To properly study the Patronus Charm, Cohen had even gone to the library and borrowed a few books.
Back in the Room of Requirent, he settled by the warm fireplace and kicked off a new round of spell research—hands-on practice was way more fun than those theoretical classes, no wonder Harry and Ron had zero interest in studying.
Earl was thrilled that Cohen didn't pull Yali out of the pouch again.
"Phew… can we just leave her with Hagrid from now on?"
"If the centaurs in the forest don't ss with her," Cohen replied, not entirely sold on the idea. The centaurs wouldn't tolerate anything as violently extre or evil as Yali mixing into their woods—and with her looking nothing like a "normal unicorn" from head to toe, she'd definitely set them off.
Cohen wasn't worried about Yali's safety so much as he didn't want to end up slaughtering all the centaurs. Who knew what kind of ss Yali's curses would unleash on the Forbidden Forest if they fully erupted? His sin points would skyrocket, Dumbledore's annoyance would too, and then Cohen wouldn't even be able to pop into the forest for a snack anymore. There were still other creatures with edible souls out there—like werewolves.
"She's not safe here!" Earl, realizing subtle hints weren't working, got blunt with Cohen. "She wants to kill !"
"That's because you talk too much. What's she gonna do to you—stab your wings? Rip your beak off?"
"I feel like she wants to tear out my prostate," Earl argued with conviction. "The way she's aiming…"
"Keep talking, and *I'll* be the one tearing out your prostate," Cohen shot Earl a dangerous glare.
After shooing Earl off with squirrel-chasing chirps and sending him to his nest on the other side of the room, Cohen turned to the books.
Miranda Goshawk's *Analysis of Ancient Spells* had a detailed breakdown of the Patronus Charm. Compared to Cohen's *Encyclopedia of Positive Magic*, this one leaned heavier on "historical records" and "origin studies."
The Patronus Charm was one of the most famous spells known to wizards and among the most powerful defensive charms.
It was an incredibly complex and difficult incantation that summoned a semi-tangible embodint of positive energy—a Patronus.
It could drive off Dentors and Lethifolds, creatures with no other known defense.
Cohen had firsthand experience—it really did knock him dizzy, though it wouldn't actually kill him—er, kill a monster, that is.
In the book, Goshawk drew a conclusion from historical evidence: only those with pure hearts could summon a Patronus. She cited a famous case—dark wizard Raczidian tried casting the spell, backfired, and was devoured by the maggots he conjured instead.
Most dark wizards either t Raczidian's fate or couldn't get the spell to work at all—like firing a blank shot.
Cohen wasn't entirely on board with the book's claim that "people with negative personality traits can't summon a Patronus." After all, Umbridge could produce a cat-shaped Patronus, and she was hardly free of negative traits.
So the rule might not be that strict. A better take might be: "People who constantly rely on extre negative emotions to cast dark magic can't muster pure, happy mories." Their joy stemd from pain, bullying, and slaughter.
Cohen felt he didn't fit that mold at all. When he killed people or animals, he was granting them release—whether by eating their souls or hitting them with an Avada Kedavra, it was painless. Wasn't that kinder than plucking feathers for a barbecue?
But this made him realize he'd been picking the wrong mories. Maybe he shouldn't use ones like Edward getting bossed around by Rose—or nabbing a lollipop from the neighbor's kid.
They might be happy, but not pure enough.
"Expecto Patronum!"
Cohen adjusted his mory selection—focusing on monts like agreeing to stay with Herbert, the emotions he'd felt from Herbert, or the send-off from Rose and Edward.
A denser cloud of white mist billowed from his wand tip, starting to form into a massive creature—but there was resistance. This ti, Cohen felt it clearly, a pushback from his own soul.
It was like finishing a huge dump and being forced to touch it—your brain's yelling at your hand to do it, but your hand's fighting back with everything it's got.
Cohen's body was casting the spell, but his soul was resisting, refusing to fully release those happy mories.
He was in a superposition of wanting to cast the Patronus Charm and *not* wanting to.
"I'm calling this the Cohen Principle."
Cohen gave up on that attempt. No matter how hard he pushed, the Patronus wouldn't take shape.
"Damn it, a Dentor learning the Patronus Charm—what kind of dream am I having…" Earl froze in his nest like an owl statue, staring straight at Cohen.
The scariest part was that Cohen had actually produced a non-corporeal Patronus. What if…
The mont Earl spoke, Cohen's eyes locked onto him. If his soul instinctively refused to release positive emotions… could he use soone else's?
Cohen could *suck* them out!
"What are you up to?!"
Earl shivered under Cohen's wickedly excited stare. That look usually ant either his feathers were getting plucked or he'd be roped into so nonsense like "go drop a turd on a student's head…"
"You—cast a Patronus Charm," Cohen said, rubbing his hands together eagerly.
"Are you nuts?" Earl asked, baffled. "I won't be able to stop myself from ramming it into you—you know how much you piss off. You're up there with that pervert who stole Grindelwald's underwear…"
"That was *your* idea to steal Grindelwald's underwear—I heard you plotting it outside the window," Cohen deadpanned, staring Earl down. "Dumbledore'd pluck you bald if he heard that. Stop stalling—do it."
"Fine, fine…"
Earl smacked his beak in resignation, flapped over to the table, and grabbed his wand with his talons:
"Expecto—"
The instant Earl's happiness surged, Cohen struck—
*Slurp~*
This ti, instead of swallowing the sweet emotion whole, Cohen channeled it straight into—
"Expecto Patronum!"
A colossal figure burst from his wand tip. At first, it looked like the misty haze of a non-corporeal Patronus—but as it fully unfurled…
"Holy mother of—*Dentor Patronus*!?"
Earl, abruptly stripped of his joy, squawked in shock at the sight.
(End of Chapter)
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