After Nicolas attempted several different resurrection methods, Cohen finally decided it was time for one of them to "work."
"His hand moved!"
Edward's voice exploded with excitement.
"Look! Cohen's hand moved!"
Following the sacred traditions of dramatic television resurrections, Cohen started with his fingers first. Then he slowly opened his eyes and blinked several times weakly.
"Hiss—"
He inhaled sharply, looking exactly like someone whose soul had only just returned to their body.
Cohen was extremely satisfied with his performance.
No suspicion appeared anywhere around him.
Then suddenly—
An overwhelming wave of happiness rushed toward him.
"Cohen!"
Rose practically threw herself onto the bed and wrapped him in a suffocating embrace, clutching him so tightly it felt like she feared he might disappear again at any moment.
"Mom—you're strangling me..." Cohen croaked painfully.
"Oh!"
Rose immediately loosened her grip and rubbed his neck anxiously.
Compared to her, Edward appeared far calmer.
Only his trembling fists gave him away.
"Thank you," Edward said hoarsely while turning toward Nicolas Flamel. "Thank you so much... I don't even know what we would've done without you..."
"Ah..." Nicolas looked between Edward and Cohen awkwardly. "Actually, I didn't really do very much. The child mostly came back on his own."
"I'm simply relieved by the outcome," Dumbledore said quietly.
The crushing weight on his conscience had finally eased now that Cohen was alive again.
Perhaps later he would ask Nicolas which spell succeeded. But for now, it was more important to let the child who had technically met death reunite with his family.
"I think we should give them some space," Dumbledore suggested gently.
"Of course, of course."
Although Nicolas clearly wanted to stare at Cohen for another ten hours straight, he was not an impatient man.
"Perhaps I could speak with Cohen privately later? I'm extremely curious about certain aspects of his condition. No successful Man in the Bottle subject has ever survived this long before."
Edward and Rose naturally had no objections.
Meanwhile, Cohen was equally happy to speak with a six-hundred-year-old legendary alchemist. Considering he had just swallowed the man's Philosopher's Stone, the least he could do was entertain one conversation.
Dumbledore and Nicolas temporarily left the ward.
Outside, they happened to encounter Harry.
The moment Harry opened the door and saw Cohen sitting alive on the bed, relief flooded his face so strongly it almost made him collapse.
After enduring enough parental affection to nearly drown in it, Cohen finally had to face a much more troublesome topic.
The truth.
"Cohen..." Edward began awkwardly. "Your mother and I think we need to explain something to you."
Edward exchanged glances with Rose.
Usually, Edward handled games and companionship while Rose managed discipline and daily care. So naturally, Edward became the one responsible for explaining the horrifying biological truth to their resurrected son.
"It's about your origins," Edward said carefully. "You heard some of it earlier, right? About you being... well..."
"A hybrid of several magical creatures?" Cohen nodded casually. "Yeah, I heard that part. Otherwise I wouldn't have touched your shoulders earlier."
Edward froze.
"Wait... you already knew?"
"I've suspected I was different ever since I was little," Cohen admitted honestly. "After coming to Hogwarts, I started researching things connected to myself. Especially after Professor Quirrell threatened me during the Philosopher's Stone incident. He called me some kind of dark magic experiment."
"Don't listen to that bastard!" Rose immediately sat beside him and pulled him into another fierce hug. "You're our child. You always will be. You are not some experiment!"
"I'm eleven, Mum, not one," Cohen said helplessly.
Then his tone softened slightly.
"But I love you both. So I needed to figure out what I am before I accidentally hurt you."
Edward and Rose both stiffened slightly.
"I've already investigated most of what happened at Burke Manor," Cohen continued calmly. "Including the fact that I inherited certain Dementor characteristics."
Edward hesitated briefly before asking the question truly bothering him.
"Are you scared?"
"Huh?"
Cohen pointed at himself blankly.
"What exactly am I supposed to be scared of?"
"Being different," Edward answered carefully.
The concern in his eyes was obvious. He feared Cohen might eventually develop self-hatred or psychological problems because of his nature.
"I'm not afraid," Cohen replied truthfully. "I just treat it like having unusual magic."
After all, he looked human. He could live among humans normally. Wasting time on existential panic felt pointless.
Edward visibly relaxed.
"That's good... I was worried you might start having some unhealthy thoughts."
Rose instantly shot him a terrifying glare before he could finish the sentence.
"Some strange ideas," Edward corrected himself quickly.
"Don't worry," Cohen reassured them. "I'm mentally healthy. Before Quirrell attacked me, Hagrid and I had already started a large magical creature breeding project."
He conveniently omitted the words illegal dragons and nightmare-class dark creatures.
"I'm also friends with several unicorns now. They visit Hagrid regularly for food."
The comfort worked surprisingly well.
Edward and Rose both looked relieved that Cohen apparently possessed wholesome hobbies.
Naturally, if they discovered those hobbies included illegally raising fire dragons and forbidden dark creatures, the smiles would vanish instantly.
Soon, the conversation shifted toward the Dungeons & Dragons sandbox Edward built for Cohen.
"Wait," Edward said suddenly, horrified. "You didn't pursue any romance routes?"
"I was busy levelling."
"I designed an entire group of beautiful female characters for you!" Edward cried out in disbelief. "I even wrote relationship storylines! Don't tell me you spent the entire game fighting monsters!"
The conversation rapidly became unsuitable for children after that point, earning Edward a furious scolding from Rose.
And just like that, everything felt normal again.
Cohen's death became a false alarm.
Edward and Rose did not remain at Hogwarts much longer afterward. Dumbledore personally reassured them several more times that Cohen would be "absolutely safe" within the school from now on.
Rose even apologised for some of the things she shouted earlier that morning.
Dumbledore, however, refused to accept the apology.
Instead, he repeatedly insisted her reaction was entirely justified and that he remained the one truly responsible.
By evening, Hogwarts had largely returned to normal.
The only real changes were Quirrell's death...
And the fact that Cohen had eaten the Philosopher's Stone.
After dinner, Nicolas Flamel returned alone to Cohen's ward.
"Mr Flamel," Cohen greeted politely while sitting upright in bed. "Thank you for saving me."
Basic manners still mattered.
"Hah, honestly, I still don't know which spell worked," Nicolas admitted cheerfully.
The ancient alchemist lacked almost all of the arrogance Cohen expected from someone legendary.
He practically shuffled-ran toward the bed beside Cohen's and sat down eagerly so they could speak face to face.
"My guess is that you were always capable of returning on your own," Nicolas said thoughtfully. "But because most people instinctively perceive death as final, perhaps your soul hesitated slightly. Regardless, the result turned out well."
Then Nicolas studied him carefully.
"I spoke with your parents and Albus earlier. You already understand some of your origins?"
"Yes," Cohen replied. "I've read books mentioning Homunculi."
"You're extraordinary, Cohen," Nicolas said seriously. "And I'm not exaggerating."
His cloudy eyes sharpened slightly.
"I've seen many similar alchemical experiments throughout my life. Personally, I refuse to conduct such unethical research. But I've studied the records."
His expression darkened faintly.
"Every single Man in the Bottle subject died within three years."
Cohen listened silently.
"The materials used in those experiments were almost identical to yours," Nicolas continued. "The only real difference lay in the choice of raw components. But ironically, raw materials were never the important factor."
Then he leaned slightly closer.
"Do you understand what makes you different?"
"Does it mean the Burkes got absurdly lucky?" Cohen guessed.
"Not exactly."
Nicolas shook his head slowly.
"Different species reject one another naturally. Powerful magic can force them together temporarily, but only like glue binding shattered glass. Eventually, everything breaks apart again."
"You alone survived."
His voice softened.
"And the reason is because you possess something none of the others ever had."
"What?"
"Love."
Nicolas smiled gently.
"The same force Albus always speaks about."
Cohen almost frowned immediately.
"That sounds a bit ridiculous. Edward and Rose only adopted me after I was born."
Then suddenly—
He understood.
Cohen had not been loved after his birth.
He had been loved before it.
Herbert Burke.
The broken man still imprisoned beside the ruins of Burke Manor had already poured all his hope, grief, obsession, and affection into "Cohen" long before the experiment succeeded.
Was love truly magical?
Cohen remained deeply sceptical.
Mostly.
"Of course," Nicolas admitted casually, "this is merely my personal theory."
He chuckled softly.
"If this were three hundred years ago, I probably would've dissected your existence academically for decades. I was still young then and terribly curious."
Three hundred years ago, Nicolas Flamel had already been over three hundred years old.
Cohen strongly suspected immortality damaged one's sense of time.
"But now..." Nicolas smiled warmly. "I'd rather see children like you grow up happily."
"I honestly thought you wanted to study me," Cohen admitted. "Especially regarding the Philosopher's Stone."
"The Stone no longer matters much to me," Nicolas replied calmly.
"The fact that it merged with you proves the Magnum Opus described within the Emerald Tablet was never merely referring to the Philosopher's Stone itself. The end of alchemy still remains unseen."
He shrugged lightly.
"But that's a problem for future generations."
"My wife and I intend to prepare ourselves properly and move on to our next journey."
Cohen understood immediately.
"The next journey is death," Nicolas said directly. "For clear-minded people, death is merely another great adventure."
His voice held no fear whatsoever.
"We've lived long enough. It's time to see new scenery."
Then Nicolas reached out with his dry, thin hand and gently ruffled Cohen's hair.
"But you are different. Your adventure has only just begun. There are still countless things waiting for you in this world."
His eyes softened further.
"Cherish the people you love while there's still time."
Then he stood.
Before Cohen could say anything else, Nicolas placed a letter onto the bedside table and vanished instantly.
"Did he really need to make it that dramatic...?" Cohen muttered.
The man clearly knew Apparition. Yet he insisted on painfully shuffling around the castle all day.
When Cohen opened the letter, he discovered a brass key attached beside several handwritten lines.
The key was ancient and covered in intricate carvings. Nothing created by Nicolas Flamel looked ordinary.
The letter itself was brief.
[Cohen.]
[If you are interested in alchemy, you may visit my workshop in two years. Some things there may help your studies.]
[Enclosed is the key. Insert it into any door, and it will lead you to my workshop.]
[Please wait two years before using it. At present, the workshop still resembles an abandoned rubbish dump. I intend to organise things properly before leaving.]
The final sentence looked hastily added afterward in fresher ink.
[I suspect you will eventually require assistance from the source of alchemy itself. I noticed your soul remains incomplete.]
[So whether you are interested or not... come find me in two years.]
....
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