The following morning, the Nortons arrived at Hogwarts through the Floo Network immediately after receiving Dumbledore's letter stating that "something happened to Cohen."
Before this, Edward and Rose had specifically applied for Floo access through the Ministry so they could take Cohen travelling during the holidays.
Neither of them had imagined they would use it like this.
Inside the private ward, Edward sat silently beside Cohen's bed. He stared at the cold body lying beneath the blanket without saying a single word.
At first, he had assumed "something happened" meant Cohen accidentally devoured someone's soul again.
He never expected this.
Meanwhile, Rose was confronting Dumbledore like a furious beast.
"Two days ago, Cohen wrote to us saying he was studying for his final exams!" she shouted, her voice trembling violently. "And now you're telling me he died right under your nose?!"
Her eyes were bloodshot.
"You clearly knew—he belongs to Edward and me—you—"
Grief strangled the rest of her words before they could emerge.
"I understand your feelings," Dumbledore said quietly. "This is entirely my responsibility. I will—"
"You don't understand a damn thing!" Rose roared.
The sound echoed through the ward.
"You don't even have a son! You just stood there and watched him—watched him—"
"Rose."
Edward finally stood and pulled her gently into his arms, giving her somewhere to collapse as the last of her strength broke apart.
Dumbledore remained silent for several seconds.
"I didn't tell you the truth to escape responsibility," he said eventually. "Because I understand that lies cannot lessen the pain caused by love. Cohen was a brave and kind child. I believe all of us understood that."
"I'd rather he were a little evil," Rose sobbed weakly. "As long as he stayed alive..."
"He will receive Hogwarts' Special Contribution Award—"
"He's dead," Edward interrupted suddenly.
He slowly lifted his head to look at Dumbledore.
"What's the point of awards now?"
"For once, I am not suggesting his death is something glorious," Dumbledore replied heavily. "Cohen protected the Philosopher's Stone and resisted Voldemort. He deserves every honour imaginable. But honours cannot return life. They only preserve memory."
"Wait a second..."
A strange expression suddenly crossed Edward's face.
"Could Cohen actually have been..."
He did not finish the sentence aloud, but the implication was obvious.
A dangerous hybrid born from dark experiments. Raised beneath the supervision of the "greatest" light wizard in the world. Dead less than a year after entering Hogwarts.
It was very easy to imagine darker possibilities.
"I did not, have not, and never will harm Cohen," Dumbledore said quietly.
At that moment, he looked less like a legendary wizard and more like a tired old man.
"Where's that bastard Quirrell?" Rose suddenly demanded.
She wiped the tears from her face and pulled out her wand at some point, gripping it tightly like a dagger.
"He died roughly an hour after Voldemort abandoned his body," Dumbledore answered.
At this point, Cohen was already preparing to crawl back into his body. He planned to move a finger first—like those dramatic resurrection scenes from television—before sitting upright and terrifying everyone.
After all, Edward and Rose had already begun discussing burial arrangements.
They were so absorbed in grief that they completely forgot resurrection remained an option.
But Dumbledore's next sentence immediately forced Cohen's soul back out of his body again.
"I have a request," Dumbledore said carefully. "Could you allow Cohen's body to remain here a little longer?"
"What?" Edward frowned. "Sorry, I don't think I heard you correctly."
"There may be a remedy."
The atmosphere froze instantly.
Dumbledore continued slowly.
"The experiment that created Cohen belongs to a forbidden branch of alchemy known as the Man in the Bottle. No one has ever successfully crossed that field before. Last night, I discovered the Philosopher's Stone dissolved into Cohen's flesh after coming into contact with him."
Edward's breathing stopped briefly.
"Normally, the Stone's magic should remain permanently inside the body," Dumbledore explained. "But this morning, the magical energy vanished entirely. That should not be possible."
"The remedy you mentioned..." Edward swallowed hard. "Does that mean Cohen—"
"There's still hope?" Rose stared at Dumbledore desperately.
"Nicolas Flamel possesses greater knowledge of alchemy than anyone alive," Dumbledore said. "If anyone can save Cohen, it may be him."
"Why didn't you say that earlier?!" Edward nearly shouted.
Relief and panic mixed strangely across his face.
"I knew Cohen wouldn't die so easily," he muttered hoarsely. "He still has us..."
"I did not want to create hope only to watch it collapse," Dumbledore said softly. "That would be unnecessarily cruel."
Then his expression became serious again.
"I suspect Cohen's soul may still exist somewhere near the body. The Philosopher's Stone's magic could not simply disappear. Nicolas will arrive this afternoon."
He paused briefly.
"Please do not direct your anger toward him. He knew nothing about this situation, and he bears no responsibility."
The instant Cohen heard that, his entire resurrection plan vanished.
The Philosopher's Stone had already been eaten.
There was absolutely no chance Nicolas Flamel could recover it.
And more importantly...
Nicolas Flamel was old.
Extremely old.
Possibly dying.
Which meant Cohen suddenly saw another fascinating possibility.
Inheritance.
After all, Flamel had no children.
And just as Hagrid could never refuse a unicorn asking for butterbeer, Cohen possessed something Nicolas Flamel would find impossible to reject.
He was the only successful "Man in the Bottle" experiment in the entire world.
Dumbledore soon left the ward. The school still required his attention, and because of that, news of Cohen's death had not spread throughout Hogwarts yet.
Edward and Rose remained behind beside the bed.
Since Harry had not suffered serious injuries, he woke later that morning and immediately sneaked toward Cohen's ward to check whether Dumbledore had managed to save him.
The moment Harry entered, he froze awkwardly.
The Nortons had already arrived.
"Er... Mr Norton... Mrs Norton..." Harry stammered nervously.
He noticed the redness around Rose's eyes instantly, and the question he originally wanted to ask—How is Cohen?—died in his throat.
"Sorry..." Harry whispered at last.
It was the only thing he could think to say.
"It isn't your fault, Harry," Rose replied quietly.
She sounded much calmer now. At this point, she only hoped Nicolas Flamel truly could save Cohen.
After apologising several more times, Harry fled the room awkwardly.
Edward, meanwhile, continued replaying Dumbledore's explanation over and over inside his mind.
The Philosopher's Stone had dissolved into Cohen's body.
Then its magic disappeared.
Dumbledore's meaning had been obvious.
Magic from the Philosopher's Stone could not vanish without reason. If it no longer remained inside Cohen's body, then something else must have absorbed it.
Meaning—
Cohen's soul was still here.
Edward slowly turned toward the empty air beside the bed.
Could Cohen hear them?
....
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