"I'll have your Chimera get Harry and the others out of here," Edward said, frowning. But clearly, getting them to safety wasn't his main concern right now. "When did you learn the Patronus Charm?"
"First year," Cohen replied. "But forget about my Patronus—like yours is so normal! You never even told me yours was a Dementor! There goes your shot at becoming Minister for Magic—"
"My dad never wanted to be Minister for Magic, okay?" Edward gave Cohen a heavy-lidded stare. "What exactly were you doing out there?"
"Found out who the killer is," Cohen said. "And the secret's in Room 103, where Mr. Raven stayed. But now that this fake version of me has shown up, I'm kinda over the whole detective game. I mean, they made a thing that looks exactly like me—used my face, stayed in my room, hugged my dad, and then hissed at me! Right in my face!"
The more Cohen thought about it, the angrier he got—this was beyond messed up. If you don't have the skills, don't go around making weird freaks to mess with people!
"Wait—what do you mean you're having the Chimera take Harry and the others away?" Cohen turned to glare at Edward. "You're going with them too. Don't you dare try to pull some dramatic 'father takes the curse to save his son' move. You seem to be seriously underestimating my survival skills…"
"I'm not leaving," Edward said calmly. "I didn't leave when you were a year old, and I won't leave now."
"Then I guess I'll have to make you." Cohen pointed his wand at Edward. "Back up and say, 'Cohen, I'm very disappointed in you,' and then get out of here with Harry and the others. The lion and the goat are great at running away—"
Edward chuckled lightly, as if genuinely amused by Cohen.
"If I were a single man, maybe I'd already be halfway across the world by now," Edward said. "But I'm a father. Either I get knocked out cold, or I stay by your side. No parent willingly lets their child face danger alone. I'm too much of a coward for that kind of regret."
"It's not dangerous," Cohen muttered, jabbing Edward in the stomach with his wand in frustration.
"If you don't behave, I swear I'll use the Imperius Curse to make you dance into Lovegood's Lusty Lounge in Diagon Alley and call Mom to catch you cheating—Mr. Norton, you really want Rose to see you sleeping over at a nightclub?"
Edward's face immediately changed color.
This little brat really knows how to hit where it hurts…
The two stood there in a tense standoff for half a minute.
Edward didn't budge. And Cohen didn't actually use the Imperius Curse.
"You're the *worst!*" Cohen exploded. "Wasn't Dumbledore and Nicolas Flamel going on about how I'm emotionally cold or whatever? Those old guys are full of it!"
"Just accept it already," Edward sighed in relief—at least he wasn't going to be in trouble with Rose. "Your dad's not exactly useless, you know."
"I'm going to have to prep for soul-extraction in case you get hit with an Avada Kedavra and die before I can stop it," Cohen muttered. "Do you know how hard it is to make a new body? I'd have to steal 5,000 kids' lollipops just to afford one!"
Custom human bodies from the dark market cost 5,000 Sin Points a pop. Expensive. Plus, souls don't last forever—Cohen would have to hustle to earn the points fast.
He was probably going to end up on the UK's magical juvenile delinquent watchlist...
—
The Chimera got Harry and the others out quickly. Before they could even protest, the lion blew a fireball that blasted through the hotel wall. Glass and dust sprayed out as the trio stared in stunned silence.
"I'm not paying for that damage," Cohen said seriously.
"We don't have any money," the goat head replied. "Time to make our exit, kids."
The horned water snake wrapped around Harry and Hermione, while the lion grabbed Ron by the collar with its teeth.
"AAAAAAHHHHHH!!"
Ron screamed, feeling something warm and gooey drip down his back.
"Rrrrgh…" The lion grunted in annoyance.
"That child is pitiful," the horned water snake murmured to Cohen.
"What do you mean?" Cohen frowned.
"Exactly what I said," it replied. "The one that looks like you."
Then the snake turned invisible with Harry, Hermione, and Ron in tow, lifting into the air like they'd vanished into thin air.
"So…" the Count tilted his head. "What was the point of them coming here, exactly?"
"To ruin my mood," Cohen muttered. "Life is just a cycle of things getting clogged up and then cleared out—over and over again, like being forced to enjoy the experience of a bowel movement. Isn't that right, dear Dad?"
"Are you saying I'm the one clogging things up," Edward asked, face twitching, "or... the bowel movement itself?"
"I'm just bitterly covering up how touched I was," Cohen sighed. "So, when exactly did your Patronus turn into a Dementor?"
"Year before last?" Edward said, thinking. "Can't remember. I don't usually use that spell—you know, kind of awkward to use a Dementor to cheer you up…"
"Do it! Do it!" the Count chimed in. "Let's see some father-son bonding!"
"How about I show you my new feather-plucking jinx instead?" Cohen glared. "Or are you still planning to rescue Mr. Frondo?"
"Oh, thank heaven—or Merlin or whoever—that you finally remembered someone got kidnapped!" the Count exclaimed.
"Hmm?" Edward frowned. "Didn't you tell me von Braun was kidnapped? The guy who taught Defense Against the Dark Arts for half a term? When did our cat—wait, don't tell me the cat is actually—"
He was clearly imagining some worst-case scenario.
"No, no," Cohen said. "I just almost forgot we had a live human kidnapped too—"
"What the hell?! What were you two even—oh my god, WHAT DID YOU DO?!" shouted a man who burst into the room—the suited man stood gaping at the chaos inside.
"Calm down," Edward said, lifting his wand. "*Stupefy!*"
A red beam knocked the man out mid-rant.
"Sorry," Edward added politely, "I'll wipe your memory later."
"Dad! What did you do to my—"
"*Stupefy.*" Cohen zapped the younger guy too.
"What the—?!" A sleepy tour guide stumbled in wearing pajamas. "I heard—OH MY GOD!"
He caught sight of Edward and Cohen standing over two unconscious bodies with wands out.
He ran.
"*Stupefy,*" the Count muttered lazily, shooting him down.
Edward and Cohen turned slowly to look at the owl.
"Good bird," Cohen praised.
"You can do magic?!" Edward gasped.
"Birds of the same feather flock together…" the Count said solemnly. "Get it? I'm a bird. The saying is about birds. Deep stuff—"
"Shut up," Cohen cut in. "The joke isn't funny the second time."
"This owl can cast spells!" Edward repeated, stunned.
"And your son can do magic too!" the Count snapped. "So it's fine for a pseudo-Dementor to use magic but not a bird? What kind of world is this—"
"It's fine. I'm used to it," Cohen reassured Edward. "Honestly, most of my pets can do magic. The Count's just the only one so bad at it he needs a wand…"
"Say that again!" the Count screeched, hopping mad.
Cohen loved seeing him get riled up but still helpless—that bird really brought entertainment value.
And hey, the world hadn't ended yet, partly thanks to this owl.
After arranging the unconscious tour guide and the two "Dens" neatly in a row, Cohen, Edward, and the Count made their way to the lobby.
Mr. Raven's body was gone. So was Miss Beatrice—the "killer."
"Wasn't there a girl here too?" Edward frowned.
"The victim's sister," Cohen explained quickly. "She killed her sister. Raven told her that if she murdered someone inside this hotel, she'd gain immortality. Same line as on the note: 'One dies, the other is enlightened.'"
"If that were true, wizards would've taken over this place long ago," Edward muttered.
Cohen neither agreed nor disagreed.
The trio reached Room 103. Mr. Raven's room was tidy. Aside from faint impressions on the bed, there was no sign of anyone living there.
Which made sense—Mr. Raven wasn't a living person. He didn't need to do anything.
Even the bathroom was spotless, like it had never been used. No towels, no toothbrush, no bedding. If they hadn't known he stayed there, anyone would think it was just an empty room.
"He doesn't even brush his teeth before bed?" Edward asked.
"I already grieved over that seven hours ago," Cohen replied. "Raven was a puppet. A walking corpse. But... heavily modified."
"Heavily modified as in…?" Edward's brows knit together. He could tell this was bigger than expected.
"Don't ask," Cohen said. "I don't want you to feel inferior. Whatever he was, it's not... human. Hard to believe neither of the Beatrice sisters noticed something was off…"
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