Hogwarts, i am Dementor

Here's hoping Earl can seize his chance to stay alive.

With that, Cohen began flipping through a few books borrowed from the library.

First up was alchemy. Cohen spotted a familiar word inside—"Albus" (meaning whitening).

"Albus…" Cohen's mouth twitched.

So Dumbledore's name was an alchemy term?!

Alchemy originated in Egypt, where a wizard named Hermes condensed it into thirteen sentences, carving them onto an emerald tablet (the *Emerald Tablet*, or *Tabula Smaragdina*).

Nearly all wizarding alchemy texts were analyses and expansions of those thirteen lines, and the ultimate goal of alchemy—the Philosopher's Stone…

Ha, it was sitting in the school, waiting to be stolen. Studying this now felt pretty pointless.

"If you're serious about this, why not just go steal it?"

Cohen sighed.

Alchemy revolved around one ultimate purpose—the Philosopher's Stone. All those other alchemical items were just side perks, like how Eastern alchemy stumbled into gunpowder.

Nicolas Flamel was practically the destroyer of ancient alchemy. By creating the Philosopher's Stone, he crushed the dreams of every alchemist whose goal was "to forge the Stone." Since someone had already done it, why not just steal it? 

This led to Nicolas Flamel facing frequent attacks after crafting the Stone in 1383. But the assailants always ended up dazed in foreign lands, finding one of their fingers turned to gold.

No one ever succeeded, and eventually, people stopped trying to steal or snatch the Stone from Flamel—leaving him to enjoy centuries of peaceful retirement.

Later, alchemy branched out. Some merged with Potions, others with runes and symbology…

Modern alchemy offered more topics to explore, and Cohen noticed one called "Homunculus" (the "Man in the Bottle").

"Homunculus… why does that sound so familiar?"

The word nagged at Cohen, as if… he'd heard it in his "childhood."

Considering he was the runaway product of some Dark magic lab, it did seem tied to homunculus creation. Had the lab folks muttered the term around baby Cohen?

[**From the moment of its creation, a homunculus possesses a wealth of knowledge. It originates from the material in the vessel yet transcends it, making it the most secretive and complex field in modern alchemy.**

**However, synthesizing life is a forbidden subject, and this book will neither explain nor elaborate on it.**]

"Earl, do I look like an idiot to you?"

Cohen asked stiffly, glancing at the dozing owl.

"That's the second time you've asked me that, so my answer is—what's the point of asking?"

Earl flicked a glance at Cohen, maintaining his somewhat ungraceful side-laying nap pose for a bird.

"Wouldn't Dumbledore realize that ripping out a chapter and scribbling a conclusion himself wouldn't fool me into thinking the book was originally like that?"

Cohen fumed. 

"He could've at least used a printed font to fake it! Put a little effort into tricking me! Everyone in this school knows he's the only one with that skinny, loopy, artsy handwriting!"

The brief homunculus entry in *Alchemy Explained* was written on a nearly blank page in Dumbledore's unmistakable swirling, slender script—practically screaming, *"I don't want you reading this, go study something else."*

"Maybe he's worried you'll go down the wrong path—since you're a naturally evil Dementor brat," Earl mumbled sleepily. "But I agree—he doesn't need to meddle this much… You're already sprinting down that path."

"I just want to figure out what I am…"

Cohen slumped back into the armchair.

"It's like how kids always want to know who their real mom is," Earl summed up. "I don't bother with that. When I hatched, the first thing I saw was a basilisk. Obviously, it wasn't my mom—heck, it probably ate her—but who cares? The one who raises you is the one that matters—"

"Liar!" Cohen snapped in Voldemort's tone. "Last time, you said John brought you to a lighthouse and hatched you in an oven!"

"Did I? Was that the version I told last time?" Earl tilted his head.

This bird was a compulsive liar. Cohen had no intention of trusting him—last time he did and let Earl into the house closet, it ended up stuffed with vole bones.

Now, Cohen had zero expectations for the next book. All of them had been pre-borrowed by Dumbledore, so anything "not for little Cohen" was likely altered.

Dumbledore should've been a censor at the Ministry's broadcast office, not headmaster of Hogwarts.

*The Soul in the Urn*

This book introduced a theory about souls and magic sharing the same source. It devoted pages to detailing every soul-related experiment—somewhat gruesome, but since it was penned by the Ministry's Department of Mysteries, it skimmed over the test subjects and species to maintain an air of official righteousness.

The theory earned Ministry approval and a third-class Order of Merlin for its researchers. Even now, the Department of Mysteries kept "brain tanks" and a "Veil of the Underworld" for soul studies.

Souls and magic from the same root… It did seem to explain Cohen's situation. A stronger soul meant stronger magic.

So, was Edward the bottom-tier benchmark for wizards?

If so, how did he manage silent spells and other advanced stuff? 

Or maybe the connection was relative—stronger souls boosted magic, but weaker souls didn't necessarily lower it…

That made more sense. Voldemort's soul was shattered into chunks at 40% each, yet he could still overpower top-tier wizards. If soul strength and magic synced perfectly, any Hogwarts professor should've crushed him.

"Wait… you're really hung up on finding your origins, huh?"

Earl, roused by Cohen, rolled off his owl perch and asked, "Why not just check out the ruins of that lab?"

"Guess why I haven't gone…" Cohen pouted. "I've torn through years of library newspapers, and the Ministry never reported it."

"And Rose and Edward definitely won't tell me. The professors here? Even less likely—"

"I know," Earl cut in casually.

"?" Cohen stared at him.

"I know what you're thinking—'Why didn't you say so earlier?'" Earl drawled. "Well, let me ask you—did you ever ask me? Who bothers with an owl's opinion, even if it's old enough to be your damn great-grandma…"

(*End of Chapter*)