"Northumberland, in a manor—tsk tsk tsk, you can hear the shrieks of souls from a hundred or two hundred miles away."
The Earl recalled the scene with a mocking tsk.
"Nobody dares to live there now—but it should be like home for you—note, in the two sentences I just said, 'Never-lived' and 'homeland' rhyme perfectly, it's hilarious—"
"You can shut up now." Cohen sighed, rubbing his forehead. "I'll sneak out for Christmas, anyway, Mom and Dad won't take me out for the holidays…"
Northumberland isn't too far from the Scottish Highlands; Cohen felt he could fly there—hopefully he wouldn't be seen. Muggles can't see Dementors, so Cohen would at most scare a few wizards who glimpsed Dementors in the sky…
The day before Halloween, their Charms class reached a historic moment.
After Cohen had tried a whole bunch of spells, his classmates were finally able to learn their first spell.
"That's why I say homework is completely useless," Cohen whispered to Harry during Charms class. "Homework is the most evil invention in the world."
"Agreed," Harry nodded in agreement.
Hermione had barely spoken to either of them since Harry and the others escaped from Cerberus—so she didn't seem happy when she was assigned to sit next to Ron.
"Alright, and don't forget that subtle wrist movement we've been practicing!"
Professor Flitwick shouted from his towering stack of books.
"A flick and a shake, remember, a flick and a shake. Pronouncing the spell correctly is also very important—don't forget Baltheuver the wizard, who pronounced 'f' as 's' and found himself lying on the floor with a bison standing on his chest."
This magical practice was done in pairs, and Cohen was lucky enough to be assigned to Neville—Neville was at least better than Seamus next to Harry, so Cohen didn't have to worry about the feathers next to him suddenly exploding.
Cohen had learned the spell after only a few practices at home, leading him to believe that magical practice was a very simple thing.
But for the other young wizards, simply reciting the spell accurately was already a difficult task.
"Wingardium Leviosa
..."
Neville, his partner, had recited the spell countless times, but the feather in front of him remained motionless.
"Please, something happens..." Neville groaned.
It seemed Neville would rather summon a bison like that "Barufio Wizard" than wave his wand around like a Muggle.
"You forgot the hand gesture," Cohen kindly reminded him, because Neville was genuinely just reciting the spell, his hand holding the wand not moving an inch.
"Oh—oh..." Neville responded nervously, beginning to wave his wand in the air repeatedly to recall the gesture.
[Ding!] [Goodwill Value +1]
The classic routine is between Ron and Hermione at the next table—
"You're wrong," Hermione said bluntly to Ron. "It's Yuga-Dim, Levi-O-Sa, not Yuga-Dim, Levi-O-Sa. The 'Jia' has to be pronounced long and clearly."
"Since you're so clever, why don't you try it yourself?" Ron roared, his face flushed.
"I don't know what happened, but nobody in the classroom is bleeding from five layers of blood, yet someone seems to be in a blood rage," Cohen complained.
"What's 'blood rage'?" Neville asked Cohen, puzzled. "Is it a requirement of the spell?"
Cohen gestured towards Ron, indicating that Neville shouldn't miss this scene, because Ron looked like his face was on fire. Hermione,
who had just been instructing Ron, rolled up her sleeves, waved her wand, and said:
'Wingar-dium Levi-o-sa!".
"
Hermione's spell worked on the first try; the feather rose from the table.
Ron's face didn't just look like it was on fire, it looked like it was about to explode.
For the rest of the lesson, Cohen successfully taught Neville how to cast spells correctly—Ron was now one of the few young wizards in the class who couldn't make the feather float.
The more anxious you are, the more likely you are to trip over your own feet. It wasn't
until near the end of class, when Ron was in a terrible mood, that he finally completed the lesson's requirements.
"Thank you, Cohen..." Neville thanked Cohen repeatedly as he packed up his things after class, "Otherwise, I feel like I would definitely have been punished with detention..."
"You were just too nervous; the spell and the movements were both very good," the kind Cohen comforted him.
[Ding! Goodwill Value +5]
Cohen swore he absolutely wasn't showing goodwill for the sake of goodwill points.
"Oh, Neville, don't wait for me. Professor Quirrell has requisitioned me for the next class—explain it to Professor Sprout if he asks."
The other young wizards were already packed and ready for their next class. Cohen, slowly packing his bag, said this to Neville.
Cohen had to spend the rest of the afternoon luring the troll to school.
With the Earl leading the way, Cohen quickly flew to the mountains north of the Forbidden Forest and found the troll's lair, built of rounded stones.
"I can't believe I brought a Dementor to a troll's lair." The Earl stopped on the "stone" in front of Cohen, who had already deactivated his Dementor form—to avoid scaring the troll away. "God must be fucking crazy."
"Whether God is crazy or not, I don't know, but you definitely are."
Cohen looked at the black "stone" at the Earl's feet and took a few steps back in awe.
"What—damn!" The Earl quickly flapped his wings and took flight.
"No entry to the Room of Requirement or the Gryffindor Tower until you're clean," Cohen demanded.
"How the hell am I supposed to wash my paws?!" the Earl retorted. "Couldn't you just cast a spell?"
After dealing with the Earl, Cohen began setting up the troll trap.
Following Newt's example, he found a slightly worn leather trunk in the Room of Requirement's junkyard, cast a Stretch Charm and a Fortify Charm on it—and also found the "Ravenclaw Crown" hidden in the junkyard.
The soul fragment inside the Horcrux only had 20 points of strength; Cohen only needed to raise it a little more to consume it—so he left it in the Room of Requirement's "Cohen Base."
Everything went smoothly. Cohen opened the trunk at the troll's entrance and transformed the ground at the entrance into smooth marble—so the troll would slide into the trunk as soon as it stepped out.
Then, Cohen entered the dark cave.
The troll's snoring faintly echoed from the depths of the cave, a stench and a musty smell permeating the air. Cohen took only one step before turning back.
"Thunderous explosion!"
Join p4treon for advanced chapters.
Support me for my study...
[email protected]/Horizons685
(End of Chapter)