Even though Harry's explanation was a bit choppy, Dumbledore didn't interrupt or toss out any mid-story questions.
He just sat there, listening kindly, which made the pressure in Harry's chest lighten up bit by bit.
It didn't seem like Professor Dumbledore suspected them at all.
"A house-elf nad Dobby said this is about Voldemort and a Hogwarts student, right?" Dumbledore asked, just to confirm. "But he didn't give a na and kept punishing himself while trying to explain."
"Yeah, Professor—" Harry tensed up instantly. "Do you think he's lying?"
"I don't believe so, Harry," Dumbledore said gently. "House-elves are bound by magic. They can't disobey their masters or spill their secrets. That's why Dobby couldn't say much and started losing it, punishing himself when he tried to tell you the truth."
"That's awful!" Hermione burst out, looking furious. "It's pure slavery! Why would wizards—"
She froze mid-rant, realizing she was in the headmaster's office.
"Sorry, Professor Dumbledore…"
"No need to apologize for standing up for what's right," Dumbledore said with a warm smile. "People have to call out problems before they can fix them. Ignoring them just lets the mistakes pile up."
Hermione dipped her head, mulling over his words as the conversation swung back to the Chamber.
"Since you're already aware there might be a secret chamber left by the founders—and maybe a monster too—you must also understand how dangerous that could be, yes?" Dumbledore's gaze swept over the four of them, his tone firming up a little. "So, let offer so advice from an old man: please don't go looking for the Chamber or whatever's inside it yourselves. And try to avoid wandering around at night lately—you don't want to stumble into unnecessary trouble…"
He gave Harry a quick wink.
But not Cohen—ha, guess that ant Cohen had a free pass to roam!
"Well, that's enough nagging from your headmaster," Dumbledore said, bidding them goodbye. "Thanks for the helpful info, all of you."
"But Cohen, could you stick around? I'd like to chat about a few things—don't worry, it's not about schoolwork or cracking down on leave requests."
Man, if only it *were* about schoolwork or leave requests.
Cohen grumbled to himself.
Before heading out, Harry, Ron, and Hermione shot Cohen three sympathetic looks—those "sorry, buddy, you're on your own, we're outta here" vibes.
"What's up?" Cohen, who'd started to stand, plopped back into his seat.
"How was your sumr?" Dumbledore asked, sounding like any old grandpa checking in. "Hagrid ntioned that dragon you two are raising is coming along nicely."
"Sumr?" Cohen raised an eyebrow. "Oh, it was packed. First, my dad signed up for this tour group thing. Then I went to visit so family. After that, and Dad set up a sheep farm for Norbert—except Norbert's got this hoarding habit. One night, he snatched all three hundred-sothing sheep I'd raised for him and stuffed them in a cave. Pissed off so much I didn't get him new ones till right before school started…"
Dumbledore's heart ward as Cohen rattled off his idyllic sumr, complete with family bonding. A life full of love—surely Cohen wouldn't…
Hold up.
What did he just slip in there? Visiting family?
"Sounds like quite a full break—sorry, what did you an by 'visiting family'?" Dumbledore asked.
"Didn't you guys tell about my background last term?" Cohen said, selectively dropping so details. "I dug up so info on that lab, so while I was on the tour, I swung by Burke Manor. t a guy nad Herbert Burke."
Cohen said it so casually that Dumbledore figured it hadn't stirred up any bad vibes for him.
After all, if Cohen had so shady ulterior motive, he wouldn't just blurt out that he'd gone to Burke Manor.
"He said he was the old 'Cohen's' dad," Cohen continued, eting Dumbledore's eyes. "I don't rember any of it, but he was over the moon to see again. Hugged and bawled his eyes out for ages…"
"Herbert was the only survivor of that experint," Dumbledore said. "But he never said a word about his role in it. Just quietly took the bla and stayed on as a lifelong guard at the ruins of Burke Manor."
"Because he thinks he's guilty," Cohen replied. "And he feels like he let down his sister, Rose—my mom. Whatever, it's his call how he wants to handle it…"
"And what about you, Cohen?" Dumbledore asked. "What do you think of him?"
"I could tell his love for was real—especially when he was hugging and crying," Cohen said. "But yeah, he's done a lot of ssed-up stuff too, so serving his sentence makes sense. Still, there's no law saying I can't send him a Christmas present, right?"
"Of course not," Dumbledore chuckled. "Even Azkaban prisoners can get Christmas gifts—though most folks don't bother sending them. Out of curiosity, what are you planning to give him this year?"
"He said he wants wool socks," Cohen answered. "Already got them. I'll have my owl drop them off before Christmas—guess it gets pretty cold over there."
Dumbledore's bright blue eyes seed to glisten a little.
"That's a wonderful gift, Cohen," he said, clearly pleased. "It really does sound like you had a full sumr."
"Except for the howork part," Cohen quipped. "Almost forgot to do it—you don't handle sumr assignnts, right?"
"That's not my departnt," Dumbledore said, wiping a corner of his eye. "Oh, one last thing—I recall Harry ntioning sothing about a mysterious creature sneaking into your dorm? Into your bed, even? I'd like your take on that."
Here it was—the big mont!
The Basilisk's fate might hang on this.
"Felt like sothing scaly," Cohen mused. "Cold, too. Moved crazy fast and gave this weird vibe…"
"What kind of vibe?" Dumbledore perked up, fully alert.
"The sa kind I got when Herbert hugged ," Cohen said.
(End of Chapter)
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