"Only you guys could understand what the lion's roaring about." ("Rooaar…" the lion grumbled in frustration.)
Cohen said, "But wasn't I the first thing it saw when it was born?"
"Magical creatures can usually recognize their kin or close bonds with ease," the goat replied. "Just like how the unicorns react to you—or even us, for that matter. It probably smelled a familiar scent and wanted to bring you back. It makes sense. But what I don't get is… why didn't it bring its mother?"
"Because its mom was chained up," Cohen said, rubbing his forehead. "The portal just so happened to cut through the chain… and I think it didn't realize that at the time. It probably just figured there was endless food over here."
As if to confirm what Cohen said, the old dragon crawled out of the cave, headed straight for the goat pen, grabbed four or five goats, then lumbered back to the cave—pausing only to give Cohen a little nod, like it was casually saying hello.
"What the hell? Why is it acting like it's lived here forever?!" Cohen's eyes widened. "It wasn't acting like this yesterday!"
[We gave it a bit of guidance.] The long-horned water serpent chimed in. [It now recognizes all the animals here—including you.]
"Xisoko and Ari helped a lot too," the goat added humbly. "Even the old serpent came out of hiding for the first time in forever and got spooked by the new face."
"It's still alive?" Cohen asked in surprise. "I thought it'd… y'know, passed after that… incident."
"Huh?" The goat tilted its head in confusion.
"Old creature like that, still kicking. Impressive." Cohen tactfully avoided mentioning the part about the snake venting its year-long frustration. "Must be in excellent shape."
Snore… Norbert lay on his back, snoring loudly and shifting around restlessly.
"Make it some stones to build a new lair with," Cohen muttered. "I feel like I'm being totally freeloaded off of. Makes me uncomfortable… so I'm not letting it get too comfy."
"I know this one," said the goat with a thoughtful nod. "Humans call this emotion *jealousy.*"
"I'm not jealous of a dragon living more comfortably than me," Cohen said stubbornly, lying through his teeth.
These days, Cohen had left most of the tasks inside the suitcase to the goat, even including the corpse-led construction projects.
The goat didn't mind at all—building a castle was a fun way to pass the time. All Cohen had to do was occasionally borrow a rare tome or two from the Hogwarts library as compensation.
As November rolled around, the pressure started ramping up.
Take Hagrid's Blast-Ended Skrewt lessons, for instance—they were now expected to help the pregnant Skrewts stay emotionally stable.
This was a huge challenge for Cohen. These Skrewts had become hyper-sensitive during pregnancy and would immediately shoot fire and bolt away whenever Cohen got within three meters of them—even if it meant crashing headfirst into a wall or fence.
Cohen's emotional drain range was only two meters, meaning the Skrewts had perfectly figured out how to avoid him—by hurting themselves before he could hurt them.
This had Hagrid so worried he pulled Cohen aside and asked him to observe from a distance instead.
"Then why not just let me have some free time?" Cohen shouted from a distance.
Hagrid waved vaguely at him—whether it meant "No" or "Go ahead," Cohen wasn't sure. But since there was no clarification, Cohen just took it as permission to roam free.
And so, for several weeks, Cohen got a free pass from attending Care of Magical Creatures—no detentions, no house points docked.
Naturally, this made him the target of much curiosity. Students kept pestering him for ways to make the Skrewts flee too.
One Thursday during Transfiguration, Lavender Brown picked the seat nearest to Cohen and whispered if it was some sort of special cologne that repelled Skrewts.
"I don't wear cologne," Cohen replied. Saying he did would imply he had body odor. Sure, most white people had some—but his wasn't nearly as strong as Edward's.
Maybe it had to do with him technically being a "corpse." The fact that he didn't smell like one was already impressive enough.
"Focus, Miss Brown! You're about to strangle your guinea fowl!" Professor McGonagall scolded sternly.
"Oh! Sorry, Professor!" Lavender gasped, quickly letting go and trying again to transfigure it into a guinea pig.
The lesson wasn't hard—transfiguring non-magical animals into other non-magical animals was much easier than turning fire lizards into ice bats.
But the real challenge came near the end of class.
"I have something to announce," Professor McGonagall said as she gathered the guinea pigs into a cage. "The Yule Ball is coming up. It's a tradition of the Triwizard Tournament and a great opportunity to socialize with our foreign guests."
"The ball is open to fourth years and above. Of course, if you wish, you may invite a younger student."
Several students snickered at this—like inviting someone younger was somehow laughable.
"You will need to wear your dress robes. The ball starts at eight o'clock on Christmas evening," McGonagall reminded them. "Though the ball is meant to be a fun and relaxing event, if any Gryffindor students embarrass this school in any way… I will be very disappointed."
Then, once most students had left, she pulled aside Cohen and Harry.
"Champions must have dance partners, Norton and Potter," she said. "You two will be opening the ball with a dance alongside your dates."
"W-what?" Harry turned bright red. "I don't dance—"
"You must dance. Both of you," McGonagall said firmly. "It's tradition. The champions open the first dance."
"I really can't—"
"You heard me," she said in a tone that brooked no argument. "And Mr. Norton—?"
"I already have someone in mind." Cohen nodded confidently—causing Harry's jaw to drop.
"What?!" Harry gaped. "When did you get a date? You're actually going to dance?! Who is it?!"
"It's just a dance, not a date," Cohen raised an eyebrow. "Don't freak out… Besides, I bet none of the couples who dance together will end up staying together in the end."
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