Born into wizarding nobility, Pansy and the others had never actually seen them in person, but they had at least heard of—and indirectly learned about—the Dementors who guarded Azkaban.
Not to mention, that suffocating feeling of having every trace of happiness drained away, that dreadful sense of never being able to feel joy again—it was unmistakable.
Though no Dementor had appeared in Draco’s compartment, its influence seemed to seep through the entire Express. The faint chatter that had filled the air moments ago vanished in an instant, as if someone had pressed a mute button, leaving behind an eerie stillness.
Before Draco and the others could react, the dimmed light suddenly returned to normal, and the chill in the air seemed to dissipate as if it had never been there.
Draco, who had been about to investigate, froze for a moment.
“Did it... leave?”
As his uncertain voice broke the silence, Pansy and the others finally started breathing again, their pale faces looking as though they’d just come through a serious illness.
Then came the shock—and anger.
“Why would they be on the Express? Is this some kind of sick wizard joke?!”
“Looks like the Ministry and Hogwarts must’ve made some sort of deal.”
Pansy and Astoria, having gathered their wits, spoke grimly, their expressions dark. It was clear they were furious that such dangerous creatures had been so close to them.
Noticing how the two girls had drawn near without him realizing, Draco glanced at the Gurdyroot Tea on the table, hesitated for a few seconds, then reached into his robes and took out two Chocolate Frogs. He handed one to Pansy and one to Astoria.
“Eat this. It’ll help you feel better.”
“Mm.”
“Thanks.”
As they took the Chocolate Frogs and bit into them, warmth spread through their fingers and toes. The sensation of life returning to their bodies made them both exhale softly in relief.
After that experience, Pansy and the others finally understood why Azkaban was so terrifying.
After all, just imagining living day and night surrounded by those Dementors was enough to make their skin crawl...
…
Clearly, the Dementors’ sudden departure must have been caused by someone’s intervention.
Before long, Goyle and Crabbe came running over and recounted the entire sequence of events...
“Oh, so it was our new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor who did it?”
Pansy’s surprise wasn’t entirely unwarranted.
After all, neither first-year Quirrell nor last year’s Lockhart had been particularly competent as Defence Against the Dark Arts professors. From an outsider’s perspective, they’d clearly failed to fulfill their duties as teachers.
So when she heard that the new professor had driven off the Dementor, Pansy’s astonishment was perfectly understandable.
Astoria, however, looked slightly perplexed, her expression seeming to ask, What’s so surprising about that?
And when Goyle and Crabbe others chimed in with their gloating remarks, Astoria’s mouth fell open slightly...
“Mm-hmm, and best of all, our Chosen One seems to have fainted from fright, haha, how amusing.”
“His whole body went rigid, he fell off his seat, and started convulsing~ Our Chosen One is just so pitiful.”
“The funniest part is, his sidekick actually started crying. Oh~ fragile little Weasley baby.”
Goyle and the others, excitedly sharing these details, failed to notice Astoria’s strange gaze. It wasn’t just because of their words, but also their mocking attitude toward Harry Potter.
The Dementors had just been here. Why could these two big guys still laugh? How much did they hate Harry Potter and Ron Weasley?
Draco, however, froze with suspicion upon hearing this. Something felt off.
Before he could ask, Pansy, sitting nearby and feeling rather embarrassed, shot Goyle and Crabbe a fierce glare.
“Quiet! Can’t you see others are here!”
“Yes!”
“Yes, boss lady!”
Well, now Astoria’s gaze grew even stranger, though she concealed it well. She didn’t let Pansy and the others notice anything amiss, her faint smile seeming almost envious of their friendship.
And it was only after Goyle and Crabbe quieted down that Draco, rubbing his Crookshanks, turned to look at them.
“Spill it. Why didn’t you go provoke Potter and his lot?”
Draco, who knew Goyle and the others well, didn’t believe these two would easily pass up such a golden opportunity. And indeed, that was precisely the case.
“Heh heh, it’s because we overheard something important, so we rushed over to tell you, Draco.”
As he said this, Goyle shot a discreet glance toward Astoria, as if silently warning Draco of something.
Astoria, ever sharp, instantly grasped the implication.
“I’ll be off then. My sister must be worried sick if she hasn’t seen me.”
She gave her robes a gentle tug, her flawless smile leaving the two burly blokes momentarily flustered. This drew a disapproving snort from Pansy standing nearby...
As Astoria’s figure vanished into the compartment, Draco finally shook his head.
“Speak.”
Those two simple words finally reminded Goyle of his primary purpose for coming.
“Draco, this year’s Quidditch tournament seems to have run into trouble.”
“Quidditch?”
Ever since learning of Voldemort’s possible return, Draco had grown increasingly indifferent to the school’s various honors.
Thus, upon hearing Goyle’s words, Draco remained unenthusiastic, while Pansy beside him grew noticeably tense.
“What trouble? Last year, because of the Basilisk, the championship victory was far from perfect. I won’t let that happen again this year.”
“It’s those Weasley twins again. Word is they’re rallying other houses to team up against us Slytherins.”
“Team up?”
“Yeah. Apparently they’re determined to make sure no Slytherin gets the Quidditch Cup this year. Who knows what they’re scheming.”
“Hmph. Even if that’s the case, we’ve got Draco here. No matter what schemes they cook up, they won’t beat us. Right, Draco?”
Pansy and Goyle’s conversation made Draco, who was stroking Crookshanks nearby, raise an eyebrow.
If that’s really the case... well, that could be interesting.