"What a coward," Cohen remarked. "Were you too scared back then to confess your love because you thought Mom would turn you down?"
"How did you—wait, no, we're talking about Sirius here!" Edward snapped back to reality. "And anyway, at least I've had some success in the love department."
"Why would Sirius break out of prison and come looking for… Ohhh~"
Cohen raised an eyebrow.
Fudge might be worried that this breakout was somehow Cohen's doing—after all, Cohen did have a bit of Dementor in him.
But Fudge was overthinking it this time. If Cohen really wanted to stir up trouble, it wouldn't be something as simple as a prison break.
"Fudge has always been pretty clueless," Edward said. "Instead of figuring out how Sirius actually escaped or coming up with a plan to catch him, he's busy trying to control the narrative…"
"He's too busy looking for scapegoats," Rose scoffed at Fudge's tactics. "The Ministry's locked up a few workers who deliver food to Azkaban. He's trying to pin it on them to shift the public's attention, but no one's buying it."
"If there's a murderer out there, you two better watch out," Rose warned. "Especially since we live right next to 'Harry Potter.' Word is, Sirius broke out to kill Harry."
"My name's Cohen," Cohen pointed out.
"He's lost it," Rose explained. "You can't expect a lunatic to tell the difference between Harry and anyone else. He might think everyone's Harry. Before he got locked up, he went nuts and killed an entire street full of people."
"Fine, I'll keep Cohen safe—" Edward started.
"I'll keep Edward safe," Cohen cut in before Edward could finish. "No crazy murderer's going to get to him…"
"That's my line!" Edward stood up, pulling Cohen off the couch and spinning him around. "Upstairs, shower, get ready for dinner. And no wandering off for the next few days."
"There's no point in wandering anyway. I've got homework," Cohen said.
But in reality, Cohen was planning to practice Apparition—something he'd resolved to master last year but had been putting off until now.
With a herd of unicorns nearby, even if he splinched himself, their healing magic could probably patch him up quick enough. That'd lower the risk of spewing out blood full of liquid curses.
After heading upstairs and showering, Cohen brought his homework into the suitcase.
"Earl~ Earl~" Cohen called out for Earl in the wooden cabin.
"Don't sound so British," Earl grumbled, poking his head out of the study.
"What do you want?"
"Homework." Cohen plopped a stack of textbooks and a pile of blank parchment in front of Earl. "You know what to do…"
"You—" Earl glanced at Sisoko, who was peeking in from outside.
"Fine…" Earl agreed dryly.
"Wow, so enthusiastic! Good bird!" Cohen teased.
Earl shot him a death glare.
"If you don't get something, ask the goat. It's pretty smart," Cohen said. "It just can't write, so…"
"Nah, forget it," Earl shot back instantly. "That dumb lion's tried to pounce on me more than once. I'm not signing up to get mauled."
With the homework sorted, Cohen tracked down the unicorns. Luckily, a few of them weren't drunk yet, so he could practice Apparition under their watch.
The spell wasn't hard, and the three D's—Destination, Determination, Deliberation—were easy enough to grasp. Even Cohen's pessimistic guess about splinching didn't happen. After half an afternoon of trying, he could pretty much Apparate every time. His talent was clearly still kicking in. Most wizards, after just half an afternoon, couldn't even flicker properly—they'd either stumble awkwardly, dragged along by the spell, or somehow end up at their destination without meaning to.
At dinner, Cohen glanced at the calendar and suddenly realized something.
"Wait, today's Harry's birthday?" he recalled.
What kind of chaos was Harry's birthday going to bring this year…
Blowing up his aunt?
"Did you get him a gift?" Edward asked. "After dinner, you could drop it off. He gave you that magical creature first-aid kit for your birthday, didn't he?"
"I don't think werewolf nail polish or Cornish pixie calming bells are all that useful…" Cohen said, covering his face. "Since his gift this year was kind of a bust, I figured I'd get him a Niffler piggy bank."
When a gift's *that* useless, it almost becomes useful in its own way…
The Niffler piggy bank dances when you drop a Galleon in it—pretty cute decoration.
"But I don't think I'll need to head over to the Dursleys' to find him," Cohen said, glancing out the window.
"Why not?" Edward asked, confused. He followed Cohen's gaze. "Merlin's beard, why does that floating woman look so familiar?"
"She's a Dursley relative, right?" Rose frowned, getting up to join them at the window. She leaned out to get a better look at Marge, who was drifting farther away. "I saw her when I got home earlier."
"Harry's not getting out of this one with the Ministry…" Edward said. "A Levitation Charm we could maybe pass off as ours, but inflating his own aunt? There's no way the Ministry's going to think we did that. Attacking a Muggle's a crime."
"The Ministry's too busy protecting him to care," Rose countered. "Look, Arnold's here—he's on duty tonight." She nodded toward the street, where a Memory Obliviator had just Apparated into view.
"That guy's got such a grunt-job vibe…" Cohen said, joining them at the window. Now the whole family was watching the show.
"Sorry, I know he's a friend, but it's too funny—" Edward couldn't hold it in. "The way he's chasing that chubby lady…"
"Money's hard to come by," Cohen said with an old-man sigh. "I don't know what's up with the Ministry, but I do know Harry's getting kicked out tonight."
And sure enough, not long after, a fuming Harry stormed out of the house next door, slamming the door behind him.
"Go get him," Rose said sympathetically, nudging Cohen. "We can't let him sleep on the street. You're his friend—us going might make him feel awkward."
"Sure," Cohen said, stepping away from the window. Harry was lingering on the road near the Nortons' place, dragging his trunk, looking like he was wrestling with himself.
Cohen pushed the front door open and waved Harry over.
Harry took a step closer—then seemed to rethink it, turned on his heel, and marched off in the opposite direction.
???
What? Cohen's gesture was definitely "come here," not "get lost."
"Stop!" Cohen shouted after him.
But Harry sped up, so Cohen took off after him.
Suddenly, it went from "Cohen inviting Harry inside" to "terrifying Dementor chasing a thirteen-year-old wizard."