at the Holly Wand in his hand, he stammered:

"I... I didn't have time to think of the Spell... When I heard Gavin say that someone was going to destroy all of this, my body just moved on its own..."

At the base of the back wall, Number 78 had unfurled his tattered cloak and was floating up again.

It touched its chest, where it had been struck hard, but there wasn't a single wound on its body, and the surrounding chill hadn't been purified or dissolved by the Red Light.

But the way it looked at Harry became complicated.

This was just like a little kid giving Tyson a huge slap in the face.

It caused almost no harm, but was extremely insulting.

Gavin glanced at the unharmed Number 78 and roughly understood the situation.

He conducted an experiment using Harry's hair last year, and Harry's spellcasting pathways showed an extremely abnormal power amplification to the Disarming Charm.

That last shot was purely a brute force that sent the unsuspecting Number 78 flying; it couldn't actually harm or dispel the Dementor.

"It's my fault, I forgot you're Gryffindor."

Gavin voluntarily took on half of the teaching responsibility.

But looking at it this way, Hermione really shouldn't be in Gryffindor.

She--

It's not pure at all.

Lupin had already walked over quickly.

Instead of blaming Harry for using the wrong Spell, his eyes suddenly lit up:

"No, Harry, you did a fantastic job!"

"Did you notice? When it approached you just now, you didn't back down or faint! And you even dared to fight back! Although the method is still debatable, it's clearly a good sign!"

Harry paused for a moment, then looked down at his hands.

There was really no shaking.

Even though Number 78 has now floated up again, and the chilling atmosphere still lingers in the classroom, the warmth in his chest remains.

At that moment, he seemed to have truly found the feeling of wanting to protect that Gavin had described.

"Let's try one last time while we still feel it."

Lupin put the bottle of Draught of Euphoria back in his pocket, took a half step back, and looked at him gently but earnestly:

"Remember that feeling, then think of something happy. Of course, the most important thing is to use the correct Spell."

Harry took a deep breath and nodded emphatically.

He raised his Holly Wand again and aimed it at Number 78, who was cowering in the corner, refusing to come any closer.

The screams and green lights no longer filled my mind; instead, I pictured a brightly lit Great Hall.

Ron was bickering with Hermione while holding a whole bag of Rock Cakes, Hagrid was holding a large wine glass, Gavin and Cordelia were sitting at the Long Table opposite him watching.

He wanted every day to be like this from now on!

"Expecto Patronum"

Harry whispered the Spell.

Buzz.

A soft silver light shone from the tip of the Holly Wand.

Although not as dense and towering as when facing the Boggart, a thin, genuine layer of silvery-white mist did indeed spread out before the real Dementor, firmly keeping the oncoming chill three steps away.

The silvery-white mist lasted for about three or four seconds before slowly dissipating.

Harry, slightly out of breath, finally broke into a bright, untroubled smile.

"I... succeeded?"

"Perfect!"

Lupin clapped with satisfaction.

"It seems you've overcome your fear; just keep practicing."

Lupin immediately announced that today's extra practice was over and told Harry to hurry to the Great Hall for dinner to replenish his energy.

Then, he looked at the Dementor, somewhat troubled:

As for this...

Gavin stepped forward, took out the Undetectable Extension Charm from his backpack, opened it, and waved it at the corner.

Number 78, feeling as if granted a pardon, skillfully tucked his shoulders and black hood into the bag without a word, and darted back inside.

For the first time in his life, Lupin saw the emotion called happiness in Dementor.

Gavin the bag shut and stuffed it back into his backpack, intending to take this "temporary teaching aid" who had worked hard all evening back to Black Lake to release it.

Just before stepping out of the classroom, Gavin suddenly remembered something and stopped.

He glanced at the Boggart wardrobe that hadn't been put away in the corner of the classroom, then grinned at Harry, who was wiping his sweat.

"Oh, by the way, Harry. You seem to be in good spirits. Could you please help Professor Lupin put that cabinet back in the storeroom?"

"Ah?"

Harry paused, looking at the large wardrobe and the cramped little door, and immediately sensed something was wrong.

"But you are—"

Gavin pointed to the wall clock.

The minute hand clicked exactly to twelve.

Six o'clock sharp.

"Although I'm a teaching assistant, I'm off work now."

Even if you were the Chosen One, you couldn't disturb a badger's dinner.

After saying this, he called Cordelia to his side and stepped out of the classroom without looking back.

Unfortunately, Professor Lupin finished his shift on time, but Professor Snape still had to go to his night shift as usual.

It was exactly 7 PM in the basement Potions Office.

Thump, thump.

Gavin knocked on the door, then pushed it open and went inside.

Behind his desk, Snape was looking down, his Quill flying across a roll of Parchment, without even lifting his head.

He didn't even put down his pen; he simply pointed indifferently to the corner with his left index finger.

"Scrub the two buckets of Flobberworm in the corner clean of dirt and slime with warm water."

"No Wand allowed, no noise allowed, and don't bother me."

After saying these three sentences, Snape completely withdrew his gaze and continued to bury himself in writing furiously on the Parchment.

Gavin blinked and stood there stunned for two seconds.

That's all?

There was no penalty, no comment on his intelligence, and Snape didn't even glance at him again.

Why are you being so easy to talk to today?

Gavin suddenly felt uneasy.

By Professor Snape's usual standards, his attitude tonight was as gentle as a spring breeze, incredibly kind and approachable.

There must be a problem.

Gavin, full of suspicion, walked to the corner, rolled up the sleeves of his Robes, and sat down on a small wooden stool.

As he reached his hands into the basin of warm water to scoop up a plump, slippery Flobberworm, he glanced at Snape, who was intently writing something three steps away.

Snape paused for a moment with his black Quill, then quickly crossed out the half-line he had just written and began writing furiously again.

What exactly is he busy with?

No one even has time to evaluate my brain anymore?

Gavin couldn't resist his curiosity and secretly activated the Super-Sensory Charm.

He can now cast Super-Sensory Charm Wandless Magic.

The Parchment on the desk was covered with meticulous annotations, several of which had been repeatedly erased.

The title at the top, however, clearly states:

Feasibility Study on Extending the Efficacy of Biphasic Transformation Potion to Permanent Transfiguration and Awakening Latent Female Personalities

The Caterpillars in Gavin's hand slipped into the bucket.

"Ah?"