After retreating from the depths of the Forbidden Forest, night had completely fallen.
A full moon hung in the clouds, and the howls of werewolves could be faintly heard in the distance—but Cohen didn't really want to fly that far again today. He should go back to sleep at a time like this.
Looking at his soul integrity, which had reached 19%, Cohen contentedly dispelled his Dementor form on the outskirts of the Forbidden Forest—if he flew to the Gryffindor Tower like this, he'd probably be instantly killed by Dumbledore.
Who knew if that old man's Patronus Phoenix could peck Cohen's soul apart in one bite, especially since he still had the Elder Wand in his hand.
"We're both made of elderwood, why don't you learn from him…"
Cohen muttered to his wand CPU.
But the wand's soul remained huddled inside its core—Cohen even suspected it was dead.
Night enveloped the castle and the surrounding area; he shouldn't be discovered on his way back to his quarters—only a few lights remained on in the towers, and most of the braziers and candles in the castle were extinguished.
Thankfully, he could see the dark stairwells clearly—though he didn't know the reason why (because pure Dementors don't have eyes)—otherwise, Cohen felt he would have been stuck on those rickety stairwells for a long time. Standing
before the portrait of the Fat Lady, Cohen was surprised to find her still awake so late—
"Oh, where did you have some secret gathering tonight?" the Fat Lady asked Cohen curiously.
"Pig nose—has anyone else come out?" Cohen asked after giving the password.
"You'll find out when you go in; they're much more anxious than you—running around sweating profusely." The Fat Lady yawned, and the frame of the portrait spun forward, revealing a hole leading to the lounge. "You don't have any other companions who haven't returned yet, right… I'm going to sleep…"
Cohen knew who the other rule-breakers were as soon as he climbed in.
"You, you lot, what are your eyes for?" Hermione's voice was furious. "Didn't you see what it was standing on?"
"The floor?" Harry's voice said. "I wasn't looking at its feet, I was too busy looking at its head…"
"No, not the floor," Hermione said angrily. "It's standing on a trapdoor, it's obviously guarding something."
"I hope you're proud of yourselves, we almost got bitten to death—or—"
Hermione was interrupted by Cohen, who crawled into the common room.
Cohen had intended to wait until they finished their discussion before coming in, but being on all fours in that narrow hole… his back was going to hurt.
There were four people in the common room: Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Neville, who seemed unlikely to speak again.
Now there was Cohen, who had just crawled out of the hole and whose robes were covered in mud.
"Maybe I came at the wrong time—"
"Cohen did it too!" Harry said, pointing at Cohen.
"Huh?" Cohen's eyes widened. "No—I didn't do anything to any of you—"
Looking for someone in Karachi today
Willing to lie about how we met
"I meant the night out, Hermione," Harry explained to Hermione. "You're making too much of a fuss about breaking the rules…"
"But at least Cohen didn't go to the fourth-floor corridor," Hermione said, emphasizing each word and giving Cohen a disappointed look—completely oblivious to the fact that she was also one of the most serious rule-breakers. "If you don't object, I'm going to bed."
Ron stared at Hermione's retreating figure, his mouth agape in astonishment.
"Go to bed, we don't object," he said. "What's this all about? It's like we dragged her there."
"Wait, where did you guys go?"
Cohen thought to himself that these guys had gone to the Cerberus in the fourth-floor corridor.
But Cohen remembered that Harry received a flying broomstick from Professor McGonagall the day after his flying lesson and had joined the Gryffindor Quidditch team.
But Malfoy, who was supposed to come and threaten Harry and Ron into a midnight duel, never showed up—Cohen had initially thought he was mistaken, but now it seemed Malfoy had simply chosen a time when Cohen wasn't there.
"It was Malfoy," Ron said viciously. "He tricked us, saying he'd duel us at midnight, but he's a complete coward!"
"And Cohen—why didn't you come to dinner?" Harry was also curious about Cohen's whereabouts. "And…"
Harry looked at the dirt on Cohen's robes.
"You went to the Forbidden Forest again?"
"Going to the Forbidden Forest is better than going to the fourth-floor corridor with her." Ron scoffed, but he was also curious about Cohen's trip to the Forbidden Forest. "Cohen, what did you see in the Forbidden Forest? I heard from Fred that there are a lot of dark magical creatures there…"
"Maybe…" Cohen raised his eyebrows cautiously. "Anyway, I didn't see many alive ones, just some spiders and some fire serpents." Ron shuddered
at the mention of spiders.
"Then I hope I never have to go there again…"
Back in their dormitory, Harry eagerly told Cohen about the "three-headed dog" they'd seen and the "trapdoor" Hermione had mentioned. He even brought up the fact that Hagrid's bag from Gringotts and the theft of Gringotts on the same day.
Cohen decided to crown Harry Hogwarts' second "information safe," with Hagrid being first.
"Cohen, what do you think is hidden under that trapdoor?" Harry lay in bed, unable to sleep. "The thing Hagrid took from Gringotts…"
"Maybe a magical potion that can turn everything into candy…" Cohen's voice came from under the covers, sounding muffled.
The Philosopher's Stone was definitely something to try; maybe a single stone could restore a lot of Cohen's soul integrity.
But how could he safely obtain the Philosopher's Stone?
Be threatened by Quirrell to eat it as a test of poison? Dumbledore would be truly senile if he believed that.
Swallow it whole to protect it from bad guys?
"What have you been protecting?!"—Cohen inexplicably hallucinated hearing this.
Headache… He couldn't figure it out all night. What's done is done, he decided to go to sleep.
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