"?"
Lucius's eyes practically popped out.
Huh? Kill Fudge? Just like that? That's... a bit direct, isn't it? The Dark Lord hadn't actually mentioned seizing power immediately... He'd only said the current Death Eaters should have a bit of a parade, maybe throw the Dark Mark up over the campsite, just to see who the real traitors were these days—
"Is this... the Dark Lord's idea?" Lucius asked cautiously.
"Nah, this is my idea," Cohen said.
Cohen's idea? The Dark Lord had said Cohen was his most trusted collaborator now, someone they probably couldn't bring into the Death Eaters properly, but definitely on the Dark Lord's side.
Most trusted...
Did that mean... Cohen's idea was basically the Dark Lord's idea?
"But the Minister for Magic has loads of protection around him..." Lucius had a pretty good grasp of their current Death Eater capabilities. "Isn't this...?"
"Does it matter if you can handle it?" Cohen raised an eyebrow. "You lot aren't actually meant to finish anyone off in this attack—I'm the one planning to take down Fudge."
"But aren't you still meant to... I mean..." Lucius bent at the waist, asking carefully, "The Dark Lord said you wanted to keep your identity hidden..."
"Right, that's why I came to you," Cohen nodded. "Spot me a Death Eater mask."
—
Lucius really didn't want to give him one. Honestly, murdering the Minister for Magic and having a Death Eater parade were completely different kettles of fish. If something happened to Fudge, the Ministry would be in absolute chaos—
And Lucius had poured so much money into bribing Fudge. It had only been a few years since Fudge took office... If he died now, all that money Lucius had thrown in would be completely wasted.
But what could he do? Voldemort treated this kid almost like a son. Even if Lucius shoved this "attack the Minister for Magic" plan right under Voldemort's nose, he wouldn't likely object much. That's because the only person Voldemort was truly afraid of was Dumbledore—unless Cohen suddenly had a complete change of heart and decided to join Dumbledore's side, of course.
"If you go yourself..." Lucius tried to persuade him again, thinking of his investment. "Won't you get spotted? By Dumbledore, maybe, or...?"
"I won't get spotted," Cohen said with extreme certainty. "I've got a solid alibi..."
Whether he left a dummy in his tent or stayed there physically while his soul zipped out for an assassination, Cohen could perfectly pretend to be a harmless sleepyhead in front of Edward. So far, no one knew Cohen could float about in soul form. He just needed to handle explaining things to Dumbledore afterwards. After all, giving Voldemort a Muggle body was something Cohen and Dumbledore had discussed, but "Voldemort organising Death Eaters to attack the Minister for Magic" would clearly be way beyond Dumbledore's expectations.
Cohen would just have to act like, "Who knew a Muggle body could cause such a massive mess?" when the time came—anyway, Fudge hadn't had an easy time of it anywhere since the Sirius Black incident. And besides, "you agreed to the Muggle body thing yourself." Dumbledore wouldn't have much reason to blame him. Their "choice" to give Voldemort a Muggle body back then was based on the fact that Voldemort would definitely find a way to come back no matter what. Not interfering would only make things worse.
After receiving a Death Eater mask and hood from Lucius, Cohen stuffed them into his pocket. Cohen was quite a bit taller now, so at least with the hood and mask on, he wouldn't look like a little kid anymore, just a shorter Death Eater at most.
"Right, I'm off. You lot get ready. Try to make the chaos happen near where Fudge is staying—don't worry, once the Dark Mark is up in the sky, those memories of the dead will automatically attack the Ministry Aurors."
Leaving Lucius's tent, Cohen casually ambled back towards his own tent from the opposite direction. Along the way, Cohen saw tents of all shapes and sizes. The campsite was filled with all sorts of flashy "creations" from wizards who'd clearly gone all out, like Gothic cottage-style tents with banners that read "Salem Witches' Institute," Irish supporter tents covered in thick layers of shamrocks, and Bulgarian supporter tents plastered with Krum's face everywhere.
It was clear none of these wizards were planning to "tone it down just a bit" as the Ministry had asked. This had become a massive gathering where wizards showed off.
But before Cohen could even reach his own tent, a hand suddenly shot out and pulled him inside a tent.
"Shhh—whoa, whoa, whoa, don't attack—wait, use your mouth."
Just as Cohen was about to soul-suck as a warning, the other person quickly shushed him. Cohen saw who had suddenly "kidnapped" him.
Inside the slightly dim tent, Von Braun was grabbing Cohen's arm, looking pale.
"What do you want?" Cohen frowned. "Couldn't you just call me out in the open—oh... is the Silver Key here to watch the game too?"
"They are, but they're not here for the game," Von Braun said nervously. "I overheard their plan—they're going to cause trouble here—"
"In my name?" Cohen raised an eyebrow.
"In your name," Von Braun said heavily. "I suggest we stop them soon..."
"What are they planning?" Cohen asked. "Who are they attacking?"
"They're just going to randomly pick a few ordinary wizarding families to attack. Their sole purpose is to make a huge scene and then shout your name in front of everyone..." Von Braun worried. "If this works, even if you actually had nothing to do with it, the Minister for Magic is definitely going to suspect you—it's really dangerous."
Whether anyone else would suspect Cohen after the match ended, he didn't know, but the Minister for Magic definitely wouldn't be able to...
"They're that cowardly?" Cohen clicked his tongue.
"?"
Von Braun looked at Cohen blankly. Wait, shouldn't this make Cohen feel a bit of danger? How come Cohen seemed to look... sort of annoyed that the Silver Key's plan wasn't ambitious enough?
"Where are they?" Cohen sighed. "I'll go meet them. They really do need a lesson."
"Wait, hold on..." Von Braun swallowed. "Are you and I thinking of the same kind of 'lesson'? You're going to stop them from doing a terrorist attack, right?"
"Something like that," Cohen said vaguely. "Just tell me straight up where they are now and how many of them there are."
"The campsite to the west, the one with a moon symbol on top," Von Braun said. "There are five people inside... I've marked them for you."
As he spoke, Von Braun pulled out that crumpled list, with several names circled in green ink. Besides the names circled in green, there were also some names crossed out with red ink, those were Silver Key members confirmed to be dead.
"Hey, didn't you bring your dad to watch the game?" Cohen suddenly realised Von Braun seemed to be alone in his tent.
"He's here, he went to old Morris's tent next door to chat," Von Braun said. "Old Mr. Morris is really close with him... If I can't stop the Silver Key... I'll take him away from here right after the match ends."
"Actually, you could just leave early," Cohen tilted his head. "You don't look like you're enjoying the game much anyway—or rather, you probably don't have the mind for it now."
"My dad wants to watch," Von Braun said. "Joshua used to love playing Quidditch, he was a Seeker for Ravenclaw back then—it's a shame my dad never got a chance to see him play at Hogwarts."
"Joshua is... oh, your brother." Cohen paused when he heard the name. That Auror and Silver Key follower Cohen had... well, finished off in their first year.
"But so much time has passed and there's been no news of him at all, I feel like he might be dead," Von Braun sighed. "Good thing my dad's started getting me and Joshua mixed up now, saves me having to come up with excuses in front of him..."
Cohen didn't say anything. There wasn't much he could do about it. Joshua had wanted to attack and kill Cohen the moment he saw him. You couldn't expect Cohen to go easy on someone trying to kill him.
"Better take your dad away early after the match," Cohen said.
Von Braun looked at Cohen deeply.
"Alright," Von Braun said.
Not long after, just as Cohen was about to leave, an old man excitedly ducked into the tent.
"Joshua!" Old Mr. Von Braun waved two flags he held, one for the Bulgarian team and one for the Irish team. It was hard to tell which team the old man supported, or maybe he didn't support either and was just a bit confused due to his age. "I got you some flags! You can wave these with Philip later—"
"Okay, Dad," Von Braun sighed in relief. When he heard the first sentence, he'd thought Joshua was back. "You should rest a bit. You barely slept last night and you're still so energetic..."
Von Braun took the flags. Cohen had planned to sneak out during this, but Old Mr. Von Braun caught him red-handed.
"Joshua, where are you running off to again?" Old Mr. Von Braun said sternly. "You're not allowed to go patrol with those Aurors today—you just said yesterday you weren't scheduled!"
"..." Cohen was awkwardly held by the scruff of his neck—and then he shot a look at Von Braun, signalling him to hurry up and help him out—Cohen really didn't want to upset this rather confused old man.
"Dad, Joshua has something important to do," Von Braun leaned next to his father and whispered. "It's about that girl he met last time... He's over thirty now, don't interfere with him finding a girlfriend..."
"Oh... right, right, finding a girlfriend is important..." Old Mr. Von Braun immediately let go of the back of Cohen's collar. "Go on, go on quickly—I saw quite a few foreign women along the way, they were all so..."
Cohen seized the chance to escape the tent. Inside, the topic quickly moved to the old father pressuring for marriage, only now the target of discussion had shifted from "Joshua" to Philip Von Braun.
Cohen shook his head, finding it hard to imagine what he'd do if Edward ever got like that—no, actually, it probably wouldn't be much different. Edward was already taking another step towards becoming a complete couch potato, especially now that Dobby did all the cooking at home.
With Von Braun's tip-off, Cohen quickly found the Silver Key's tent. It was a grey tent that looked rather plain and unremarkable, with only a model of a moon perched on top. After confirming this was the only tent with a moon on it in the entire western campsite, Cohen walked in as if he owned the place. With wizards coming and going everywhere, sneaking in would actually be more suspicious.
"Hello there—" The moment Cohen stepped through the tent flap, five pairs of eyes fixed on him.
Five identical bald men. Honestly, the names Von Braun had marked on the list were completely useless now. Inside the tent was a spacious room with a round table in the centre. The five men sat around the table, and in the middle was a large cauldron with some thick, cement-like potion residue left in it.
"Polyjuice Potion? Couldn't you pick someone a bit better-looking to copy...?" Cohen wasn't particularly impressed with their choice of mimicry. These fierce-looking bald men just didn't look like good people; you'd probably get stopped and questioned by Aurors just by walking around outside.
"You... you are..." Baldy Number One looked at Cohen, then at a photo in his hand.
"Does it really have to be that creepy...?" Cohen's mouth twitched. Did these people sleep hugging his photo or something?
"My Lord!" Fanatical Baldy Number Two immediately slid off his chair and crawled obsessively towards Cohen. "You have finally arrived—may I kiss your robes—"
"You were a Death Eater before, weren't you!" Cohen said, eyes wide, and immediately pulled his robes away. This was the third time a Silver Key member with a Death Eater history had tried to kiss his robes. What in Merlin's beard had Voldemort done to these people during his training sessions?!
"The Lord hasn't woken up yet, that's right..." Calm Baldy Number Three stood up. "Lord, I know you currently misunderstand everything we've done, but you only need to wait... Until everything is over, you will understand—"
"Understand what? Your plan for after the match ends?" Cohen took a step inside, sidestepping the guy still trying to kiss his robes on the floor.
"You know..." Baldy Number Three narrowed his eyes. "But... who—"
"Boss, should we...?" Timid Baldy Number Four asked Number Three. Baldy Number Five was already lying on the floor, passed out—though Cohen suspected Five was faking it.
"He's loyal," Cohen said coolly. "As for you lot... you've disappointed me a bit."
"You don't understand the outcome of all this yet," Baldy Number Three said, breathing rapidly. "Those are just illusory, false loyalties. We are... we are the ones willing to awaken you... We thought you were still..."
"No," Cohen stepped closer. "What I mean is... why is your plan so crude, narrow-minded, and full of fear?"
"There are so many people here, wizards from all over the world, wizards from every social class, the powerful, the common folk, the nightingales perched on branches, the rats scurrying in tunnels..." Cohen continued. "And the sacrifice you intend to offer me, you plan to use just a few rats?"
"!" x5
The bald men looked at Cohen in disbelief. Even Baldy Number Five, who was faking unconsciousness, struggled to lift his head.
Huh? The Lord is awake? He's finally seeing the light? He's finally going to...
"The first sacrifice I want is the one standing at the very top of the venue, Cornelius Fudge," Cohen said coldly. "Don't try to fool me with those lowlife nobodies."