157: Chapter 157 The Coldness of the Basement

"I've had enough." Draco wrapped the blanket around his shoulders, his complexion so poor that even Pansy didn't mock him. "The Dungeon is like a branch of Azkaban. It's cold even when sleeping. What on earth is the Ministry of Magic putting those things at the school gates for?"

The fireplace in the Common Room was lit, but the flames were stunted. Moisture seeped from the stone walls, and water droplets hung on the edges of the silver-green tapestries. Several younger students huddled by the fireplace, refusing to return to their dormitories.

Zabini tightened his scarf, still sitting with refined posture: "To make Fudge look like he's doing something in the newspapers."

Nott lowered his head to write, the pencil tip scratching across the parchment: "It was confirmed this morning that there are six Dementors outside the main gate. Two by the Black Lake, two at the main entrance, and two in the direction of the Forbidden Forest. The rotation time is unknown."

Draco turned his head to look at him: "Where did you get those numbers?"

"The portraits." Nott folded the parchment. "The armor might count wrong, but the portraits won't. They've been complaining all night, saying the Black cloaks are blocking the view."

Pansy stood by the fireplace with her arms crossed: "The girls' dormitory is cold too. Two first-years cried once, and I scolded them back. If this continues, Slytherin won't lose to Gryffindor; we'll lose to frostbite first."

Allen sat on the sofa closest to the shadows, holding an excerpt of a brief history of spatial magic. The edges of the pages were curled from the dampness, and he closed the book after reading two lines.

The impact of the Dementors on the Castle lasted longer than expected. The Hogwarts wards blocked intrusions, but not the stationing authorized by the Ministry of Magic. The chill pressed down along the lake breeze, stone bridges, entrance halls, and underground pipes, and the Slytherin Dungeon bore the brunt of it.

Draco saw Allen didn't react, his anger rising: "Aren't you cold?"

"Cold."

"You look like you're about to fall asleep."

"You can sleep even when it's cold."

Zabini chuckled, and Pansy threw a cushion at him, but missed.

Nott looked up: "There was trouble in Gryffindor during the Defense Against the Dark Arts class this morning."

Draco immediately perked up: "Did Potter faint again?"

"A Boggart." Nott pulled out a second piece of paper. "Lupin had the students practice dealing with fear. When it was Harry's turn, the Boggart turned into a Dementor. Lupin blocked it in advance and turned it into a full moon."

Allen raised his eyes.

Draco reacted half a beat late, then looked at Allen: "A full moon?"

Zabini's fingers paused on the candy box: "He blocked it too quickly."

Nott's pencil tapped twice on the paper: "Harry didn't actually face the complete Boggart. Lupin assessed the risk even before the students. The word from Gryffindor is that the Professor was protecting the student."

Pansy frowned: "Then what about the full moon?"

There were younger students near the Common Room, so Draco immediately lowered his voice: "Don't talk about it here."

Allen put the book back into his bag: "Lupin knows what Harry is afraid of, and he didn't want the whole class to see the aftermath. As for the full moon, don't touch it for now."

Zabini added softly: "Openly curse Black, don't curse Lupin. I remember."

Draco wrapped the blanket tighter: "I don't want to curse anyone right now; I just want the Dungeon to warm up."

Just as he finished speaking, the flames in the fireplace were suppressed by a gust of cold wind, and several first-years shivered simultaneously. Pansy cursed, walked over, and drove the younger students near the door back to the sofa.

Allen watched the water droplets on the stone wall. The shaded side of the Dungeon connected to the Black Lake, and the dampness mixed with the chill of the Dementors; ordinary warming Charms would be quickly consumed. If he used flame-type magic, Snape would chase him down to deduct points.

But the temperature in the Portable Space was stable.

Allen reached into his sleeve, his fingertips pressing against a knut. He opened a tiny slit in the Portable Space, positioning it in the corner between the back of the fireplace and the stone wall. The gap was less than half a finger wide, invisible to outsiders, allowing only the stable air from within the space to slowly displace out.

Void looked up beside the ebony box, its tail tip lightly touching the edge of the space. The cracked pocket watch did not light up. The fake shell outside Peter's cage tightened to prevent emotions from leaking out and being touched by the Dementors outside the door from a distance.

The flames in the fireplace quickly rose. The water droplets on the stone wall shrank, and the dampness on the edge of the carpet receded an inch. The younger students were the first to notice; the crying stopped, and someone reached their hand toward the fire, full of suspicion.

Pansy turned her head: "Did the fire get bigger?"

Draco was also stunned, then looked at Allen. Allen was leaning on the sofa, his eyes half-closed, as if he had already fallen asleep.

Zabini looked at the fireplace, then at Allen's sleeve, but said nothing. He handed the candy box to the younger student next to him: "Eat one. Don't ask."

Nott lowered his eyes, noting that moment in his mind, but didn't write it down.

Draco walked over to Allen, lowering his voice: "You did this?"

Allen didn't open his eyes: "The fireplace is pulling its weight."

"The fireplace is pulling its weight, my foot." Draco pulled the blanket off his shoulders, speaking quickly, "If Snape finds out the temperature in the Dungeon has risen, he'll investigate."

"He'll investigate the fireplace."

"Stop brushing me off."

Allen turned a page of his book, his voice very low: "The Dementors at the door are more troublesome than Snape. If the younger students cry for too long, they'll attract the Professor."

Draco paused.

This sounded harsh, but it was true. If widespread panic occurred in the Slytherin Dungeon, Snape would definitely come down to check. If Snape came, Legilimency, questioning, and patrols would follow. Pressing the temperature to a stable level in advance meant avoiding trouble.

Draco held it in for a long time, then finally tossed the blanket back onto the back of the chair: "Consider me owing you one."

Allen didn't respond.

Pansy heard half the sentence and walked over to ask: "Owing what?"

Draco immediately resumed his Malfoy young master face: "Owing myself a chance not to curse the Ministry of Magic."

Pansy snorted coldly: "You'd better not curse them. There are their people everywhere outside now."

Nott spoke up at this time: "After the Ministry of Magic stationed themselves, two types of students appeared in the Castle. The first type wants to find Black to become famous, and the second type wants to use the Dementors to scare people. Flint belongs to the second type."

Draco frowned: "What did he do again?"

"He took two sixth-years and imitated Dementors in the corridor, scaring a Hufflepuff first-year to tears." Nott pushed the note to him, "Snape deducted twenty points from them and gave them detention."

Zabini shook his head: "Flint is really consistent. Every year he manages to get himself into new trouble."

Draco finished reading the note, his expression improved slightly: "Serves him right."

Allen raised his eyes: "Don't go near Flint."

"I know." Draco tossed the note back onto the table, "He's in detention now, so he definitely wants to find someone to vent on. I won't be a target."

Pansy looked at Draco, as if confirming if he was still himself: "You've really changed this year."

Draco was immediately displeased: "I wasn't stupid before either."

Zabini looked at Nott in a coordinated manner: "Does the file need to be accurate?"

Nott lowered his head and wrote a line: "Draco, self-assessment distorted."

Draco lunged to grab the paper, and finally, there were a few low laughs in the Common Room. The younger students relaxed as well, and the crowded shoulders by the fireplace spread out a little.

Allen closed his eyes, his consciousness sinking into the Portable Space. The entrance to the space maintained a slit, consuming little energy, but it was like holding up an umbrella in a cold current. The silver-eyed Black snake coiled at the boundary, its tail tip calibrating the size of the gap little by little.

Peter was curled into a ball, frightened by the chill. Allen gave him two seconds of speaking permission.

"Dementors... they can smell sin!" Peter's voice trembled, "I can't be too close to them! Black will come, the Dementors will also enter the Castle, they will drag me out!"

"Did they touch you just now?"

"The outer layer touched a little, only a little." Peter was so anxious he was about to cry, "But if it happens too many times, there will be problems. They eat fear, they eat memories, and I am full of..."

The seal closed.

Allen didn't let him finish. The fear on Peter was a dirty lamp; even if the Dementors were far away, they would turn their heads this way. The three-layer fake shell could block short-term contact, but long-term stationing required adjustments.

"Fourth layer of the cage." Allen wrote on the file, "Isolate the chill, and don't let emotions leak out. Complete it before the Dementors enter the Castle."

Beside the ebony box, the cracked pocket watch chimed softly. There was no reaction from the gold patterns on the north side, indicating that the time side had not been affected yet. It was just the soul pressure brought by the Dementors that made the outer edge of the Portable Space more sensitive.

The entrance to the Common Room opened, and Snape walked in. The younger students immediately stood straight, and Draco also restrained his movements. The firelight from the fireplace reflected on the edge of his Black robes, and water vapor left a faint trace on the floor.

Snape's gaze stopped on the fireplace.

Draco looked at Allen subconsciously, then forcibly turned his head back. Zabini closed the candy box, Nott closed his old book, and Pansy blocked the younger students behind her.

"All students stay in the Common Room tonight." Snape spoke, "No one is allowed to leave the Dungeon for reasons of seeing Dementors, finding Black, or spreading gossip. If caught wandering at night, the detention will last until Christmas."

Flint was not there, and several older students looked stiff. Snape's gaze moved over them and finally landed on Allen.

Allen leaned in the sofa, the book covering his lap, his breathing steady. As if he had fallen asleep.

Snape looked at the fireplace, then at Allen's sleeve, his voice lower: "Mr. Potter."

Allen opened his eyes: "Professor."

"The Dungeon is very warm."

Draco's back tensed. Pansy's fingers tightened on her cuffs. Nott's pencil stopped in the crease of the book.

Allen looked at Snape: "The fireplace is pulling its weight."

Zabini almost bit his candy in half.

Snape stared at him, and after a long while turned to the fireplace, tapping his wand in the air. The flames were normal, the ashes were normal, and the residual warming charm was zero. There were traces of moisture receding in the corner, but no source of casting could be found.

"Submit a twelve-inch essay tomorrow." Snape withdrew his wand, "Discuss the reasons for the failure of warming Charms in a Dementor environment."

Allen nodded: "Yes, Professor."

Snape turned and left, his Black robes sweeping across the stone floor. After the entrance closed, Draco let out the breath he had been holding: "He was definitely suspecting you just now."

Allen opened the book: "He has always been suspicious."

Pansy looked at the fireplace, her voice lower: "Whoever made it warm, the younger students can sleep tonight."

Draco looked away: "Thank the fireplace."

Zabini laughed: "Mr. Fireplace deserves a lot of credit."

Allen didn't speak again. The gap in the space behind the fireplace was maintained at less than a finger's width until the Common Room slowly quieted down. The Dementors wandered outside the Castle, and the Dungeon finally stopped shivering.

He added a sentence to the end of the file: The stationing of Dementors affects the underground environment. Space ventilation can stabilize the team, with low consumption and medium risk.

When the pen tip stopped, the lake wind outside hit the stone wall.

The oppression of the Castle did not recede.

It was just that a corner of the Slytherin Dungeon had been quietly protected by him.