To counter Voldemort's inexplicable and blatant framing plan, Cohen decided to use the reward he received last year:
the Death Stalker Cloak .
[Description: Turns hills and valleys into doors leading to the endless screams.]
[Passive - Shadow Itself: When you devour a creature's soul, you and your belongings gain invisibility for 20 minutes.]
An invisible Dementor!
Cohen only needed to keep a few small animals in his pocket to become invisible anytime, anywhere—since normal Dementors wouldn't bother with small animals, the little Dementor Mick in his pocket probably wouldn't try to steal them from him.
Cohen used Polymorph to disguise the cloak as a school uniform cloak, making it easy to disappear at any time.
For the next few days, Cohen kept a close eye on Lockhart—waiting for him to make a move so he could cause trouble.
But Lockhart remained silent for some reason; he hadn't even been to Myrtle's bathroom.
On Wednesday, Cohen and his classmates had their first Defense Against the Dark Arts class of the semester.
As usual, Lockhart handed out a quiz on Gilderoy Lockhart at the start of class, and Cohen, Harry, and Ron all turned in blank papers.
"I'd rather die than read his rubbish book," Ron said viciously.
"Tsk tsk tsk...almost no one remembers that my favorite color is lilac, which I mentioned in *A Year with the Yeti*..." Lockhart listed the mistakes on their scribbled papers. "A few of you need to work on your studies. In Chapter Twelve of *Wandering with the Werewolves*, I clearly wrote that my ideal birthday present is for all people, whether they have magic or not, to live in harmony..."
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"Who cares what he did with the werewolf!" Harry growled, having only flipped through a few pages of Lockhart's book.
"The book says the werewolf is a woman," Cohen said. "But I guess he wrote that for dramatic effect. A werewolf can't be cured by a spell. If he were, the werewolf woman would definitely be happy to offer herself to him—that's exactly what Lockhart wants readers to imagine."
"?" Ron looked at Cohen in disbelief. "You really read it?!"
"I already paid for it…" Cohen said helplessly. "It's just a novel. Putting aside the facts, it's actually not bad…"
"Quiet!" Lockhart warned Cohen and his group at their table. "Next, I'm going to teach you how to resist the most evil thing known in the wizarding world!"
"But remember, as long as I'm here, you won't be harmed—I only ask that you remain calm."
Really?
Cohen didn't believe Lockhart at all. If he had the ability, he should release a physical Patronus. Otherwise, he couldn't even resist Cohen.
[Soul Strength: 14]
Ugly. Sit at Edward's table.
Lockhart pulled a large, cloth-covered cage from behind the podium, from which came a loud commotion, like a bunch of parrots arguing.
"I must ask you not to scream!" Lockhart said in a low voice, "That will provoke them!"
Dramatically, most of the students stared intently at the cloth-covered cage.
Lockhart lifted the cover.
Inside were a large group of bluish-gray elves, each about eight inches tall with small wings.
But the previously noisy elves fell silent the moment the cover was lifted—they saw Cohen—but thankfully, the students didn't notice the reason for the elves' unusual behavior; they assumed it was just how elves were.
"Not bad," he said theatrically, "Just caught—"
Lockhart's words trailed off. Why were the elves suddenly acting like they were paralyzed with fear?
Seamus chuckled, and the laughter seemed to trigger a chain reaction, instantly filling the entire classroom with a cheerful atmosphere.
"Don't be so sure of appearances!" Lockhart snapped. "They could be as cunning little devils as imps!"
Lockhart drew his wand and whispered a spell at the cage—Cohen noticed the spell worked; the house-elves, which had huddled together in fear, began to stir.
Cohen guessed it was the Madness Charm, a spell that appeared in Quirrell's introductory book to Dark Magic.
It seemed Voldemort had indeed taught Lockhart some spells.
"Very well," Lockhart called out, "let's see how you deal with them!"
Then he opened the cage door—a somewhat hasty move, as Voldemort hadn't taught him many more spells—
the house-elves affected by the Madness Charm were far more dangerous than in their normal forms.
They darted about like bullets, wreaking havoc in the classroom, tearing pages, smashing ink bottles against the floor and walls, and some even trying to bite students in the face.
"Professor!" Hermione called out sharply, her brow furrowed—she had just used a freezing charm to stop an elf that was trying to bite off Neville's ear. It
was too dangerous; chaos reigned, and the young wizards' minds were a complete blank in the emergency, unable to recall any spells.
The brighter students had already abandoned packing their bags and rushed to the door, while the less bright or kinder students remained.
Even under the influence of the Madness Charm, the elves dared not approach Cohen—several "elf predecessors" who had come close had already lost their souls and fallen to the ground.
"Watch my demonstration!" Lockhart confidently rolled up his sleeves and waved his wand at the scattered, frenzied elves.
"Peschich Pixie Pestnomi!"
After Lockhart's useless incantation, an elf snatched the wand from his hand and threw it out the window.
"Ha—" Lockhart exclaimed, his gaze falling on the students who hadn't left yet. "Could you please catch the rest of these elves and put them back in their cages?"
Lockhart dashed out of the classroom like a whirlwind, closing the door behind him.
Cohen understood why Voldemort only taught the Madness Curse and not its Counterspells or other spells—he needed Lockhart to constantly be at his beck and call, so that Lockhart would remain obedient.
"Help!" Neville cowered under the desk, dodging the attacks of the crazed elves—they seemed to have chosen Neville as their easy target, because Ron and Harry would swat them away with thick books, and Hermione would freeze them with spells; none of them were easy to deal with.
Amidst the chaos, Cohen heard a familiar but inappropriate voice.
[Where…where…find him…]
The Basilisk's voice!
Cohen immediately turned to look at the source of the voice, which was coming from the wall at the back of the classroom.
[Soul Strength: 40]
Wait…
Cohen turned to look at the spot where Lockhart had left. Lockhart's soul was displayed on the other side, completely opposite to the basilisk's position—that doesn't make sense. Less than ten seconds had passed since Lockhart left, and the area outside was full of fleeing students; he couldn't have had time to summon the basilisk.
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(End of Chapter)