"Percy's completely cut ties with the family," Ron explained to Cohen. "He thinks if Mum and Dad are betraying the Ministry, he needs to make it crystal clear to everyone that he's no longer part of our family… Mum's been crying her eyes out. She went to London to talk to him, but Percy slammed the door in her face…"
"I can't even imagine what would happen if I slammed the door on my mum and refused to talk," Cohen said, clicking his tongue.
"He's an idiot," Ron said, clearly upset. "He takes the Daily Prophet seriously and thinks we're all fools who've been duped by Dumbledore and Harry. We don't even mention him in front of everyone anymore."
Ron grabbed a piece of bread, slathered it with scrambled egg, and bit into it as if it were Percy himself.
When the drinks arrived, Cohen started experimenting with mixing them.
It was hard to say if the result was good or bad. Cohen thought adding five sugar cubes didn't make it taste that weird, but Harry, Ron, and Hermione all refused to touch the thick, dark brown liquid.
"Should've used black tea," Cohen said regretfully. "It's a bit bitter."
"No tea could save that," Harry said, edging away in mock fear, as if Cohen might try to force the concoction down his throat.
Soon after, Sirius came downstairs for breakfast, sporting dark circles under his eyes, looking like he hadn't slept a wink.
"Morning," Sirius said through a yawn. When he reached the table, he noticed the extra person. "Cohen? When did you get here? Harry and the others were planning to pick you up today—ugh, I'm knackered. I need a nap…"
"What were you up to last night?" Cohen asked curiously. "You look like you've been… overindulging."
"Overindulging, my foot," Sirius shot back weakly. "I went to Azkaban. I'm the only one around here who knows that place inside out…"
"Because the Dementors switched sides?" Cohen asked.
"How do you lot already know?" Sirius said, eyes wide. "I was going to bring it up at the meeting today—"
"A Dementor told me," Cohen said. "One showed up at my place."
"Should've sent you instead," Sirius said mournfully. "I'm better at fighting than traipsing off to a prison to check if the guards are still there—guards who, by the way, are my old 'pals'…"
"Wait… if all the Dementors are gone…" Harry suddenly realized something serious.
"Exactly. The Death Eaters have all escaped," Sirius said. "The Ministry's trying to keep it hush-hush. They've even got Arthur under close watch, or we'd have heard sooner. They're desperate to cover it up, but you can't hide something like this. The wizarding world's going to lose it in a few days."
"What else is on the agenda for tonight's meeting?" Harry asked eagerly.
"Probably a rundown on other groups that sided with Voldemort before," Sirius said carefully. "If I say more, Molly'll come yank my ear off—speaking of, where is she?"
"In the kitchen," Ron said. "Because of Percy."
"Poor kid. He's been totally bamboozled by the Ministry," Sirius said with a sigh. "Just like my brother… But I believe he'll come around, like Regulus did." He added, "So, what's the plan for today? You're not still cleaning this place, are you? I mean, once you get rid of the pests, there's no point. The shadows and grime are practically part of the house now."
"Wanna wander around London?" Cohen suggested.
"I can't go out," Harry said glumly. "Everyone's forbidden me from leaving because Voldemort might be looking for me."
"I could hide you in my suitcase. No one would know," Cohen offered.
"Oi, I'm right here, your godfather," Sirius interjected. "Forget going out. I don't want to wake up to news of Harry being snatched by Voldemort. You lot can play Quidditch—there's a big empty patch in the backyard. Don't worry, Muggles can't see it."
"Or you could check out the golden ram I brought back from Greece," Cohen suggested. "And the manticore, kneazle, and two-headed lynx…"
"Did you nick every animal in Greece?" Harry asked, stunned.
"They wanted to come with me," Cohen said, waving it off. "Shame, though—I didn't see the Hydra. Apparently, it only shows up on rainy days at sea. Hagrid was hoping I'd bring one back."
"In the Hogwarts lake? Dumbledore would have your heads," Sirius said with a snort. "He's got enough on his plate. But he's coming tonight, so you can ask him yourself."
After breakfast, Sirius trudged back upstairs to sleep. Harry and Ron were keen on the Quidditch idea, while Cohen opted to watch—he preferred flying without a broom.
Hermione, as usual, found a spot in the backyard to read, hoping to lure the others into studying, but it didn't work.
That afternoon, curiosity about the golden ram got the better of them, and Cohen led them to his suitcase to take a look.
At first, they were nearly scared off by a gaggle of rowdy dragon hatchlings near the dragon dens.
Unlike Norbert, these hatchlings hadn't been tamed by a cushy life of food and shelter. They looked downright ferocious.
Cohen had to keep the three golden rams locked in a castle to save their lives—otherwise, they'd have been dragon dung by morning.
"Are these really magical creatures?" Harry asked, puzzled, after touching one of the rams.
Aside from their golden wool, they seemed like ordinary sheep.
"They're lucky," Cohen said.
"Baa—" the ram Harry was petting let out a long bleat.
"I read about them," Hermione said, circling one of the rams with interest. "They bring extraordinary luck. The tuft of wool on their heads is a key ingredient in Felix Felicis, and their blood is a powerful antidote. Greece must have strict controls on them… How did you get so many, Cohen?"
"The baby basilisk caught them," Cohen said. "It said it couldn't resist taking a bite—found them tasty."
He pointed to snakebite marks on one ram's backside.
"Hermione, can you brew Felix Felicis?"