Cohen used to be quite the free-spirited Dementor...
Until his mother uttered those dreaded words: "You know it's class time—why aren't you there yet?"
"Aren't you supposed to be guarding Herbert?"
Cohen grumbled as Arnold escorted him to the Herbology classroom.
"Why are you watching me now? Herbert's way more dangerous than I am…"
Arnold sighed and shot Cohen a look that clearly said, "Do you really think I believe that?"
"No wonder your dad doesn't trust you to go to class alone," he said, patting Cohen on the back and nudging him toward Greenhouse Three. "Now get to class."
Only once Cohen pushed open the door and entered the greenhouse did Arnold finally walk away.
"Mr. Norton, you're fifteen minutes late," Professor Sprout said, her face slightly stern.
"There was a family emergency, Professor," Cohen explained.
Seeing he wasn't just being lazy, Professor Sprout's expression softened.
"Find an empty seat. Today we're learning to distinguish between Firecrab Lilies and Devil's Snare, and also the uses of the lilies. Now, as I was saying…"
"What happened?"
Harry asked in a low voice the moment Cohen sat beside him in the empty seat that had long been saved.
"That Obliviator?"
"He's an Auror now," Cohen replied. "Just a misunderstanding when my parents ran into my uncle. It's all cleared up now."
"I thought—" Harry began, then realization dawned on his face.
"Ever since you started hanging out with Sirius, you've changed," Cohen sighed dramatically. "The man's ruined your innocence. Now all you think about is dirty jokes and moral ambiguity…"
"?"
"Trim the tendrils! Trim the tendrils!" Professor Sprout reminded, eyeing Cohen and Harry. "Or they'll retreat back into the soil."
—
By the end of Herbology class, everyone was covered in flecks of flying dirt. Pruning the plump tendrils of Firecrab Lilies wasn't easy—they recoiled into the soil in pain, and digging them up was the only way to finish the job. They looked like Devil's Snare but behaved completely differently.
"Want to run a training drill this afternoon?" Harry asked as they walked back to the castle. "I wrote to Sirius—he said to use the Eye-Blinding Hex since dragon eyes are fragile. If it's a female dragon, maybe Norbert can help us train?"
"I've got to take my trunk to my mum for a check-up," Cohen said. "Shouldn't take long though. Norbert can help you practice later—but go easy, yeah? It's just training. No need to actually poke her in the eyes."
"Shouldn't Norbert be more worried about not roasting me to a crisp…" Harry muttered. "Don't worry, I won't really aim for her eyes. I'm genuinely afraid she'll get mad if I do."
After lunch, Cohen went to fetch his trunk, while Harry headed early to the newly set-up tent grounds to wait for Sirius.
When Cohen returned to Herbert's tent, several new tents had sprung up around the area.
"Wait, Hogwarts really isn't giving you guys rooms in the castle?"
Cohen asked, eyeing the freshly pitched tents belonging to Mr. Diggory and Sirius. He turned to Edward, puzzled. "I need to have a word with Dumbledore…"
It wasn't just Harry and Cohen—Cedric had also moved out to the campgrounds and was chatting with his father, Amos Diggory, about the upcoming Tournament. Mr. Diggory looked proud, though not particularly pleased—probably because the Daily Prophet had featured Cohen and Harry on its front and second pages, rather than Cedric. They were too young for the Tournament, after all; Cedric should've been Hogwarts' one and only champion.
"Your dad insisted on the 'authentic Hogwarts camping experience,'" Arnold explained. "Really, only Herbert and I needed a tent—he's still a prisoner, and Dumbledore has to ensure student safety."
"What nonsense are you muttering about me in front of my son?" Edward elbowed Arnold in the ribs. "It's not just me—Amos and Sirius pitched tents too!"
"That's because you started it," Arnold shot back, elbowing him just as hard. "They saw your tent and assumed Hogwarts wanted all the champions' families out here."
"Would you two just go inside already?"
Rose poked her head out of a tent. "Cohen's here too? We were just about to go to the castle to find you."
"I figured I'd save you the trouble," Cohen replied, lifting his trunk. He followed Edward and Arnold into the tent.
Inside, Herbert sat on a chair in the living area. His bruises were gone, but his expression was still weary and withdrawn.
Being around Edward and Rose made him visibly awkward, even though they no longer blamed him after learning the truth. His hands were clasped nervously between his knees, one leg bouncing in anxiety.
"So this is why Cohen always carries this trunk around,"
Rose said, inspecting the trunk. "And you wouldn't let me touch it—"
"You've said that three times already today," Edward scratched his head. "I figured you would've noticed sooner…"
"Take me to Vienna next month and I'll forgive you," Rose said, unlocking the trunk with Cohen's guidance. "What happens if you open it the wrong way?"
"If you don't knock three times, Sisoko pops out to give you a scare," Cohen said. "Sisoko's a—"
"The basilisk, right? Herbert and your dad told me about it—and how it scared the life out of your dad," Rose nodded. "But I thought a basilisk's stare was deadly?"
"I added safeguards," Cohen explained. "Learned from Nicolas and Dumbledore…"
"Want to take a look, dear?" Edward coaxed. "You've got way more guts than I do—you're not afraid of these things, are you?"
"You should take a look too," Cohen said, tugging Herbert's sleeve.
"M-me?" Herbert hesitated, unsure whether he should intrude on this "family moment."
"Didn't you say you wanted to see Sisoko again?" Cohen urged. "Besides, you might end up living here too."
"What?" Herbert frowned at that last bit. "Don't make trouble on my account—"
"I'm not picking a fight with the Ministry," Cohen said firmly. "Relax, I'm not dumb enough to break you out while you're still serving time. Now come on—let's go."