Even by dinner ti, Cohen hadn't caught a glimpse of Harry. It seed like Harry hadn't left the common room all day.
"Where's Harry?"
At the dining table, Ron stuffed two chicken drumsticks into his mouth in a completely unreasonable manner, mumbling incoherently:
"I ddn't s'ee 'im t'day…"
"Maybe he's in the dorm. I've been practicing spells in an empty classroom all day and didn't spot Harry either."
Cohen ate his Christmas feast slowly. Naturally, he hadn't touched the turkey on the table—it was awful. Even slathered in sauce, it couldn't mask its dry, hay-like texture.
*It's not even as good as… beef stew with potatoes.*
The staff table was noticeably emptier too. Only Snape and Dumbledore were deep in conversation; the other professors had probably gone off to Hogsade for a few drinks.
Cohen glanced at Quirrell's spot—empty. Chances were, Quirrell was at the Hog's Head right now, hood up, playing cards with Hagrid.
There weren't many students either. The house tables were sparsely populated, with only a handful of figures scattered across them. Most students had gone ho for the holidays—though Cohen noticed a platinum-blond boy at the Slytherin table.
*Why didn't Malfoy go ho?*
Cohen was puzzled. Just before Christmas, Malfoy had made a point in Potions class to say, "So people have to stay at Hogwarts for Christmas because their families don't want them."
That jab was ant for Harry, but since Rose and Edward weren't spending the holiday with Cohen this year, it accidentally hit him too…
So, Malfoy got a little punishnt from Cohen. After being dragged into the bathroom, Malfoy hadn't been happy for the rest of that day—his hands even shook while eating.
Cohen had seen Malfoy leave with the main group of students heading ho, so why was he back so soon?
"I'll bring so food back for Harry. He's probably starving."
Ron, having wolfed down his al at lightning speed, decided to pack so food for Harry since he hadn't shown up for lunch either.
"Cohen, you heading back to the dorm? Fred caught a red Christmas elf—though I think it might just be a goblin in disguise."
"I'm not full yet." Cohen took a sip of pumpkin soup. "You go ahead."
He said this because Malfoy was glancing his way too. Cohen could sense the anxiety radiating off him.
It was clear Malfoy was waiting for a chance to catch Cohen alone. The kid still couldn't let go of his pride, whatever it was for.
It wasn't until the Great Hall had mostly emptied out—even Dumbledore and Snape had left—that Malfoy finally approached Cohen, reluctantly and with a pinched expression.
"You… uh…"
Malfoy's eyes darted around as he spoke:
"My father told to co apologize to you."
"Oh."
Cohen imdiately understood why Malfoy had suddenly shown up.
"I said I'm sorry," Malfoy repeated, as if it were so monuntal task.
"And I said 'oh,'" Cohen echoed back.
It seed Lucius wanted his son to build a good relationship with Cohen. After all, Lucius had plenty of connections in the wizarding world and surely knew about Cohen—the "dark magic experint the Ministry couldn't kill ten years ago, no matter how hard they tried."
That's why, for the past six months, Draco hadn't dared to openly taunt Harry or pull any tricks when Cohen was around. That Potions class jab had been a rare slip-up he couldn't hold back.
But kids often don't grasp the nuances of social maneuvering—especially when it ans swallowing their pride to butter soone up.
Cohen's reaction clearly wasn't what Lucius had instructed Draco to aim for.
Malfoy took a deep breath.
"I'm sorry."
"That's the third ti you've said it," Cohen replied, growing impatient. "Just get to the point. Did your dad plan to give sothing?"
"How did you know—did you put sothing on ?!"
Malfoy asked in a panic, recalling what Cohen had done to him the day before the holidays. It must've been so spell or curse—his mind had been filled with nothing but terrifying, hopeless thoughts all day…
"I know everything," Cohen said, keeping his voice low in the Great Hall. "Last ti, you verbally attacked both and Harry, so I gave you a little punishnt. This apology settles that. If you don't get to the point, I'm heading back to the dorm."
"Wait, I've got one more thing to say—" Malfoy hurriedly added as Cohen stood to leave:
"My dad wants to invite you to Malfoy Manor. Any ti you like."
"Why would I go to your place?" Cohen wasn't keen. "Besides, I don't have much free ti during the school year—"
Suddenly, Cohen thought of a plan.
A plan to get himself to Azkaban.
Rose and Edward would never agree to let him go there, nor would they let him leave for so flimsy excuse…
But Lucius was different!
The more extre and sinister Cohen acted, the more Lucius would see him as a potential next-generation Dark Lord. If Cohen could use the excuse of visiting the Malfoys…
"What about sumr?" Malfoy asked eagerly, under strict orders from Lucius. "Do you have plans for the sumr?"
"Sumr's free, but you'd need to co up with a reason my parents would accept to let visit you. Fair warning—they probably won't want anything to do with your family," Cohen said flatly. "If you can't think of sothing good, pass that along to your dad."
In the end, Malfoy left behind a small gift box, saying it was an apology present from Lucius to Cohen.
The conversation ended quickly. Malfoy had hoped to patch things up with Cohen (not that they'd ever had any friendship to begin with), but Cohen's cold deanor convinced him that "apologizing" was useless.
It felt like their relationship was purely transactional.
Malfoy bolted out of there like his life depended on it. Cohen, anwhile, planned to toss the gift into the Room of Requirent before heading back to the dorm to sleep.
Learning magic was already a defiance of the heavens, and dying halfway through wasn't uncommon—
Practicing spells today had been the limit of Cohen's Christmas break plans. For the rest of the holiday, he was determined to avoid opening a single book. He'd either hang out with Hagrid or run wild with the Weasley twins.
In the Room of Requirent, Cohen opened the gift box. Inside was a lake-blue gemstone, intricately engraved with dense patterns—clearly so kind of magical object.
"Trying to warm up to a dentor is pretty stupid."
Earl, after hearing Cohen's rough explanation, let out a mocking jab at the Malfoy family's antics.
"Dentors are cold—especially to a little **** like you—"
"Their family's always survived by playing both sides," Cohen said neutrally.
"From a family strategy perspective, it makes sense. If I were them, I'd also try to get on the good side of 'Cohen,' the unkillable evil entity. Too bad Malfoy hasn't been properly trained for this."
(End of Chapter)
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