They had gotten the core issue wrong from the beginning—no matter how creative their use of the Patronus Charm, if their soul strength was lower than Cohen's, it would never really work.
And soul strength was something only Cohen could see clearly—he didn't even fully understand how it could be improved. Aside from his unique method of absorbing souls, the only known ways to enhance soul strength were aging or Voldemort-style possession.
By comparison, that old man at the inn who proposed "recreating another Cohen" might have had a more practical plan.
"Forget it, this is too much thinking. I'll just wait for them to come to me," Cohen muttered, rifling through a bag that only had clothes and a few notebooks on Dementors—nothing useful.
Instead of exhausting himself with overthinking, he might as well lie flat and wait for his opponents to show up.
He'd originally planned to go and take care of some troublesome people himself, but someone else had beaten him to it.
The radicals in the Silver Key wanted him dead. The conservatives wanted to frame him. So who exactly inside the organization was behind all this internal strife?
By the time Cohen returned to the Gryffindor common room, curfew had long passed.
But the Fat Lady never snitched; otherwise, Gryffindor's score might perpetually stay at zero (since the House point counters don't go into the negatives).
The only person in the common room was Hermione, who sat alone at a desk, crying quietly. When Cohen walked in, the sound startled her and she quickly wiped her face.
"You and Krum ended things already?" Cohen asked.
"No, it's not that," Hermione replied, trying to sound strong.
"Then it's about Ron?"
Hermione sniffled in response.
No surprise there—those two had probably had another fight right in the common room.
"He gets upset seeing you with Krum, and you get upset because he didn't ask you to the Ball," Cohen said. "So why don't you two just get together already?"
"I do not like him!" Hermione blurted, raising her voice.
"Okay." Cohen made a zipping gesture across his lips. "I'm going to bed then."
"W-wait!" Hermione called after him.
"What is it?" Cohen yawned.
"Don't tell anyone… about what just happened," she said awkwardly.
"I won't tell," Cohen promised.
He couldn't imagine how chaotic things would be if Harry and the basilisk started dating, and if that basilisk acted like this. He and Sisoco would probably go crazy…
Hermione fled back to the girls' dorms.
Back in the boys' dorm, things weren't much better.
Ron wasn't asleep either. He sat on his bed with a stormy expression. Seamus was already snoring, and Harry was silently keeping Ron company on the bed next to his.
"What is this, a Voldemort sneak attack night?" Cohen asked, peeking in. "Why is nobody sleeping?"
Harry didn't say anything, just nodded toward Ron and gave Cohen a "Ron's in a bad mood" look.
Cohen stepped on something sharp. Looking down, he picked up a model head of Viktor Krum—broken clean off a little figurine, the base still jagged.
"Yikes," Cohen said. "That's brutal."
Looks like Ron broke the most expensive thing he owned besides his wand.
Ah, love…
"That so-called Seeker—just a brainless oaf… didn't even win the Cup…" Ron muttered bitterly. "Like a moldy pumpkin pasty…"
Then he dramatically shook his blanket and buried himself in it.
Harry shook his head and gave Cohen a helpless look before lying down too.
——
On Christmas morning, the castle was unusually quiet—like all the students had dropped dead from last night's drama.
Hermione and Ron seemed to have come to some kind of silent truce after a night of sulking. Neither of them mentioned the Ball or their fight, and they were acting so polite it felt unnatural.
"I call this 'love's growing pains,'" Cohen told Harry as they headed to the bathroom. "School life really does offer great insight into teenage emotional development."
But Harry seemed distracted.
"Cohen, did you send all the basilisks back last night?" he asked casually.
"I did. But if you want to see the little basilisk again…" Cohen raised an eyebrow.
"N-no, that's fine…" Harry said, looking away. "Don't want to trouble anyone…"
"She really wanted to see you again, though," Cohen said, slinging an arm around Harry's shoulders. "But Sisoco wasn't keen. You really need to figure out how to get on Sisoco's good side. I can be your wingman."
"I don't… and she's a snake…"
"I get it, I get it."
Cohen patted Harry's shoulder.
"Let's prep a bit. I'll take you into the box later. You can bring some gifts for Sisoco, warm her up—then you'll be free to court the little one."
"Dating a snake is just too weird…" Harry mumbled, after thinking for a long time.
"I've got a way around that," Cohen said, all brotherly loyalty. "The materials are rare, but hey—we're bros."
Help Voldemort build a body? No problem. Help a friend get a girlfriend? Now that's where I give it my all.
"But before you jump into romance," Cohen added, "there's one more thing to deal with."
The two of them were heading to the Great Hall for breakfast.
"Huh?" Harry snapped out of it. "Is it an assignment from Professor McGonagall?"
"The golden egg," Hermione suddenly appeared behind them. "Harry, Cohen, did you forget about it? The second task is in February!"
"There's still two months," Harry said evasively. "And the egg just screams…"
"That screaming is mermaid song," Cohen said. "Mermaids' voices only sound normal underwater. Above water, it's all shrill and terrifying."
"You already figured it out?!" Hermione said, delighted. "That's amazing! If you run into trouble, I'll help you research—there must be a way—"
"What's it say?" Harry asked Cohen.
"Dunno. I haven't tried it. I'm lazy," Cohen replied. "But you can come with me to the box this afternoon—we can test it and also… chat about our future in-laws."
"In-laws?" Hermione asked, confused.
"Nothing…" Harry quickly covered Cohen's mouth. "He's still half-asleep…"