The Dementors want to turn Neville and Ron into new toys for the black-robed skeleton.
One has to admit.
It's probably truly gained intelligence.
It has realized the world-shaking truth that dead little wizards don't harm it. This is wisdom most Dementors lack, and the black-robed skeleton is very interested in the two little wizards.
"Alright."
The black-robed skeleton handed over the two little wizards.
It's anyone's guess how it will "play" with the unfortunate two. Suffice to say, whatever Neville and Ron are about to endure, they'll probably never want to go night strolling again in their lives.
Especially Ron.
Fortunately, no one witnessed their predicament here, particularly no students from Slytherin, or else the story of Ron wetting his pants would spread throughout all of Hogwarts.
The Slytherin students would enjoy spreading tales of Gryffindor's embarrassment. Especially a Gryffindor student wetting his pants, an incident that would give Slytherin a chance to mock their "courage" for a full seven years, maybe longer, potentially becoming part of lore and used by every Slytherin student to attack Gryffindor College in the future.
From a certain angle.
Ron wetting his pants is bound to become the disgrace of Gryffindor.
But of course.
Perhaps Ron doesn't care.
Given that he's been making quite a fool of himself since the start of the school year. Sometimes, the joke goes on and on, and maybe he becomes completely numb to it or even starts enjoying it. Nevertheless, whatever happens, tonight's experience will definitely leave an indelible shadow in Neville and Ron's hearts.
Perhaps.
For them, especially Ron's rash nature, it might have a somewhat positive corrective effect—the future impact of such an experience on Ron and Neville is impossible to predict as either good or bad.
In any case.
They surely won't enjoy being the toys of the black-robed skeleton.
...
Putting aside Ron and Neville's "adventure."
Elsewhere.
The night was as dark as ink.
A thin mist blanketed the edge of the Forbidden Forest.
The outlines of the trees appeared especially menacing in the moonlight. Snape dragged Hermione's wrist, his pace swift, the black robe swirling around like bat wings, looking very much like a bat.
No wonder the students gave him this nickname.
His steps were hurried.
Very soon, he had dragged Hermione to the outside of the Forbidden Forest, and she was panting heavily, obviously not well trained physically like a proper wizard due to not having grown long legs yet.
"Wait, wait."
Hermione felt her lungs were about to burst.
She somewhat missed Ian's magic flying carpet.
Snape's wand silently slipped into his palm, its tip emitting a faint green light, illuminating the bushes ahead. The damp mist clung to the fir branches like rotting cotton.
The fluorescent glow at the tip of the wand made the cobwebs shine with a sinister hue.
"Which direction is it?" Snape's voice was as cold as ice, cutting through the wailing winds deep within the Forbidden Forest without a spare glance for Hermione.
"That way, Professor… I remember very clearly, we came back from there." Hermione's fingers were trembling uncontrollably, pointing to the interwoven darkness of the southeast.
The air there seemed coagulated, even the faintest insect chirps swallowed by some invisible force.
It's undeniable.
The scholar girl still stands out.
This might be why Snape chose to bring Hermione along rather than selecting Neville or Ron. At least Hermione genuinely records things, whereas if Neville or Ron came here, they'd probably just be at a loss.
Unable to articulate anything.
Eventually, Snape would have to use Legilimency to find direction—undoubtedly the older, the wiser, Snape chose Hermione evidently due to her attentiveness.
"Hmm."
The magic potion class professor nodded.
With a vigilant expression, he led Hermione into the Forbidden Forest.
At this point.
The Slytherin College's headmaster didn't forget to take the opportunity to disparage his most disliked college.
"You foolish bunch of Gryffindor, ignorant little wizards, have absolutely no idea of the dangers in the Forbidden Forest." He snorted, the sound of his boots crushing dry leaves startled a piercing scream, "The Forbidden Forest harbors not just harmless beings like the Tree-Protecting Leprechaun, but many dangerous life forms even adult wizards struggle to contend with."
"The white bones buried beneath those tree roots, each inscribed with the names of fools trying to challenge the laws of nature, I imagine you wouldn't want to know how many wizards have met their end in this forest."
Snape's voice was eerie.
It was like trying to frighten a child. Truth be told, upon reaching the edge of the Forbidden Forest, he wasn't as anxious as earlier because one could already hear the disturbances within the Forbidden Forest.
No significant commotion had ensued within the Forbidden Forest so far, either proving Ian hadn't yet found the giant dragon, or confirming Ian had already been devoured by it.
In either case.
Anyone with eyes can discern that haste serves no purpose anymore. Naturally, Snape thought Ian might be lost given that he knew well his nephew's poor sense of direction.
"I..."
Confronting Snape's sarcasm, Hermione was just about to say something.
"Do not argue with me." Snape anticipated Hermione's possible actions, "Surviving out here, perhaps owes to your ancestors below banging their heads and breaking the coffin board."
His voice remained as sharp and acerbic.