But the Patronus Charm was still a bit too much for a Dementor—even though Cohen tried his best to recall those pleasant memories, the silvery-white smoke couldn't condense into any shape.
The smoke didn't disappear either, but instead drifted on the ground like normal fog.
Is this what the Patronus Charm looks like? Cohen felt it was more like… the dense fog created by other Dementors during attacks.
Only Cohen's fog was filled with the emotion of "happiness," and he could clearly see the "happiness" sinking and drifting in the air. Cohen
attributed this failure to a physical problem; his spell and emotions were definitely correct, there was no reason for him to miscast it.
Cohen caught a glimpse of Dumbledore's soul outline out of the corner of his eye. The old man had been sitting on the table, but after seeing Cohen cast the spell, he clearly shifted his position and stood up—now he was sitting back down.
It seems that Cohen's unsuccessful Patronus Charm hadn't surprised Dumbledore—but at least Cohen managed to release a little silver mist, indicating that he wasn't completely immersed in dark magic.
Dark magic requires extremely evil emotions to cast, and a wizard immersed in it couldn't possibly summon even a wisp of smoke with the Patronus Charm.
"Cough—" Harry choked on the drifting smoke and quickly got up from the floor. "Where did this smoke come from?"
"I was just trying out a spell, but it seems to have failed," Cohen said. "Last time I saw a spell called the Patronus Charm in a book, which can summon a physical Patronus using happy memories—I just saw that heartwarming scene in the mirror, and I wanted to try using that memory to see if I could use it successfully."
Normally, the smoke from the Patronus Charm shouldn't be choking, but Harry didn't understand that.
"It must be very profound…" Harry looked at the layer of magical mist on the ground, like a thick forest fog, and suddenly thought of something. "These…"
"I'm so sorry, I'm so clumsy, I've made a mess of the room." Cohen scratched his head. "Why don't you go back to the mirror and look? I'll drive the mist away—"
Harry felt that what Cohen had just said was strange.
Then, Cohen pointed his wand at the ground, and all the mist released by his spell retracted back to the tip of his wand.
"Cough—"
An old cough sounded.
Dumbledore shouldn't be choked by his own mist.
So Cohen thought that this could only be because Dumbledore couldn't stay awake and wanted to sleep, so he pretended to be a ghost to scare Harry and Cohen and make the two children go to bed.
"What's that sound!?" Harry exclaimed alertly, and the first thing he did was look around for his Invisibility Cloak that he had dropped on the ground.
If Filch caught them, Gryffindor's house points would be reduced to negative numbers—Gryffindor only had a little over eighty points now.
"Could it be Filch?" Cohen frowned, feigning surprise—he saw Dumbledore already heading towards the door, like a reaper who never looks back at an exploding shell.
"Quick!" Harry flung off the Invisibility Cloak like a blanket, urgently calling for Cohen to come in. "If Filch finds us, we're doomed!"
The two, still in their Invisibility Cloaks, retraced their steps. Cohen noticed Harry's lips moving slightly as he mumbled the route—the poor kid wanted to come back tomorrow night.
Just seeing his parents was a luxury for Harry—even if their images were only in the ethereal mirror.
They encountered Filch on the way, but he didn't have the eyes to see through the Invisibility Cloak, so he could only follow Mrs. Norris (Filch's cat) along their scent trail.
Back in the common room, Harry and Cohen crawled into their respective beds to Ron's snoring.
Harry couldn't sleep, because his mind was still preoccupied with the mirror.
Cohen wasn't asleep either.
Because he'd actually lied; what he saw in the mirror wasn't a loving family at all.
Cohen saw many different scenes in the mirror, playing out at a faster pace like edited movie clips.
He saw himself swallowing all of Voldemort's souls, saw the Ministry of Magic littered with corpses, hordes of dark magic creatures scavenging on the piles, and even his own evil Dementor empire… Anyone watching would
think they were watching a horror movie.
Could he really be a born evil seed? He'd never felt that way before!
Of course, Cohen also saw a scene of himself standing with his adoptive parents—meaning that not all he felt was darkness and depravity.
And while those "deepest desires" seemed bloody and cruel, they weren't entirely bad.
Voldemort definitely had to be killed, which was a good thing.
Some of the corrupt bureaucrats in the Ministry of Magic also had to be killed, which was also a good thing.
The only thing that might not conform to mainstream societal values was the Dementor empire—but that wasn't a bad thing for Cohen.
Thinking about it that way, everything became clear…
Cohen stretched contentedly, changed his position, and went to sleep.
What evil? This was clearly a savior—the savior in the next bed was still a tadpole looking for its mother, while Cohen was already planning a bright future.
The next morning, Cohen groggily got up, but Harry was nowhere to be seen. Cohen suspected he hadn't slept all night again.
Would he die of exhaustion at this rate?
However, Cohen didn't have time to go with Harry to find the mirror today. He needed to seriously study the Patronus Charm and roughly go through the pile of books he'd scavenged from the basement of Burke Manor.
Although last night's Patronus Charm attempt was a complete failure, Cohen had a feeling while casting it—the spell worked normally, it was just… the path was wrong.
It's hard to explain; it's like simultaneously controlling several different professions, but only the mage profession can cast Fireball, so using the warrior profession to cast Fireball will result in an error pop-up…
Harry was nowhere to be seen in the empty common room, but Cohen saw the Earl outside the window.
After opening the window, the Earl flew in, covered in fine snow, scattering icy crystals all over the carpet.
Luckily, it was a house-elf cleaning the common room; if it were Filch, he would probably have yelled at the Earl, "I'm going to kill you!" and then put Cohen in solitary confinement.
"He insisted I deliver the letter for just a few steps, as if he didn't have legs! If it weren't for that stinky face without a nose stuck to the back of his head, I would have shaved all his hair off!"
the Earl said angrily, throwing a letter at Cohen.
It was from Quirrell.
It asked Cohen to come to his office before lunch.
No reason was given, probably because he was afraid Dumbledore would see the letter.
Is it time to begin preparing the plan to steal the Philosopher's Stone?
Cohen felt an irresistible urge to get his hands on it—
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(End of Chapter)