Hogwarts, i am Dementor

After retreating from the depths of the Forbidden Forest, the sky had fully darkened into night.

A round moon hung among the clouds, and faint howls of werewolves echoed in the distance—but Cohen wasn't in the mood to fly that far tonight.

It was time to head back and sleep.

Looking at his soul integrity, now at 19%, Cohen nodded with satisfaction and shed his Dementor form at the forest's edge. Flying back to Gryffindor Tower like that would probably get him blasted on sight by Dumbledore.

Heaven knew if that old man's phoenix Patronus could peck Cohen's soul apart in one go—he wielded the Elder Wand, after all.

"Both made of elder wood, so why can't you be more like it…?" 

Cohen muttered to his wand's core.

But the wand's soul stayed tucked away inside—Cohen sometimes wondered if it was even still alive.

Night cloaked the castle and its grounds. The path back to the dorms should be safe from prying eyes—only a few lights glowed in the towers, while most of the castle's braziers and candles had gone out.

But as Cohen sneaked back into the castle…

"Ha! Caught you!" 

Filch's gritted-teeth voice rang out. He leapt from a corner like a ghost, holding a yellow oil lamp.

"I knew it was you Gryffindor brats… Was it you who threw that dungbomb last time—?"

"Obliviate!" 

Cohen flung a Memory Charm over his shoulder without hesitation. Morality was for students stuck in detention—Cohen had no intention of wasting time scrubbing the castle or peeling Flobberworms.

While Filch stood dazed, Cohen bolted.

Good thing he could see the dark staircases clearly—though he wasn't sure how (pure Dementors didn't even have eyes). Otherwise, those tricky steps that loved trapping legs would've held him up for ages.

Filch, a Squib, could be controlled with magic, but the castle stairs? No such luck.

Damage them even a little, and it's a weekend detention at minimum. Worse, and they'd call your parents.

Cohen did *not* want to see an furious Rose in the headmaster's office.

At the Fat Lady's portrait, Cohen was surprised to find her still awake this late— 

"Oh, where'd you all go for a secret party tonight?" the Fat Lady asked curiously.

"Pig snout—has anyone else come out?" Cohen gave the password and followed up with a question.

"You'll see when you get inside. They were in more of a rush than you—sweaty from running." The Fat Lady yawned as her frame swung forward, revealing the passage to the common room. "There aren't any more of your friends still out there, right…? I'm going to sleep…"

Crawling in, Cohen immediately knew who the other rule-breakers were tonight.

"You—you lot—what are your eyes for?" Hermione's voice was bristling with anger. "Didn't you see what it was standing on?"

"The floor?" Harry's voice replied. "I didn't look at its feet—I was too busy staring at its heads…"

"No, not the floor," Hermione snapped. "It was standing on a trapdoor. It's obviously guarding something."

"I hope you're proud of yourselves. We could've been bitten to death—or—"

Hermione's rant was cut off as Cohen clambered into the common room.

He'd meant to wait until they finished talking, but crouching on all fours in a narrow tunnel for too long… his back was killing him.

There were four people in the common room: Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Neville, who looked like he'd never speak again. 

Now, a muddy-robed Cohen joined them, fresh from the tunnel.

"Maybe I came at a bad time—"

"Cohen did it too!" Harry pointed at him.

"Huh?" Cohen's eyes widened. "Wait—no, I didn't mess with any of you—"

"I meant the sneaking out, Hermione," Harry clarified to her. "You're making too big a deal out of breaking the rules…"

"At least Cohen didn't go to the fourth-floor corridor," Hermione said pointedly, shooting him a disappointed look—completely oblivious to her own status as one of the night's worst offenders. "If you don't mind, I'm going to bed."

Ron gaped at Hermione's retreating figure.

"Go sleep. We don't mind," he said. "What's her deal? It's not like we dragged her along."

"Wait, where'd you guys go?" 

Cohen couldn't shake the feeling they'd been to the three-headed dog on the fourth floor.

Harry had gotten a broom from Professor McGonagall the day after flying lessons and joined the Gryffindor Quidditch team. But Malfoy, who was supposed to challenge Harry and Ron to a midnight duel, hadn't shown up then—Cohen had thought he'd misremembered, but it seemed Malfoy had just picked a time when Cohen wasn't around.

"It was Malfoy," Ron growled. "He tricked us—said at dinner he'd duel us at midnight, but he's a total coward!"

"And Cohen—why'd you skip dinner?" Harry asked, curious about Cohen's whereabouts. His eyes drifted to the mud on Cohen's robe. "Did you go to the Forbidden Forest again?"

"Better the forest than following her to the fourth floor," Ron muttered, though he was intrigued by Cohen's forest trip too. "What'd you see in there, Cohen? Fred says it's full of Dark creatures…"

"Maybe…" Cohen raised his eyebrows awkwardly. "I didn't see much alive—just some spiders and an ashwinder."

At the word "spiders," Ron shuddered.

"Then I hope I never set foot in there…"

Back in the dorm, Harry eagerly told Cohen about the "three-headed dog" they'd seen, the trapdoor Hermione mentioned, and even Hagrid's little package from Gringotts—plus the break-in that happened the same day.

Cohen mentally crowned Harry Hogwarts' second "information vault," with Hagrid in first place.

"Cohen, what do you think's under that trapdoor?" Harry asked, lying in bed, unable to sleep. "That thing Hagrid took from Gringotts…"

"Maybe a potion that turns everything into candy…" Cohen's muffled voice came from under his blankets.

The Philosopher's Stone was definitely worth a shot. One stone might boost his soul integrity by a ton.

But how could he get it safely? 

Pretend Quirrell forced him to test it for poison? Dumbledore would have to be senile to buy that.

Swallow it to "protect" it from bad guys? 

*"What did you even protect?!"*—Cohen imagined someone yelling that at him.

Headache… He couldn't figure it out in one night. Oh well, time to sleep.

(*End of Chapter*)