Harry gleefully spilled every detail about last Christmas's Yule Ball fiasco—how Cohen had used magical creatures to disguise three "girls" as dance partners for the three single lads.
Ron's face grew more and more like a shriveled bitter melon. The more he recalled that quiet, odd girl from the ball and her strange behavior, the more Harry's "truth" seemed plausible.
Now it was just Hermione losing it with laughter.
"Pfft—oh no… I can't—hahahahaha!" Hermione doubled over, barely able to stand after hearing the whole story.
"Yeah, yeah," Ron said dryly. "Cohen's dad didn't have hands as 'strong and powerful' as Vicky's."
That shut Hermione's laughter right up.
"Now it's my turn to laugh," Cohen said, sounding like he was stealing the spotlight.
"Dancing with a unicorn wasn't exactly a step up!" the three of them said in unison.
Cohen pursed his lips.
The idea that misery loves company was a complete lie. Now nobody was happy.
"Pfft, pfft—"
A weird, mouth-made "pfft" sound came from outside the bedroom door, like some kind of secret signal.
Ron opened the door to find Fred and George, looking all sneaky and mysterious.
"What're you lot hiding in here for? There's a meeting going on downstairs!" Fred whispered urgently. "Wanna listen in?"
He waved a pair of Extendable Ears.
"We've tweaked their polarization. Mum'll never spot them now," he added.
Behind them was Ginny, who seemed just as curious about the Order of the Phoenix meeting. She wasn't as shy around Harry anymore—unlike before, when her crush on him made her avoid him like the plague.
"Hi, Harry! Hi, Cohen!" Ginny said cheerfully, waving.
Harry and Cohen smiled back, but Fred's news was clearly more pressing.
"Dumbledore's here?" Harry asked, jumping to his feet.
"Just arrived. The meeting started as soon as he showed up," George said.
They all crept to the staircase, where Fred dangled the Extendable Ear down like he was fishing, positioning its tip near the living room door.
"Zzzzt—"
A sharp burst of static screeched from the ear in front of them.
"Damn it, must be a Jinx," Fred muttered, yanking the Extendable Ear back up—but it was too late.
Crack!
A grizzled man with a wooden leg appeared behind them, looking positively menacing.
"Lucky I'm old now, or I'd have hexed this place first thing," Mad-Eye Moody growled, grabbing Fred and George by their collars. "What did your dad tell you?"
Fred and George deflated instantly. They might joke around with others, but nobody messed about with Moody.
"Don't interfere with Order meetings or operations…" they mumbled.
"Back to your rooms. Meeting's almost done," Moody said, his magical blue eye spinning wildly in its socket before locking onto Cohen. "How was Greece, kid?"
"Not bad," Cohen replied.
"Heard the Greek Ministry's in a right mess," Moody said, clapping Cohen on the back. "Lost a few golden sheep, too."
"It wasn't Cohen—" Harry blurted out.
"You've got to kick that habit," Cohen said, facepalming. "You'll never make it as an Auror like that…"
"He's right, Potter," Moody said with a grin. "Golden fleece is useful stuff. Don't worry, we've got your back. The Greeks won't trace it. If we need some wool, we might buy a bit off you."
That last bit was whispered just to Cohen.
"Deal," Cohen said generously.
Moody stumped back downstairs, and the group exchanged looks. Fred and George sighed, disappointed.
Cohen could've helped them eavesdrop, but with Harry possibly being Voldemort's other spy, it was better not to stir up trouble.
One double agent was enough.
As Moody predicted, the meeting wrapped up quickly. The living room door swung open, and several figures hurried out. Mrs. Weasley was trying to convince the stragglers to stay for dinner.
"Dumbledore, won't you stay for supper?" she asked.
"No, Molly, sorry. I've got to head to France," Dumbledore declined politely. "I'm worried Hagrid might need help."
"Alright, I won't keep you," Molly said quickly. "What about you, Snape?"
"I don't make a habit of dining in houses with dogs," Snape said icily. "They're always so… noisy."
"What's that supposed to mean, Snivellus?!" Sirius charged forward, bristling.
Snape didn't say a word, but his look screamed, See? Exactly like that.
"That's some top-tier shade. I need to take notes," Cohen said, leaning on the banister, enjoying the drama.
"Dumbledore's gone…" Harry said, disappointed. "I wanted to ask him about Voldemort."
"He's off to France, Harry," Hermione said gently. "You can ask him next time…"
In the end, only Kingsley stayed for dinner—a tall, bald Black wizard who couldn't dodge Molly's insistence. He also seemed to have something to say to Cohen, pausing when he spotted him on the staircase before agreeing to stay.
Sure enough, after dinner, Kingsley pulled Cohen into the kitchen for a private word.
"I meant to tell your dad, but Dumbledore said the Nortons aren't joining this round of Order business, so I never got the chance," Kingsley said in his steady voice. "Sirius mentioned you know about the Dementor breakout."
"Yeah," Cohen nodded. "What's up?"
"Fudge is trying to pin the Dementors' defection and the Death Eater escapes on you," Kingsley said. "They're rounding up stray Dementors and herding them near you to make it look like you're behind it all. But don't do anything rash."
Kingsley caught the glint in Cohen's eye and quickly added, "Dumbledore figured you might be tempted to act, so he's keeping a close eye on this."
"What's the plan?" Cohen asked.
"Fudge's influence at the Ministry is crumbling. Once the Azkaban mess can't be covered up anymore, his reputation will collapse," Kingsley said. "No need to play into their desperate scheme out of anger. Dumbledore wants you to stay here for now. Let Fudge and his lot buzz around like headless flies. One, we wait for the Azkaban news to break. Two, we wait for the next Ministerial election."
"Isn't the next election in 1996?" Cohen asked.
"Under special circumstances, the Minister's term can shift earlier or later," Kingsley explained. "Barty Crouch Sr. is already laying groundwork. I've been keeping tabs on him."
"According to his team's projections, Barty could take office as early as December this year or January next year."
That soon?
Cohen frowned.
He'd been planning to "accidentally" blow up the Ministry during a clash with the Death Eaters at the end of the school year. If Barty took over, he might not have such a noble excuse anymore…