The Norton family fireplace wasn't connected to the Floo Network, and Edward wasn't particularly confident in his Apparition skills.
"I had to retake the exam once," he admitted with a helpless shrug. "The examiner even added an extra task—Apparating with a chipmunk. Luckily, he didn't notice the poor thing lost its tail halfway through. Otherwise, I might have failed again."
"Let's just take the car," Cohen said immediately, feeling a phantom chill somewhere behind him. "At least if something goes wrong, I won't lose any body parts."
Edward chuckled and ruffled his hair before ushering him into the back seat. Today, Cohen was unusually cooperative.
"Since you're about to enter the Wizarding World, your mother and I will register our fireplace with the Ministry of Magic next month. Traveling will be much more convenient after that."
Edward had always tried to pat Cohen's head in the past, but Cohen would dodge every time. Strangely, Rose never had that problem.
Perhaps, Edward thought with amusement, the boy was secretly excited—dreaming about the magical world he had only heard about in stories.
In reality, Cohen's repeated deep breaths had nothing to do with excitement. Entering a crowded place meant exposure to countless souls—and that, for him, was dangerous.
Too many souls meant temptation.
And temptation meant hunger.
To avoid being discovered by Aurors and dragged off to Azkaban for "illegally consuming souls," Cohen had developed a workaround: candy. Sweet things tasted close enough to souls to keep the cravings at bay. His pockets were always stocked.
Halfway through the drive, Cohen realized that acting too indifferent might seem suspicious for an eleven-year-old about to enter the magical world for the first time.
"Are there… families like that in the Wizarding World?" he asked, feigning curiosity.
"Of course," Edward replied, overtaking a slow car and running a red light without hesitation. "Wherever there are people, there are old families."
The traffic police didn't even react.
Cohen narrowed his eyes. That reminded him suspiciously of Arthur Weasley's modified car. No wonder Edward had never gotten a ticket.
Edward continued, casually listing several prominent wizarding families. Cohen only retained a few familiar names from what he remembered of the Harry Potter stories.
"Do you and Mom belong to a wizarding family?" Cohen asked, this time genuinely curious.
"We do, technically," Edward said. "Your grandparents were both wizards, but beyond that, there's no significant magical lineage."
He paused.
"Your mother is different. She used to belong to the Burke family. According to pure-blood standards, that makes her… well, noble."
"Used to?" Cohen asked, already aware of the implications.
"She was disowned for dating me," Edward said with a sigh. "Though she claims she would've left anyway."
"That family dealt heavily in Dark Arts—especially during You-Know-Who's rise. They even threatened to throw her into a pit of Inferi. Frankly, it's no surprise she ended up in Gryffindor. That kind of courage… I could never match it as a Hufflepuff."
Cohen leaned forward and patted Edward's shoulder.
"You're a bit careless, sometimes lazy, and you did leave me at the zoo for three hours once," he said thoughtfully. "But you're a good dad. I approve."
Edward froze, clearly caught off guard.
Then his shoulders trembled slightly.
"We're here," he said quickly, pulling over.
The car stopped between a bookstore and a record shop. Nestled between them was a narrow, shabby entrance with a weathered sign: The Leaky Cauldron.
"This is one of the most famous places in the Wizarding World," Edward explained, discreetly wiping his eyes. "And the entrance to Diagon Alley."
Inside, the pub was loud and crowded. The smell of alcohol, food, and something else—something far more enticing—filled the air.
Souls.
Cohen's vision sharpened.
Soul Strength: 27.
He glanced at a group of elderly women drinking in the corner.
Not easy targets.
Behind the bar stood Tom, the innkeeper.
Soul Strength: 19.
Disappointing.
Edward and Cohen passed through without drawing much attention. No one recognized Edward.
"Looks like ten years is enough to become a stranger," he muttered.
They moved to the backyard, where a brick wall stood silently.
Cohen had already begun analyzing what he had observed. Most adult wizards seemed to have soul strengths between fifteen and forty.
Edward's ten was abnormally low.
Interesting.
But not worth questioning—yet.
"Two bricks across… three up…" Edward muttered, tapping the wall.
The bricks shifted and parted, revealing a growing archway.
Within seconds, Diagon Alley appeared before them.
Cohen's composure cracked.
The street was alive—gleaming shop signs, shining cauldrons, magical instruments, and crowds of wizards bustling in every direction. The air was thick with energy… and sweetness.
He quietly unwrapped a toffee and slipped it into his mouth.
Just in case.
They passed several shops, eventually stopping in front of Eeylops Owl Emporium.
"Want an owl?" Edward asked.
"Does it… have to eat?" Cohen asked cautiously. "Or… produce waste?"
Edward stared at him.
"What kind of question is that?"
After a brief discussion, Cohen reluctantly agreed. An owl was the most practical choice.
They continued to Ollivanders.
Inside, the shop was far larger than it appeared. Wand boxes stretched from floor to ceiling in endless rows.
"It's bigger on the inside…" Cohen murmured.
"Undetectable Extension Charm," a soft voice said.
Mr. Ollivander descended from above.
After a brief greeting, the wand selection began.
And immediately went wrong.
The first wand sparked violently before even leaving its box.
The second shot across the room like a projectile.
The third refused to be touched.
One after another, the wands rejected Cohen—some more dramatically than others.
Hours passed.
Edward began to doze off.
Finally, one wand remained.
"Oak… unicorn hair… twelve inches…" Ollivander muttered, opening the box carefully.
This time, nothing exploded.
Cohen stepped forward.
The wand lay still.
Calm.
Accepting.
A strange feeling stirred within him.
A Dementor… wielding a wand made with unicorn hair?
He stared at it, expression unreadable.
Was that… allowed?