Did Voldemort just track down Draco?
"Wait—hold up! Looks like Harry's spotted the Golden Snitch!" Ron blurted out suddenly.
The gloomy sky finally let loose a light drizzle. Harry and a Bludger zipped through the rain, one chasing the other. But unlike before when he was just dodging, this ti Harry was clearly going after sothing specific.
Even though Draco had been totally zoned out, he snapped back to reality. He swooped right up to Harry's side—there was still a chance to turn this around. His Nimbus 2001 was faster than Harry's Nimbus 2000, after all.
With the rain coming down, it was tough to keep an eye on both a rival flying ahead and a walnut-sized ball at the sa ti. So when Harry started faking Draco out with tricky moves, Draco had no choice but to follow his lead and weave around too.
The two of them were getting farther and farther from the fleeing Golden Snitch—which was exactly what Harry wanted. He'd taken control of the chase now. He needed to use these roundabout tactics to put more distance between him and Draco. That way, he could snag the Snitch first. In a straight-up chase, he'd lose for sure.
The match was getting intense, but up in the stands, Cohen wasn't all that invested in who won.
He had bigger things on his mind.
If Voldemort had gotten to Malfoy, there was no telling whether Malfoy would spill the beans about Lucius handing that diary over to Cohen.
The Malfoys falling apart was small potatoes. The real problem was Cohen losing a major pipeline for racking up sin points and goodwill points.
Voldemort was like a walking, talking generator for both of those—Cohen just had to brush up against him to cash in big ti. He couldn't let things slide into pure enemy territory so easily.
After all, an archenemy's an archenemy. There's no turning them into—
"Hermione, stop covering your face! Look—Harry's got it—Bloody hell, Harry's in trouble!" Ron shoved Hermione excitedly at first, but his face went white as a sheet a second later.
Harry took a hit from a Bludger—and then he fell off his broom.
Madam Hooch, the referee, blew her whistle and declared Gryffindor the winner.
The Gryffindor crowd jumped up and rushed toward the stairs, eager to check on Harry. Cohen tagged along with the mob, but he couldn't follow the Gryffindors to the hospital wing with Harry right now.
They didn't need another gawker like Cohen there. He had to track down Malfoy and figure out what was going on.
After the match, the Slytherin team trudged glumly toward the locker room. Malfoy changed in silence, bolting out without even a goodbye to his teammates.
Cohen intercepted him on the way back to the common room, yanking him into a hallway bathroom.
Why did this suddenly feel like a school bully move?
"Ah—you—" Malfoy stamred, his eyes darting nervously.
In a situation like this, Cohen didn't even need to say anything.
Real interrogation pros only need the simplest tricks.
"…"
Cohen crossed his arms and stared at him quietly.
"What—" Malfoy swallowed hard, sneaking a quick glance at Cohen.
The pressure had been building up for days. The Dark Lord wanted him—a student—to kill soone? How was that even possible? Who starts killing people in school? What if he got caught? Was he going to end up in Azkaban?
"You… you know?" he blurted out.
Talk about a fast confession! Cohen figured it'd take ages to crack him—Malfoy caved in three seconds flat.
"Help —he told to kill soone—I… I…" Malfoy pleaded. "I couldn't tell anyone—"
"So you just spilled it to ?" Cohen struggled to keep a straight face. "I haven't even threatened you yet. And isn't it normal for him to ask you to kill soone? It'd be weirder if Voldemort wanted you to be a model student."
"But I…" Malfoy hesitated. "Wait—there's sothing you need to know. He's got it out for you… He told to pin so attack on you. I'm so confused—I thought you were on his side—so I didn't ntion the diary my dad gave you…"
"Good call not saying anything. If you had, your family would've been toast," Cohen nodded. "Lucky for you, he's just a wisp of a soul right now and can't use Legilincy."
"Huh?"
Malfoy stared at Cohen, dumbfounded.
"So back then, you…"
"Let's not drag kids into this kind of ss," Cohen said. "You've got a leaky mouth, though. I'll tweak your mory in a sec so you don't blab and get your family on Voldemort's hit list. You should be thanking ."
Malfoy couldn't shake how weird this all sounded. Erasing his mory might actually keep the Dark Lord from finding out his family screwed up by giving away the diary…
"But I already told him—about you wanting to bring him back," Malfoy said uneasily. "Will that ss anything up? He seed pretty happy about it."
"Then he's got every reason to be," Cohen replied. "And yeah, that's my plan."
"But why's he still telling to fra you?" Malfoy asked, puzzled. "Aren't you two supposed to be—"
"Because he wants too much," Cohen raised an eyebrow. "Probably hopes I'll break with the good guys over a misunderstanding. It's not hard to figure out."
"And you're not mad?"
"Would you get mad at food for tricking you?" Cohen said calmly.
Malfoy froze.
The stress piling up had almost made him forget Cohen was a Dentor. Maybe to Cohen, people were just… like that.
"Enough chit-chat. No point dragging this out—I'm wiping so of your mories next," Cohen said, pulling out his wand.
"Wait—can you make him co after you… or soone else instead?" Malfoy panicked. "I don't want—"
"What are you scared of? If it gets out, just say Voldemort forced you," Cohen said. "Besides, I've got a next step planned—relax, mory tweaks are quick."
After giving Malfoy's mory a major overhaul, Cohen let the dazed kid stumble out of the bathroom.
Funny, last year he'd sucked Malfoy's happiness dry as punishnt in this sa first-floor bathroom…
Now, Malfoy's mory had no trace of Lucius handing Cohen the diary—or their little chat just now. Instead, it was replaced with a fake one: "Cohen's investigating the Chamber of Secrets and traced it to Malfoy; Voldemort's hideout with Malfoy's about to be exposed."
Once Malfoy snapped out of it, he'd run straight to Voldemort with that story. Then Cohen could gauge what Voldemort really thought of him…
"This feels so weird," Cohen muttered.
Back in the Room of Requirent, after filling the Earl in on the plan, it still felt off.
"I've seen this before!" the Earl piped up. "Two stubborn jerks both waiting for the other to make the first move—"
(End of Chapter)
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