Sysoko left, fully satisfied.
Maybe the researcher from that previous lab—the one who used to chat with it—would give it a birthday gift. Before this, Cohen had never expected a snake to ask him for a birthday present.
Arlie, however, had no such habit.
But since he had decided to get a gift for Sysoko, Cohen figured it was only fair to treat Arlie the same—though, of course, he wasn't about to give Arlie a baby nightmare. Cohen had no interest in intentionally killing a young unicorn just to conduct a nightmare experiment. Those little unicorns rolling around in his arms were just too adorable.
"Staying here all the time—doesn't it get a little boring?"
Cohen found Arlie in the study after returning to the box.
*Just a little.*
Arlie lay half-curled on the floor. It seemed to be used to wandering outside often.
*That dragon is dumber than an owl. Last time, it almost bit me—good thing I dodged fast. Otherwise, your stupid dragon would be dead.*
If it was Norbert… well, that made sense.
Especially since she was a female dragon in adolescence—Norbert had been full of energy lately, desperately needing Cohen to bring in a male dragon for company.
"Her eyesight is always terrible. But that's not important. The unicorns in the forest really miss you," Cohen said. "I can sneak you over there—Hagrid doesn't check on them that often."
Arlie nodded.
Living with unicorns was obviously much better than living with a dumb dragon. Besides, it had a grand plan.
---
When Cohen reached the edge of the Forbidden Forest, he didn't see Hagrid anywhere. His hut was shut, and his boarhound, Fang, had been left outside to stand guard.
The thestrals were still scattered around, searching for something. Cohen spotted two as soon as he entered the forest.
Just like last time, the two thestrals trotted up, trying to lick his face—apparently, that was how they greeted people.
Cohen dodged them one by one, quickly moving behind Arlie.
Even though the thestrals insisted on greeting him, it was clear he wasn't their real target.
Afterward, they continued scouring the forest, searching under fallen logs, dense bushes, even inside burrows. Their sharp cries echoed as if they were calling for something.
"What are they looking for?" Cohen frowned and asked Arlie.
*Their children. They're searching for a missing foal.*
Arlie turned its all-white eyes in the direction of one of the thestrals.
"Damn it, why can't I understand them?!" Cohen grumbled in frustration. "I can understand unicorns just fine!"
*Because you're… a mutt?*
Arlie tilted its head.
"Could you be any more blunt?" Cohen muttered, looking annoyed. "That's just disrespectful."
*...*
Arlie tried to think of a more polite way to phrase it but came up empty.
In the end, it settled for something it had heard owls say often.
*If you're bad at it, practice more.*
"Ouch. That hurts. I'm going to go argue with someone outside—one of those arguments that end with 'your mom.'"
Cohen dramatically clutched his chest.
*Pot calling the kettle black.*
Arlie scoffed.
Still, the missing thestral foal was definitely suspicious. Thestrals practically ruled the Forbidden Forest, and with Hagrid feeding them regularly, they had no reason to risk hunting outside.
The only ones who would steal thestral foals were wizards.
Cohen recalled that the thestral herd had been acting strangely since the start of the school year, meaning this had been going on for a while.
Whenever something seemed off, it was best to assume every possible suspect was involved. That meant:
1. Voldemort, who was always looking for creatures to possess.
2. Sysoko, the basilisk who had slithered its way to school.
3. The Silver Key Society, which had been showing up suspiciously often lately.
The Silver Key Society was particularly suspect. They were working on some twisted "Gu Poison Experiment," throwing different magical creatures together. Thestrals would make sense for such an experiment.
But why take the foals instead of adult thestrals?
*Oh, right. Because you can't beat the adults, can you?*
The cruel magical creature fights they were planning wouldn't happen until the end of the month—they needed a "night without moonlight" for that. The basilisk hatchling also had to wait until then.
That meant the missing foal could still be saved. No need to panic.
---
When Cohen and Arlie arrived at the unicorns' sanctuary, the unicorns welcomed Cohen as warmly as ever.
Hagrid had successfully weaned them off alcohol—at least, Cohen didn't see any drunken unicorns lying around this time.
The unicorn leader was almost too generous toward Cohen, offering him fresh grass and even some stashed-away sugar cubes. It also kept assuring him it would take good care of Arlie—as if it couldn't wait to get rid of Cohen.
"Stay put and don't corrupt them," Cohen warned Arlie before leaving.
"And no drinking—"
Arlie promised, over and over, that it wouldn't get drunk again. According to it, after all this time, its willpower was now unshakable.
…Wasn't this all going a little *too* smoothly?
As Cohen walked away from the Forbidden Forest, something didn't sit right with him.
He had the nagging feeling that the unicorns and Arlie had already come up with some secret plan.
But sneaking drinks again? That was too predictable. Cohen frowned. Something was off. Still, he decided to let Hagrid and the centaurs worry about it. He had more pressing matters—like preparing for the Silver Key fan gathering at the end of the month and discussing their upcoming attack with Voldemort.
---
Draco Malfoy had returned to school and, after dinner, had secretly slipped Cohen a note.
*8 PM. Third classroom in the Charms corridor.*
That would definitely look suspicious to an outsider—but Cohen was sure Malfoy wouldn't be there. It was probably just Voldemort's soul waiting for him.
At the appointed time, Cohen, invisible, slipped into the classroom.
It was empty—except for Voldemort's soul, inside an old book.
He really did love playing the "wise old mentor" role.
"Any new plans?" Cohen asked, glancing around to make sure the room was safe.
So far, so good—no portraits, no eavesdropping spells, and definitely no mysterious gusts of wind carrying 99 points of soul energy from unknown British ghosts.
"The basilisk is hibernating… It won't be able to attack anyone for a while…"
Voldemort's face appeared on the pages of the book.
"How's it going with Harry Potter?"
"They're planning to investigate Draco," Cohen replied. "His acting skills aren't great, and his personality change is too obvious. I think even Dumbledore has noticed—he's too smart not to…"
"I may need to find someone else for the job," Voldemort mused. "But it can't be you… I remember the Nott family serves me as well… Perhaps I should consider that boy, Theodore Nott…"
**(Latest chapter first released on Six Nine Books Bar!)**
"Doesn't matter to me," Cohen said casually. "How much longer until the basilisk wakes up?"
"Sometime in February," Voldemort's voice sounded weak. "A few more attacks, and Dumbledore will be forced out… I'll have Draco ask his father to push for it—but not in my name. I don't trust Lucius…"
So, he's willing to show himself in front of his servant's children but not his actual servants? Hah, Voldy, you're something else…
"February works," Cohen nodded. "I have something to take care of at the end of January. If the timing overlaps, it could cause misunderstandings."
"How do you plan to frame Harry? I could lure him over—actually, why don't we just make him the target?"
"He won't die that easily," Voldemort said. "The magic in him will let him hold his own against the basilisk for a while. He's weak, but that protective magic has shaped him… As long as we stall for time, Dumbledore will come rushing in. That old man has spies all over the school…"
"Alright then," Cohen said, pretending to be disappointed.
"Wait… What exactly are you doing at the end of January?" Voldemort suddenly asked.
"Killing people. My hands are itching for a fight."
Cohen answered bluntly.
"!"
Voldemort's flat face showed a mix of surprise, delight, and the kind of satisfaction a teacher feels when their student shows promise.
"A group called the Silver Key Society reached out to me," Cohen continued. "Ever heard of them?"
"No. If I haven't, they're probably not even worthy of being my Death Eaters," Voldemort said arrogantly. "Why are they contacting you? Do they know who you are? Or…"
"They don't," Cohen replied.
"You're going to kill them just because of that?" Voldemort narrowed his eyes.
"I already told you—I feel like fighting. And they just happened to show up at the right time."
Cohen said innocently.
"I only need one partner. Didn't I say that last year? I'm super loyal. Since they're not yours, I'll just kill them."
"…"
Voldemort didn't respond.
Violent, bloodthirsty, ruthless…
Dumbledore must be completely blind to let this little monster roam free at Hogwarts.
The good news, though, was that this kid trusted him—and if there was one thing Voldemort excelled at, it was exploiting trust.
"You're quite impressive, Cohen…" Voldemort said, his voice dripping with temptation. "The Ministry of Magic will be yours in the end. When the time comes, I'll help you take power. We'll kill Dumbledore, and the world will belong to us…"
"Sounds great."
Cohen agreed without hesitation.
That concluded their little strategy session. Cohen left the book behind, as Voldemort mentioned that Malfoy would be coming by to retrieve it later.
Without Quirrell to share his soul and body—or to help him stay alive with unicorn blood—Voldemort's condition was even worse than that of a wandering ghost. His vision was severely limited.
But, as he said, at least he was still alive.
Though Cohen felt like maybe that was worse than being dead. No parents, no siblings, not even a wife who loved him…
Over sixty years old and still alone. Tsk, tsk, tsk…
On his way upstairs, Cohen ran into Hermione.
"Cohen…" Hermione called out. "I was in the library just now, and a senior student slipped me this letter."
She pulled an envelope from between the pages of the thick book she was carrying.
Cohen glanced at the title: *Legendary Monsters and Their Traits.*
She'd probably figure out the basilisk soon.
"Who's it from? Dumbledore?" Cohen raised an eyebrow.
No, not Dumbledore. One look at the emblem on the envelope, and Cohen knew exactly who had sent it.
A silver, antique-looking key was embossed on the front.
Clearly, they were afraid Cohen might decide not to participate in their little "survival of the fittest" game.
"Is this some kind of club?" Hermione asked curiously. "That senior had a badge on their robe—it had the same emblem as the letter."
"It's a criminal organization," Cohen said. "I read about them in the newspaper. They kidnapped someone just a few days ago."
"Maybe they're looking for their next target."
**(End of chapter.)**