"He didn't catch the Golden Snitch! He almost swallowed it!"
Even though everyone had almost left the field, Slytherin's Flint was still yelling indignantly.
But no one paid him any attention. Even if Harry caught the Golden Snitch with his butt, it would still be Gryffindor with 150 points.
"He looks like a baboon whose banana was stolen,"
Cohen commented, as they walked toward Hagrid's hut.
"It was Snape," Ron explained to Harry. "We all saw it. He was casting a curse on your flying broom. If Cohen hadn't been casting a counter-curse and Hermione hadn't set Snape's robes on fire, you might be dead!"
"Nonsense," Hagrid still didn't believe it. "Why would Snape do something like that?"
"Maybe he didn't get along with Harry's dad?" Cohen was glad no one suspected him. He couldn't imagine how Harry would feel if Quirrell told him, "Cohen was with me to get you too…"
"I remember my dad saying—"
"What? Your dad knows my dad?" Upon hearing this, Harry even forgot that Snape had almost killed him. He couldn't wait to get more information about his parents.
"They used to be friends—you know, there's only one school in England, Hogwarts, and each house only has about ten students per year. It's hard not to be friends." Cohen raised an eyebrow.
The afternoon tea wasn't exactly harmonious, because under their questioning, Hagrid let slip two things—the three-headed dog was his, and the name Nicolas Flamel was related to the incident.
This left Hagrid fuming with himself, looking rather sullen.
"We need to go to the library and look up that name,"
Hermione said on the way back to the castle.
"Maybe we can find out what that dog was guarding—"
"Nicolas Flamel was an alchemist," Cohen suddenly said.
"?" Hermione looked at Cohen.
"You didn't ask me," Cohen said innocently, spreading his hands. "He crafted the Philosopher's Stone—an alchemical tool that can turn lead into gold. It can also be used to make an elixir of immortality."
"The Philosopher's Stone is the pinnacle of ancient alchemy, because the goal of ancient alchemy was always to create gold and achieve immortality—I read that in *The Alchemy Explained*."
"Next time, I definitely won't have a problem with you reading in the common room," Ron said, dumbfounded. "Alchemy—is that really something for someone our age to read?"
"That's not the point—Ron," Hermione said worriedly. "This alchemical tool must be incredibly valuable; no one would refuse to steal something so attractive."
"We have to stop him," Harry declared, taking on the protagonist's role.
"+1" Cohen nodded. They definitely had to stop the Philosopher's Stone from being stolen; Cohen himself wanted it.
A plan had already taken shape in Cohen's mind—a perfectly plausible plan to swallow the Philosopher's Stone—if Dumbledore cooperated.
Knowing of the Philosopher's Stone's existence, they didn't press Hagrid further—leading Hagrid to believe they no longer cared.
Until December, Harry and Cohen appeared outwardly obedient.
During this time, Cohen had reduced the number of giant spiders in the Forbidden Forest to only a dozen or so young adults—Aragog had taken his offspring to hide in the crypts, and every time Cohen went there, he could hear Aragog's angry curses echoing from beneath the surface.
"Kill them, kill them. Someone has to die. Why can't it be spiders?"
The Earl said lazily in the Room of Requirement. The weather was getting colder, and he hardly ever left the fireplace.
"Killing spiders is getting boring now," Cohen said dangerously.
"Oh, so you're going to start messing with the little wizards and centaurs? Great! Dumbledore will definitely want to fight you." The Earl cheered. "Don't worry, you'll go toe-to-toe with Dumbledore."
"I often kill him in my dreams, don't I?" Cohen glared at the Earl.
"No, I meant he killed you five times in five seconds," the Earl corrected. "When are you going to give me the wand you promised? Hedwig is getting harder and harder to get out of the house—I saw her having an affair with a yellowish-brown owl in the shed—"
"Do you have to use the word 'affair' in front of a child?" Cohen scoffed. "Wait until before Christmas—I'll write to Ollivander and order one so you can come with me to that manor ruins to visit relatives, lest—"
"Can an orphan use the word 'visit relatives'?" the Earl asked, feigning curiosity. "I mean, you have no idea what makes you—"
"I think you need your feathers plucked," Cohen said coldly.
—It
was a mid-December morning; they would be on holiday after today, and many students had already packed their bags.
Malfoy almost never bothered Harry when Cohen was around, and Cohen was certain that his father, Lucius Malfoy, had written to remind him.
It seemed like everyone knew Cohen's identity, but Cohen himself couldn't find any record of it anywhere.
Fudge was genuinely terrified of headlines like "Shocking! An Unkillable Dark Magic Experimental Monster Appears in the Wizarding World."
The snow outside the castle was piled several feet high, the lake was frozen solid, and giant squid lurked beneath the ice of the Black Lake—walking on it at night would be like stepping into a horror movie.
After enduring the last Potions class, the young wizards' cheers nearly lifted the ceiling after Snape left—holidays were here!
Cohen's visit home officially began.
The Earl delivered Cohen's order for a wand remotely in a single day and returned to Hogwarts with a brand-new wand, clearly showing how much he wanted it.
"You've never been this diligent when delivering other letters," Cohen grumbled.
"Delivering you letters is work, buying yourself a wand is life,"
the Earl said philosophically.
"It's what I deserve."
Cohen let the Earl play with his wand in the Room of Requirement all night, while taking all the important items with him beforehand to prevent them from being hit by the Earl's random spells.
Early the next morning, Cohen, along with the tired Earl, mingled with the group of young wizards heading home for Christmas—after all, the forms for going home were filled out by the students themselves.
To allow ample time to explore the abandoned manor, Cohen didn't sign the list of those staying at school.
Halfway through the group, after crossing an arched bridge, Cohen slipped into a nearby grove of trees, parting ways with the young wizards heading to the train station.
The manor in Northumberland…
could they really still find any information from ten years ago?
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(End of Chapter)