As for which leg gets chomped, that depends entirely on the moods of Old Water Snake and the Griffin.
[Something feels off.] Old Water Snake hissed, suddenly uneasy after agreeing to Cohen's "bite wherever I point" request.
[You said it yourself, my dear grandson wouldn't trick me, would he?] Cohen said confidently, slinging an arm around Old Water Snake's head.
The plan from there was straightforward.
First, the Griffin would carry Cohen and Old Water Snake to track down the poachers. After dealing with them, they'd follow the trail to sniff out the poachers' inside contacts at the Ministry of Magic.
"No wonder even the gatekeepers were trying to stop us," Rolf recalled, cursing under his breath.
"Even the Muggle city hall folks are in on it. I reckon we've got a pretty good idea of who the Ministry's moles are," Cohen said. "But Rolf, you and your granddad need to stay here and keep an eye on these little critters."
The Griffin gave Rolf and the others a respectful bow.
[You've never been this polite to me before,] Old Water Snake hissed indignantly at the Griffin.
As for Newt—he was already swarmed by the baby creatures, completely unable to break free. Cohen had no idea how Newt managed to calm a whole pack of them with just a single call, but it was clear that with the Griffin gone, Newt wasn't going anywhere.
"So, what's the plan after we sort this mess out?" Rolf asked the Griffin. "If, like Cohen says, the Greek Ministry of Magic ends up putting out a warrant for you…"
"They'd have to catch us first," Cohen said with a dismissive wave. "If we don't get caught, it's just an unsolved case."
If their ambush on Ministry officials got exposed, Cohen would simply whisk the Griffin and its posse of little creatures into his suitcase. It'd give Old Water Snake and the baby Basilisk some company, at least.
---
By late morning, with the Griffin leading the way, Cohen and Old Water Snake tracked the poachers to an old, rundown shipyard in Patras.
Rusty cranes, moss-covered steel beams, and deserted workshops greeted them.
"They're underground," the Griffin said, turning its head to Cohen, who was perched on its back.
Cohen and Old Water Snake were nestled comfortably on the Griffin's back, with the suitcase hooked securely by Old Water Snake's tail—saving Cohen the hassle of carrying it himself. They were cloaked in Old Water Snake's invisibility magic, their voices hushed to avoid detection. The sound of waves crashing against the docks outside helped mask any noise.
"Greek wizards sure love building their hideouts in pocket dimensions," Cohen muttered.
Probably because land was scarce, they made the most of what they had—though that was only true for wizards. Muggle spaces were far less cramped. Greek wizards also had to spend energy corralling dangerous creatures like Chimaeras into areas far from Muggles and regular wizards, which limited their room to maneuver. It wasn't surprising they'd developed magic to make up for it.
"The entrance is by the pipes. I'll take you there," the Griffin said, leading Cohen to a rusty pipe opening in a corner.
The pipe was blocked by a loose wire mesh, with a faint light glowing from deep within. By normal standards, the pipe was barely wide enough for a regular-sized human to crawl through—let alone a Griffin. But the Griffin didn't hesitate. It tore away the mesh with its beak and plunged in, carrying Cohen and Old Water Snake along.
The narrow pipe seemed to widen instantly. Cohen felt gravity shift for a split second, and they free-fell through the pipe for a few moments before sliding out at the glowing endpoint.
"Hurry up! That guy said Cohen Norton's already been spotted at city hall. Pack up quick!" a long-haired man in a dark silver robe barked. "He's probably close to finding this place—those disappearances at the Triwizard Tournament must be because of…"
The room was massive, filled with black iron cages. Eight people in matching dark silver robes were frantically packing jars of animal organs preserved in some kind of liquid.
All eight were there. Cohen was pleased.
But the decor? Not so much. The place reminded him unsettlingly of the basement at Borgin and Burkes.
"Maybe we could take him?" one of the Silver Keys suggested. "All our fusion experiments failed because we're missing something. If we could just take him down together—or even just get some of his blood…"
"Read too many books and lost your mind?" the leader of the group snapped, his voice dripping with anger. "You think you're tougher than Samir? Or that you can summon a Patronus?"
Cohen recognized the name—Samir, one of the Silver Keys from the Triwizard Tournament, the first one Cohen had caught and… refined.
"I just think we're making Cohen Norton out to be scarier than he is," the other argued. "The Silver Key prayers say He only brings the end when He awakens. Right now, he's just a mixed-blood, man-made Chimaera…"
"Then you stay and deal with him," the leader shot back.
The other seven, having packed their precious materials, raised their wands, ready to Apparate away—
But Cohen was faster. He sucked the emotions out of the room in one go. Thanks to their odd "let's all Apparate together" mentality, he didn't even have to chase them down to stop their escape.
A bone-chilling cold swept through the group, making them shiver.
"Is one of the Dementors loose?" one stammered.
"Er, Erwin… we didn't capture any Dementors…" another replied.
"That's because I'm here," Cohen said, his voice low and eerie.
Old Water Snake slowly dropped the invisibility charm. Cohen, now in his Dementor-like form, hovered behind the eight, peering at them through the shadowy hood with keen interest.
"Expecto Patronum!" one of them tried, voice trembling with fear. But instead of a Patronus, a swarm of writhing soul-maggots erupted, devouring him in seconds.
"Well, no need to off yourself that fast…" Cohen muttered. He might've scared them a bit too much. If they all went out like that, how was he supposed to track down the Greek Ministry's moles?
"You're—" another Silver Key stammered, pointing at Cohen.
"Legilimens!" Cohen cast quickly on the survivors, determined to extract their memories before any more tried to resist by offing themselves.
The spell wasn't controlling, and two of the Silver Keys, still able to move after having their positive emotions and some memories drained, bolted for the exit—only to run straight into another nightmare.
The Griffin blocked the way, letting out a ferocious roar at the fleeing wizards.
Hiss, hiss, hiss! Old Water Snake added from atop the Griffin's back, though it seemed more like it was riding the Griffin's coattails.
"I've changed my mind," Cohen said to the Griffin. "Kill them all. Go for the necks. I'll keep the bodies for Inferi. And don't tell Newt or Rolf about this."