For the sake of protecting Ron's delicate little heart, Cohen agreed to lend the Chimera to Hagrid for a lesson.
The story would be that it escaped from Greece and then ran off again after Hagrid's lesson—
"That doesn't sound safe at all," Hermione said, extremely worried, as Cohen, Harry, Hermione, and Ron gathered in Hagrid's hut to discuss it that evening.
"It'll be perfectly safe," Hagrid said cheerfully. "Cohen's Chimera can turn invisible! And none of the students would rat out a teacher."
"Hagrid, you're a bit too trusting of the students," Harry said, also not very reassured. "I think the Slytherin students would be very likely to report you..."
"Especially Malfoy," Ron reminded him. "He had a lot of complaints about Hagrid last class..."
"Malfoy won't," Cohen said.
Harry and Cohen's eyes met for a second. Last term, Harry had found out that Cohen had used Voldemort's name to ask for information at the Malfoy's house.
"Don't worry about it—someday everyone will love Chimeras," Hagrid said, patting his chest.
Someday everyone will be obsessed with Dementors. Cohen thought of this for no particular reason.
"Oh—it's getting so late, you guys should hurry back to the castle," Hagrid said, seeing the sky gradually darkening outside. "Especially with Sirius Black still on the loose."
Hagrid glanced at Harry worriedly, but Harry didn't understand what Hagrid meant. Everyone was worried about Harry being killed by Black, but Harry thought Black couldn't possibly get into Hogwarts.
Although they had settled on the topic for the next Care of Magical Creatures class, both Cohen and Hermione suggested that Hagrid teach some theory first and not bring out the Chimera right away—otherwise, the monster would definitely scare the students.
The wizarding world's records of Chimeras weren't very friendly; there were frequent reports of Chimeras attacking wizards in Greece.
Besides the occasional issues with Hagrid, Lupin's classes weren't going smoothly either—this week's Defense Against the Dark Arts class happened to fall in the middle of the month.
"Snape?!" In Friday's Defense Against the Dark Arts class, Ron looked in disbelief at the person striding into the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom.
The way his cloak billowed made him look like a giant bat.
"Harry? Where's Harry?" Hermione asked, as if she had suddenly appeared in the classroom. She looked around worriedly but couldn't find Harry. "If Professor Lupin's class is late, it's one thing, but if Snape's class is late..."
"He'll be dragged down to the dungeons by Snape and have his guts ripped out," Ron said.
"Wood kept him behind to go over the game plan," Cohen recalled. "I saw Wood pull him away during dinner—tomorrow's the first Quidditch match of the term."
"Silence!" Snape said to their table. "Class has begun. Ten points from Gryffindor!"
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"There are still five minutes left!" Ron retorted angrily.
"Twenty points," Snape said smoothly. "Two years of schooling haven't taught you 'respect for professors,' Weasley."
Ron shut his mouth, but his eyes still glared fiercely at Snape.
Their lesson hadn't started yet because Harry hadn't arrived.
Snape could have actually started teaching, but it seemed like he was waiting for Harry to "be late" so he'd have an excuse to take points from him. Snape delayed starting his explanation.
"Bang—" The classroom door burst open.
"Sorry I'm late, Professor Lupin, I—" Harry said慌乱地.
But when Harry looked up, he was surprised to see Snape, not Lupin, standing at the front of the class.
"Class started ten minutes ago, Potter, so ten points from Gryffindor. Sit down," Snape said.
"Where's Professor Lupin?" Harry asked.
"He said he was feeling unwell today and couldn't make it to class," Snape sneered. "Didn't I just tell you to 'sit down'?"
"What's wrong with him?" Harry didn't move.
"Nothing life-threatening," Snape said, as if he regretted that Lupin wasn't in mortal danger. "Another five points from Gryffindor. If you don't sit down now, it'll be fifty points."
Harry silently walked over to the table where Cohen and the others were sitting.
"Today, we will be learning about... werewolves," Snape said darkly.
"Excuse me, sir, we've already learned about Boggarts, Kappas, and Grindylows. The next thing we're supposed to learn is—" Hermione said, raising her hand.
"Silence," Snape said coldly. "Your progress is too slow. I believe first-year students should be able to handle Red Caps and Grindylows. So, turn to page three hundred and ninety-four, everyone!"
The students grumbled—Snape's teaching style was clearly completely different from Lupin's relaxed and enjoyable approach.
They took down a whole bunch of notes about how to identify werewolves and avoid being harmed by them. After the bell rang, all the students let out a long sigh of relief.
"Each of you will write an essay for me on how to identify and kill a werewolf. Write two full rolls of parchment on this topic and hand it in on Monday morning."
Not a single person left the classroom without complaining—two full rolls of parchment meant they'd have to spend the entire evening on it.
However, as they were leaving, Hermione seemed thoughtful.
"Cohen, do you remember what the lunar phase is today?" Hermione asked Cohen quietly.
"November 26th, 1993, nearing a full moon," Cohen replied, because they had just had Astronomy class last night.
"Isn't it a bit strange?" Hermione said. "I mean, the timing of Professor Lupin's illness, and then Snape suddenly skipping at least seven lessons' worth of material to teach about werewolves... I remember Professor Lupin wasn't at the Halloween feast either."
"Can't say for sure," Cohen replied. He had promised Lupin not to reveal that he was a werewolf, but if Hermione figured it out, there wasn't much he could do.
"Three months... it shouldn't be a coincidence like that," Hermione said, frowning. "I need to do some more research..."
"Good luck," Cohen encouraged her. "Can I take a look at your essay for Snape when you're done?"
"You have to write your own homework!" Hermione said angrily.
Although Hermione always said this whenever Cohen and Ron wanted to copy her homework, she would always lend it to them on the very last night before it was due.
"What's what?" Harry and Ron, who had been walking ahead, heard the word "homework" and immediately came closer. "You guys aren't actually planning on writing Snape's essay, are you? Harry and I decided that if Snape teaches the next Defense Against the Dark Arts class, we're just gonna skip it—"
"What excuse are you planning on using?" Cohen raised an eyebrow.
"We'll break each other's legs," Ron said. "That way we can even boost our Divination scores. Funny coincidence, isn't it? For our last Divination homework, Harry and I both wrote that we'd break our legs in December..."
"What remarkably convenient prophecies," Hermione said, pursing her lips.
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