"…"
Cohen glanced at the Dementor, then at Edward, who seemed to have completely frozen up.
"So…" Edward started, hesitating.
"How long did you stand there yelling 'Cohen' at this Dementor?" Cohen sighed. "Let me guess—Mum's not home?"
"Your mum left for the States two days ago," Edward replied. "Some major Muggle deaths in Chicago needed covering. But… what does that have to do with this?"
"If Mum were here, she'd never let you mix me up with a Dementor," Cohen said, setting his trunk by the sofa and flopping down next to Edward. He leaned back, staring at the ceiling. "Guess the spark's faded. If I turned into a Dementor one day and couldn't change back, you wouldn't even know it was me."
The Dementor, floating nearby, mimicked Cohen's pose, drifting to his left and slumping against the sofa. Its faceless, hooded head tilted upward, as if staring at the ceiling too.
"No way I wouldn't know it was you!" Edward said quickly, throwing an arm around Cohen's shoulders. "It's just… this morning, that thing came in, didn't attack me, and headed straight for your room."
It didn't attack?
Cohen turned to the Dementor on his left, then back to Edward on his right.
Maybe it's because of the Dementor acting as a "Horcrux"?
[You know this guy?] Cohen asked the Dementor.
[Like you… but not you…] The Dementor seemed to mean Edward resembled Cohen in some way.
Probably because Edward's got a Dementor as his "Horcrux" too, Cohen thought. That's not a bad thing—keeps him safe from other Dementors accidentally hurting him. With their current level of understanding, stopping them from harming specific people, especially after leaving Azkaban, would be a nightmare…
Wait—hold on.
"Why's a Dementor from Azkaban here?" Cohen asked Edward sharply. "Is the Ministry up to something big?"
"No clue," Edward said. "I was just about to write to Tonks and ask. It came looking for you, didn't it? Anyway, eaten yet? I'll whip something up."
"Nope," Cohen said, shaking his head. "Whole fried chicken. Extra cumin."
[Hungry?] the Dementor asked. [I brought food—]
It started tugging Cohen toward the stairs.
[You didn't bring a prisoner along, did you?] Cohen groaned, rubbing his forehead. [Forget scavenging scraps. Tonight, I'll take you for something good.]
The Dementor's thoughts radiated confusion.
[Wizards will try to stop us…]
[You eat, I'll handle the rest,] Cohen said, waving a hand. [With me around, no one will spot you.]
The Dementor got excited, doing a little flip in the air.
[Why'd you leave Azkaban all of a sudden?] Cohen cut in. [Did all of you break out?]
[We all left…] The Dementor sent him a memory.
In it, Voldemort and a few Death Eaters showed up at Azkaban, luring the Dementors away with promises of better food and a wizard organization that Cohen was supposedly tied to. The Dementors, unable to resist, followed Voldemort without a second thought.
This one had been sent to deliver the news to Cohen.
[…]
Cohen didn't know how to unpack this.
Voldemort was getting a bit too comfortable crossing lines. Still, getting the Dementors out was part of Cohen's long-term plan anyway. Letting them tag along with Voldemort for now wasn't the worst idea. If it came down to it, Cohen's word would always outweigh Voldemort's with the Dementors. One line like, "Oh, these are backup snacks I prepped for you," and they'd ditch Voldemort in a heartbeat. The look on his face would be priceless.
The Dementor Empire didn't need Death Eaters or Voldemort, just like Voldemort's grand vision didn't include an uncontrollable wildcard like Cohen.
[Did anyone spot you on the way here?] Cohen asked, a new worry popping up.
If a Dementor showed up on Privet Drive and the Ministry caught wind, Fudge—already losing his grip—might pin everything on Cohen. He'd have to prep for the Dementor Empire's first big move sooner than planned.
The Dementor shared another memory: it arriving on Privet Drive one evening. Two people were walking down the street—one tall, one short. One had a dim soul, like a Muggle's; the other had two bright, intertwined souls.
Cohen knew instantly: Harry and Dudley.
[You went for them, didn't you?] Cohen said, already knowing the answer.
Harry knew the Patronus Charm. No way the Dementor got close.
The Dementor nodded and sent another memory. Harry's stag Patronus had blasted it away. Spooked, the Dementor hid for two days until Harry left Privet Drive before coming to find Cohen.
Since Cohen wasn't around, and the Fidelius Charm kept Harry from reaching Edward to warn him, the misunderstanding lingered.
The Ministry might pin this "Patronus Charm" incident on Harry, especially with Fudge itching to silence his "He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is back" claims. The Trace on underage wizards only picks up magic in a broad area, not who cast it. If Fudge wanted to make trouble, he could, but it'd be a flimsy case.
"Chicken's ready!" Edward called from the kitchen.
"Dobby's got the young master's fried chicken!" Dobby squeaked, thrilled to be back in action.
Just then, a snowy white owl swooped through the window, a letter tied to its leg.
Letters for Cohen could still reach here—the Fidelius Charm protected Edward and Rose, not Cohen, the Secret-Keeper.
[Greece, or Number Five Privet Drive, To Cohen]
[Cohen, if you're back from your travels, can you swing by Number Twelve Grimmauld Place? Got something important to share.
Harry.]