Who let this Dementor into Hogwarts!

Chapter 228 Christmas Eve "Terror"

There was no point in Yali complaining; Cohen wouldn't allow her to drink until her blood alcohol level dropped.

After delivering the gifts, Cohen and the black goat decorated a fir tree that was moved from the unicorn's nest. Due to the living habits of the unicorns, Cohen had previously allocated a piece of land for them to plant trees.

However, the decorations on this Christmas tree are not as "normal" as those on humans. At the strong request of the little basilisk and the lion, the colorful lights that were originally hung were replaced with lamb legs and pork chops.

"Why does the painting style feel a bit bloody and scary?"

When Cohen finished, he stood back and looked at his work—which, he must admit, looked nothing like a Christmas tree.

Sheep and pig blood soaked the fir branches, the green and red trees complemented by the bloody flesh hanging from the treetops...

But the smell of blood did not make Cohen feel nauseous. Except for the unicorn, the other animals did not feel anything unusual about the tree, and most of them even seemed to have a greater appetite.

The little basilisk bit a leg of lamb on a tree. Since the branches of the tree were fixed by Cohen with a hardening spell, it hung upright on it, shaking its body in the air and trying to pull the leg of lamb off.

The lion was much stronger, especially when its limbs could touch the ground. It bit a smaller piece of meat hanging on the lower part of the "Christmas tree" and pulled the meat off the tree with one force.

"Be gentle when eating," the black goat reminded the lion. Because the lion likes to shake its head when tearing the meat, and the black goat's book is leaning against the back of the lion's head, "You don't need to shake it so much to bite it off."

【I feel hungry now.】

Sissoko said it had put the scarf around it, but not around its body, but piled on top of its head.

"Why do you look just like Quirrell..." Cohen smacked his lips. "If someone didn't know, they'd think you had a Voldemort over your head, too."

"Sophia needs something to cushion her so she'll be more comfortable. Even at this size, she still likes to nestle on top of my head..." Although his words were meant to sound disdainful, Sissoko's tone wasn't at all disdainful. "In a few months, she'll shed her skin. Once she grows up, she won't be able to stay on my head anymore."

Before leaving, Cohen left the little Dementor Mick here as well.

When asked what he wanted for Christmas, Mick wouldn't say - so Cohen gave him some silk clothes.

It would be difficult for normal people to imagine a Dementor with a bunch of sweaters and scarves hanging on his body.

But Mick looked very happy, so Cohen didn't care how strange it looked - considering that the count no longer lived here, the Dementors living here would not panic any creature, so Cohen let Mick choose a room in the cabin to live in, and moved all the luggage out of Cohen's pockets.

The smell of Cohen was everywhere here, so Mick didn't feel any discomfort about moving. There were also many creatures here, which were much more interesting than his empty pockets.

After arranging everything, Cohen climbed out of the box and prepared to go to sleep.

"Cuckoo?"

The colorful owl had been released from its cage and was leaning over the Count, stretching its face and calling something—but Cohen couldn't understand what the owl was saying.

"No," said the Count, glancing over his shoulder.

"Cuckoo?"

"No," the Count refused.

"Cuckoo?"

"I have a bottom line." The count moved his body.

"How rare! You would actually reject another owl's advances." Cohen said admiringly.

"If you keep talking like that, your future memoirs will turn into bizarre, indecent, and pornographic fiction," the Count said. "When did you learn to speak owl?"

"No, I guess."

Cohen changed into his pajamas.
"Anything that has anything to do with you will definitely become perverted."

"Anything that gets involved with you is bound to be bad," the Count responded. "How did you find the only owl related to me among a bunch of owls? Or was this actually part of your plan? You are so terrible..."

"Nonsense! The manager of Ella's Owl Shop helped me choose it, and I specifically told her I wanted a female. People have misunderstood me as a pervert who loves owls."

Cohen crawled into bed. "..." The Count sighed.

The colorful bird came close to the count.

"Cuckoo?"
-
Late at night, Cohen's room welcomed two uninvited guests.

Dark clouds blocked the moonlight, and everything was as dark as a ball of spilled ink.

One was dressed in pitch-black clothes that almost blended into the night, and so was the other.

"Damn it! Does this family really have a million pounds in cash?" Man in Black A muttered in a low voice. "Is the information you gave me fake? I've been following them for several days. What millionaire would go to the Hellfire Club every Saturday to play Dungeons & Dragons?"

"We have to steal something, right? We haven't closed a single sale in two months, so we have to take something with us this time..."

Man in Black B said,
"At least the rest of the information that person gave was correct. This family never locks the door..."

"That's even more fucked up!" A said angrily, "Which rich family doesn't lock their doors?!"

"Cuckoo-"

The Count stared at the two men curiously from inside the cage.

"Sh ...

The sound is indeed like a dove.

"I'm a fucking owl..."

The Earl couldn't help but curse under his breath.

"Who's talking?" B asked alertly.

"The TV, the whole family is watching TV downstairs." A fumbled around in the cabinets in the room. "Ignore the silly cooing bird and quickly search the whole room. If we can't find it here, we'll go to the next room. I've seen that old movie the family is watching, and they're only a third of the way through. We still have a full hour to finish searching the house..."

First, there was the wardrobe, which contained nothing for money.

Then there's the bookshelf, which is full of waste paper.

The bedside table... nothing.

"Child!" A exclaimed in surprise after touching the living person on the bed.

"Keep your voice down——"

"Gurgle..." The child on the bed turned over.

"Did you bring the sleeping pills?" A asked in a low voice, "Don't let this little brat wake up and scream..."

"We've taken it..." B pulled out a small bottle from his pocket and gently smeared the drug under Cohen's nose. "If we really don't get the money, we'll take the kid with us..."

The Count watched this scene with great interest.

"Coo, coo, coo?" The colorful owl was also very curious.

"Is this thing useful for birds?" B asked worriedly.

"The pigeons aren't making a loud noise." A glanced at the birdcages of the two birds and waved to B, "Go on—"

Suddenly, he stopped.

A pair of large yellow eyes were staring at them in the darkness.

"What the hell?"

(End of this chapter)