Who let this Dementor into Hogwarts!

Chapter 332 I'm not afraid of my brothers suffering, I'm afraid of my brothers driving Land Rovers.
“But dancing in public would be so awkward…” Harry said reluctantly. “And I’d have to ask a girl out… How am I supposed to get a girl out of a crowd? I’d be laughed at for ages—”

Harry is right.

The girls at Hogwarts now always move in groups and spawn in large numbers, appearing in various parts of the castle, even in the corridor on the eighth floor where the tapestry of the giant club beating Barnabas hangs.

"When did Hogwarts get so many women?" Ron asked incredulously as he squeezed between Cohen and Harry during a Charms class break. "I feel like the number of girls has increased at least fivefold!"

“That’s because nobody wants to be all alone at the Christmas ball,” Cohen said. “No wonder Dumbledore didn’t react much when I threatened him with dating last time—he was prepared all along… That old man is so shrewd…”

“Shouldn’t they be going to act alone…” Harry said dejectedly. Just then, about a dozen girls passed by them, casting a lot of glances at the three of them and whispering and giggling among themselves. “Otherwise, who would dare to walk into the middle of the crowd and ask, ‘Do you want to come to the ball with me?’”

"I guess it's because they don't want to lose to their friends..." Ron said thoughtfully. "For example, if a girl invited you guys out, I would definitely feel terrible—but if I were next to you, the girl who invited you would definitely think it over again..."

"I'm not afraid of my brother suffering, I'm afraid of my brother driving a Land Rover, right?" Cohen clicked his tongue.

"What is a Land Rover?" Ron asked curiously.

“I know that,” Harry said. “It’s a car brand—my uncle used to talk about it, and it’s quite expensive…”

“I don’t know much about cars, this feels like a topic my dad would like to talk about.” Ron shook his head. “Have you decided who to invite?”

Harry didn't answer—he seemed to have someone else on his mind.

“I have my own way,” Cohen said mysteriously.

"Don't try to be brave. You haven't even talked to any girls." Ron put his arm around Cohen and Harry's shoulders, one on each arm, and said to Cohen first, "Then let me ask you, how many girls are there in Gryffindor's fourth year?"

“Who would be counting the number of fourth-grade girls?” Cohen said helplessly. “I’m not some kind of pervert.”

“I do have an idea…” Harry said somewhat hesitantly, “but I’m not very confident about inviting her—”

“You’ll be fine.” To preserve their newly repaired friendship, Ron tried his best to suppress the bitterness in his words. “Listen, you’re warriors, no girl will refuse you—they all want to be the lead dancer…”

"Um... Cohen, right..."

No sooner had Ron finished speaking than a girl ran up to them, her face flushed as she stared at the hem of Cohen's robe:
"Did you have a date for your dance?"

"Huh? Who are you?"

Cohen was stunned for a moment—this girl wasn't from Gryffindor, or even Hogwarts at all; she was wearing a dress embroidered with Beauxbatons' coat of arms.

“My name is Colette—ah!” She ran off before she could finish her sentence, because she saw another group of Beauxbatons girls appear from the other end of the corridor.

“Look,” Ron said enviously.

"Then you'll go find her and bring her back?" Cohen said to Ron. "She's yours—I have someone in mind, so I won't get entangled with anyone else." "Really?" Ron asked suspiciously. "You know, some things are okay to lie to your brothers, but there's no need to lie to yourself..."

“We’ll find out by Christmas,” Cohen said.

Girls are inviting Cohen and Harry more often as Christmas approaches.

On Monday alone, at least twelve girls came to see Cohen and Harry.

There were not only fourth and third graders, but also fifth and sixth graders.

The most terrifying thing was a pair of extremely tall fifth-grade girls who looked like they would knock anyone out and force themselves on them if they disagreed.

"These two are actually better looking than the first ones," Ron commented fairly after he had finished laughing.

“Their biceps are almost bigger than Harry’s ass,” Cohen shook his head. “They won’t be happy, not even for one night…”

“Is my butt that small? No—is my butt that big? No—” Harry became increasingly puzzled. “She’s a foot taller than me. Just imagine how ridiculous I would be if I danced with her…”

"I still have a little over a week left, and I need to go find my dance partner too." After putting his bag back in his dorm after class, Cohen gave up his plan to go see Hagrid with them and said goodbye to the two of them, "Get ready in advance."

Because Cohen finally managed to find a spot on the eighth floor with very few people in the corridor, he could only enter the Room of Requirement at night these days. During the day, there would be a few chattering girls in this dead-end alley discussing which boy to invite.

"I heard about the Christmas ball," the Earl asked Cohen with a gossipy air as Cohen entered. "You look all alone—didn't you manage to invite any girls? The little Dementors weren't popular either—"

“I’m rather introverted and I wouldn’t dance with a strange girl,” Cohen said, walking straight to the table where his suitcase was placed.

"So, are you planning to invite that little snake monster?" Count Lezi pressed Cohen, "Dancing with a snake in public...you'll be famous—"

The man and the bird entered the box together. The construction of the castle was nearing completion; at least its shell was finished. What followed was another long period of decoration.

Another makeshift pile of stones was also built next to Norber's lair. Norber's nest-building skills were still not very sophisticated, but at least there was a hole now.

"Or find a unicorn?" the Earl asked, circling around Cohen. "It can't be me, can it? Humans and birds can't jump together—and I won't dance with you, especially after you made me write thirteen papers—unless you promise me you won't let me do anything an owl shouldn't do, and you give me ten galleons a month to go find a female owl..."

"Your last sentence is your real intention," Cohen said viciously. "Homework is an owl's final destination! Besides, what owl pays a salary in addition to food and lodging—you were bought outright!"

“Internal purchases are also part of a sinister business plan,” the Earl said, raising his head.

“Making you do your homework was something I planned long before I bought you,” Cohen said, turning his head away.

(End of this chapter)