"Brilliant!"
Cohen's eyes lit up.
"Knew that trick would cheer you up," Edward's lips curved into a smile. "Though you might not be able to invite many friends over anymore—"
"But—" Cohen changed tack.
"Don't worry," Edward patted Cohen's shoulder. "With this charm, even if those Silver Key chaps glued their noses to our windows, they wouldn't find me or your mum."
"No, that's not what I'm worried about. What I'm worried about is that the Fidelius Charm sounds pretty complicated, and do you or Mum actually know it?" Cohen asked.
"..." Edward fell silent for a moment.
"You don't?!" Cohen's eyes widened.
"It's hard to explain this to you..." Edward scratched his head. "We know the spell, but we've never actually tried it, so it might take a few tries—but don't panic, we've managed more complicated spells than this before—"
"Please stop ruining the lovely scenes I've imagined in my head," Cohen said, his mouth drooping. He'd always thought the scene of Edward and Rose saving "Cohen" back then was really touching. But based on Edward's comment about having "managed it before," the scene back then might not have been the two of them tearfully saying moving things before tearing open a soul to mend Cohen's, but rather the two of them huddled together at Herbert's prompting, frantically trying to figure out how to make the spell work.
Suddenly, the whole atmosphere just... deflated.
"Let me do it. I know how," Cohen sighed. Without him, this family would definitely fall apart—though, hang on, if Cohen wasn't around, it's possible the Silver Key group wouldn't bother Edward and Rose anyway...
Just focus on Cohen stopping the danger, don't worry about where the danger came from. [Insert slightly awkward image here]
Ever since he'd seen Cohen cast a Patronus Charm out of nowhere, Edward had gotten a bit used to Cohen just quietly picking up advanced spells. The more spells Cohen learned, the better, as long as he didn't get into Dark Magic—at least he could produce a Patronus, which meant he definitely wasn't learning any nasty stuff at school.
"Cohen! Want some Omnioculars?" Harry and the others found Edward and Cohen, who had fallen behind, laden with souvenirs and bits and bobs for the match. Harry had already bought four pairs, so whether Cohen said yes or no, this little gift was coming his way.
"They can replay the action in slow motion! And flash up analysis of the game..." Harry enthusiastically began describing them to Cohen.
"Thanks, how much?" Cohen asked.
"Don't be silly!" Harry waved his hand. "If it weren't for you, Sirius might still be on the run, and you've helped out so much since you came to Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place..."
"Here, I bought everyone a match programme," Hermione said, handing them out one by one to the three boys. "They've got the teams' past records and player details, so you won't be completely lost watching the game..."
After their shopping spree, Edward bought a load of broomstick models and player figurines, while Cohen just bought an Irish flag. You had to have something to wave along with the crowd when watching the match, otherwise you'd look a bit out of place.
The afternoon passed in a blur. The match was set to start in the evening and nobody knew how long it would last—but even so, not many people chose to take a nap during the day.
As dusk settled, a deep, resonant gong sounded in the distance from the forest beside the campsite. Appearing along with the gong were the colourful lanterns strung up in the trees. It was match time. Cohen and Edward ducked out of their tent and followed the stream of people towards the stadium.
"Here, take the Omnioculars," Cohen handed the gadget to Edward. "I'll just wave the flag. I probably wouldn't be able to see much with these anyway..."
"Hmm? Why not?" Edward asked curiously.
"Because the emotions all around are just so intense," Cohen said, covering his face. "I'll probably only be able to see all those bright, colourful feelings. Might take a while to get used to it."
"Huh?" Edward had never heard Cohen mention this before. "If that's the case..."
"It's fine. It just takes a bit of time to ignore the emotions and then I can see properly. So, if you see me starting to look a bit vacant, don't freak out," Cohen prepped Edward. "It's normal."
"Are you sure you'll be alright?" Edward asked worriedly. "Actually, I'm not that keen on watching the game either—"
"I'm fine," Cohen said. "And I want to watch the game—why else would I buy a flag?"
Going home now was absolutely out of the question. If they went home together now, how could Cohen bring the Silver Key and the Death Eaters to cause trouble?
Edward was still a bit concerned, but at Cohen's strong insistence, they continued walking towards the stadium. Along the way, they could hear thousands of people walking, shouting, laughing, and snippets of songs drifting through the air. This feverish excitement was like a feast for Cohen—and anyway, nobody would notice a ton of water missing from an ocean.
The Aurors trying to maintain order had pretty much given up. With nearly a hundred thousand wizards from all over the world here to watch the match, order was... well, as long as no terrorists suddenly started flinging Unforgivable Curses into the crowd...
Emerging from the forest, they saw a gigantic stadium. From ground level, you could only see a part of the magnificent golden walls surrounding it.
"Gotta figure out how to fit this thing into my trunk," Cohen mused.
"Well, your trunk might need a bit of an extension then," Edward joked. "This thing was built by five hundred people working for a year, and it seats a hundred thousand spectators—speaking of which, what do you want a Quidditch stadium for?"
"Nothing, just want it for my collection. It looks pretty spectacular," Cohen said. "The foundation I marked out for the castle before was still too small..."
"Building your own place that big isn't very practical either," Edward said. "Hogwarts needs hundreds of house-elves just to get it half-decently clean. You can't expect Dobby to clean an entire castle by himself..."
They chatted all the way to the entrance. Edward pulled two tickets out of his pocket.
"First-class tickets!" the witch at the entrance said, looking at their tickets. "Top Box!"
"Arnold's pretty impressive," Edward clicked his tongue. "First-class tickets apparently went for over a hundred Galleons each—regular tickets were only one or two Galleons."
As they climbed the stairs up the stadium, Cohen's vision began to fill with sweet-smelling "happiness." If the Dementors from Azkaban knew about this place, they'd probably have dropped everything and sped away from the fortress years ago to find a new gig.
Edward pulled Cohen along, all the way to the very top—Their seats were in a small box, which had about twenty gilded purple chairs arranged in two rows, front and back, all with soft cushions. Thanks to a Temperature Charm, the air was comfortably cool, so no matter how rowdy the crowd got, the viewing experience wouldn't be miserable.
Edward led Cohen to the front-row seats marked on their tickets, leaning into Cohen's ear to check on him:
"Feeling any better now, Cohen?"
"You don't have to ask like I'm some invalid..." Cohen's mouth twitched. He was just surrounded by food, not about to pass out from hunger. He'd just had dinner, so it wasn't that bad...
However, he was surprised that this time, the entire view wasn't blocked out like it had been in his first year. Perhaps this was a result of the Philosopher's Stone purification? Maybe purebred Dementors didn't have quite such a compulsive need to feed...
"But I think I'm used to it now," Cohen added. "The view is normal now—"
"Good... good..." Edward sighed in relief.
Below in the stadium, wizards were taking their seats in waves, layer upon layer like steps. Everything was bathed in a golden glow, making the entire arena look as smooth as velvet from high above. In the centre of the stadium, level with the Top Box, a gigantic blackboard floated, as if a huge hand were scribbling rapidly on it.
[Cleansweep: The Broomstick for the Whole Family—Safe, Reliable, with Built-in Anti-Theft Buzzer...]
[Mrs. Skower's All-Purpose Magical Mess Remover...]
It was clear the Ministry had pocketed a hefty sum from advertising fees, not just ticket sales.
"Should we place a bet with Bagman today?" Edward said with a hint of regret. "Actually, you and I could go fifty-fifty—if you don't tell your mother..."
"Yeah, I was right about the match result, but betting with Bagman isn't a good idea," Cohen said helplessly. "He's going to go bankrupt and run off after the match. If you bet, you'll definitely lose everything..."
Hearing Cohen's words, Edward's heart sank immediately, and he shivered slightly, feeling a bit scared.
"Wait, what about Arthur's two boys...?" Edward suddenly remembered something. "Didn't they put all their pocket money in?"
"I don't think they'd believe me if I told them," Cohen shook his head. "They wanted to multiply their money so badly back then. Ron said they wanted to save up to open a joke shop—"
Cohen's words were interrupted as others entered the box. First came the Weasley family, Fred and George clearly beaming and discussing where in Diagon Alley they'd open their shop once they made their fortune. Next were Harry and Sirius Black. Sirius looked noticeably livelier after tidying up his hair and beard; he was practically a different person from how he'd been in prison.
Following them were all Ministry people—Arthur always had to stand up and shake hands with everyone who entered because the subsequent arrivals were all higher-ups from the Ministry.
For example...
"Harry Potter! You know him!" Fudge was still loudly introducing the "distinguished guests" who would be in the box when he walked in with the Bulgarian Minister for Magic. Upon spotting Harry, he pulled the Minister over, gesturing towards where Harry was sitting. "Harry Potter... Let me think, you should know who he is... the boy who survived You-Know-Who..."
The Bulgarian Minister's eyes lit up when he saw the scar on Harry's forehead and he rattled off a whole string of words in Bulgarian, excitedly pointing at Harry. Neither Cohen nor Edward understood Bulgarian, though.
"Edward!" Fudge greeted Edward with a smile. "How have things been these past few years?" He even put on a friendly act and stroked Cohen's hair.
But... the Minister seemed to show early signs of Parkinson's; his hand was clearly trembling as he touched Cohen's hair.
"Alright before, but the Ministry inspections lately have made us a bit... impatient," Edward said stiffly.
"For safety, for safety..." Fudge said awkwardly. "At least there won't be similar situations after the match, you did get your application approved..."
"Let's hope so," Edward said, not bothering to be overly polite.
Awkwardness aside, Fudge still chatted quite a bit with Cohen about "how enjoyable life at Hogwarts is," looking very much like a friendly elder talking to a younger relative. How contradictory... Cohen felt disgusted by Fudge's conflicted mindset of wanting to win him over yet not daring to stop keeping an eye on him—he wanted to have his cake and eat it too, it seemed.
The Malfoy family who arrived later also had a bit of a clash with Mr. Weasley, but with Cohen present and Ron currently shoving match-watching popcorn towards Cohen, Lucius didn't say anything rude directly to the Weasleys.
Edward quietly passed a small rolled-up note to Fred and George, telling them that Ludo Bagman was unreliable. Now, Fred and George started looking around, searching for Bagman.
"Dad, where's Mr. Bagman?" Fred asked Mr. Weasley after the box was almost full. "We need to talk to him about something..."
"It's not about 'additional investment,' is it...?" Arthur said, looking grim. "If Molly found out, I'd definitely be..."
"Bagman should be here soon, the match is about to start," Fudge also looked towards the box entrance.
The next second, a round-headed man rushed in. Ludo Bagman's face, which looked like a giant ball of cheese, was practically sparkling—because...
"I just landed another sponsor! The prize pool is up to a hundred and fifty thousand Galleons now—"
"The match, Ludo, the match," Fudge pulled the excited Mr. Bagman aside, reminding him quietly.
"Oh, right, the match—the match—" Mr. Bagman rubbed his hands together and sat down on the second row, to Fudge's right.
The last two people to enter were a grim-faced Mr. Crouch, whom Percy immediately became visibly excited about seeing—especially since Mr. Crouch's seat was right behind him. The other person was a bald man, whom no one else in the box recognised—except Cohen.
The bald man took the only empty seat left, which happened to be directly to Cohen's left.
"..."
Cohen's fists clenched—Coming here to attack the Minister for Magic wasn't wrong, but why on earth did they pick this guy out of their group of five?
"What are you doing?!" Edward growled quietly. Because he saw that not long after taking his seat, the man was secretly kissing the hem of his son's robes.
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