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Chapter 425 - Chapter 424: Helping You Smash Their Wedding Car Axle

Cohen also asked Ginny a few questions about how she'd gotten involved with this pen pal. According to Ginny, the first letter from this suspected Death Eater, Carlton, was a mistake, sent to the Burrow where Ginny was staying at the time.

"Sounds just like someone trying to peddle health supplements on a whim," Cohen remarked.

"We were all about to move to Grimmauld Place anyway, so I thought I'd just keep this person as a pen pal to alleviate boredom," Ginny explained. "You're sure you won't tell Ron, right?"

"Nope," Cohen replied. "I just want a pen pal too, preferably with a dark and twisted background, to boost my dad's performance record." Online socializing was something Cohen only needed one person for; it was too deep, Ron couldn't handle it.

"Mr. Notton's performance record?" Ginny looked a bit confused. "Is your dad in the Ministry of Magic too?"

"He will be soon," Cohen said. "Better safe than sorry."

"Cohen, what are you doing over here? Our classroom is on the other side—Ginny?" Harry rounded the corner of the corridor, looking a bit surprised to see Cohen and Ginny.

"I have to rush to Professor Flitwick's class too," Ginny waved to Cohen. "Good luck!" With that, Ginny dashed away like a streak.

"What were you doing with Ginny?" Harry eyed Cohen suspiciously. "Snape's class is about to start—aren't you afraid Snape will give us detention for being late?"

"Just chatting about pen pals," Cohen said. "Can't say much more, especially not to Ron."

"Ginny's dating someone?!" Harry's eyes widened.

"Why are you so excited?" Cohen raised an eyebrow. "It's not about dating, and don't ask any more questions—because I know if I tell you, you'll definitely tell Ron."

"Fine..." Harry said dejectedly.

The two caught up with Ron and Hermione, who were already nearing the Potions classroom. Ron seemed to be loudly debating something with Hermione.

"You're being so insensitive!" Hermione exclaimed.

"What? I only asked her if she—" Ron looked bewildered.

"She was looking for Harry, didn't you notice? She wanted to wait for Harry to come back and talk to him alone," Hermione explained.

"What about? Who wanted to talk to me alone?" Harry looked utterly clueless.

"You explain it to him," Hermione snapped at Ron.

"Cho Chang was looking for you earlier," Ron said. "But then she just ran off for some reason—"

"'For some reason'," Hermione mimicked sharply. "Why did you have to interrogate her about her favorite Quidditch team?"

"Asking about Quidditch has nothing to do with her looking for Harry, does it?" Ron said. "I just—"

"Who cares if she supports the Tornados?" Hermione cut in.

"Oh, come on, over half the people wearing Tornados badges now only bought them last season because the Tornados won the Club Confederation Cup for the first time last year. If she said she'd supported them since she was little, it must be a lie. Why else would she react like that?" Ron argued logically. "These people aren't real old fans; they're just bandwagons..."

"You—I—You—sigh..."

Hermione's clenched fist tightened and loosened, finally letting out a helpless sigh.

"I get it," Harry said wearily. Ron had unceremoniously chased Cho Chang away, and it seemed Cho Chang had something important to tell him...

"She's Cedric's girlfriend, you know," Cohen stated. "But if you really want to go for it, I could always help you... take care of Cedric..." Cohen then made a slicing motion across his throat.

"Or I could help you smash their wedding car axle, I've got a few spells for that—"

"Don't—Cohen, don't be like a terrorist..." Harry quickly said. "I know."

Once they entered the classroom, Snape hadn't appeared yet. Hermione and Ron seemed to be giving each other the cold shoulder, both finding the other utterly unreasonable. So, Hermione sat next to Harry, and Ron sat next to Cohen.

"Cho Chang didn't have something really important to tell Harry, did she?" Ron suddenly whispered to Cohen. "I mean, like, maybe she had some information about You-Know-Who..."

"No, Hermione just thought you were messing up Harry's chances," Cohen said. "But I bet she probably just wanted to ask Harry if the news about Voldemort's return was true or not."

"Then why was Hermione so upset?" Ron said, relieved. "She made it sound like I'd ruined something else."

In Potions class, Snape had them brew a relatively difficult Calming Draught, which put a great deal of pressure on many students. The brewing process for a Calming Draught is very strict, requiring ingredients to be added to the cauldron in a precise order and quantity, with fixed stirring times and flame temperatures.

The margin for error was very low, leading to most clumsy students receiving Snape's merciless mockery and double deductions. This wasn't too difficult for Cohen; his potion was already "emitting a faint, silvery vapor" as Snape had required.

Ron, however, had clearly messed up many steps; his cauldron was sputtering green sparks. More dangerously, Snape was already heading over to scold the Gryffindor students.

"Add half a spoon of Flobberworm Mucus," Cohen whispered.

"Huh?" Ron asked, confused. "It's not in the instructions—"

"It neutralizes the Hellebore Syrup; you put too much in," Cohen explained.

"Oh, oh, oh—" Ron quickly found a bottle of pale blue liquid from the ingredient shelf and dripped a few drops into his cauldron. His potion slowly began to change color, from green to white.

"Ten points from Gryffindor," Snape said.

"Why?!" Ron's eyes widened. "My potion is the way you wanted it!"

"I never said you could help each other," Snape said. "Sit down. Any more shouting in class, and Gryffindor will lose fifty points."

"I'll never get used to him," Ron muttered to Cohen when Snape went to chastise Harry for brewing a pot of rubbish. "The Slytherins are practically having a tea party over there—'no helping each other'..."

"Homework: a twelve-inch parchment essay on the properties of moonstone and its uses in potion-making, due Thursday," Snape announced as class ended. "And, bottle your potion samples, label them with your names, and bring them to my desk for inspection."

"Twelve inches long!" Ron's frustration fully erupted after leaving the Potions classroom. "Does everything he taught us in this class combined even add up to twelve inches?!"

"Ha, even if I handed it in, I'd still get a zero this time," Harry said glumly. "He made my entire potion vanish—I have nothing to hand in."

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