"Cohen?"
Edward suddenly spoke into the empty air beside the bed.
Rose looked at him in confusion.
"What are you doing?"
"Have you forgotten what Cohen is?" Edward asked quickly, the more he thought about it, the more convinced he became. "Cohen is part Dementor!"
Realisation slowly spread across Rose's face, but Edward continued before she could speak.
"Think about it. The Philosopher's Stone disappeared because Cohen's soul absorbed it. That means his soul still exists somewhere nearby. He might even be listening to us right now."
Edward's breathing became increasingly excited.
"Wait... maybe we can prove it."
He turned toward Cohen's body nervously.
"Cohen," he said carefully, choosing every word with absurd caution, "I know this might be difficult for you to hear, but there's something your mother and I need to explain."
Floating invisibly nearby, Cohen immediately felt alarmed.
"What is he about to say...?"
"What Professor Dumbledore said earlier is true," Edward continued awkwardly. "You are... well... technically a hybrid of several magical species."
He swallowed hard.
"But that doesn't matter. Your mum and dad will always love you no matter what you are."
Rose's eyes instantly reddened again.
Edward hurried onward before the atmosphere collapsed completely.
"One of your bloodlines happens to come from Dementors. So... theoretically, you should be able to sense happiness, right?"
His voice became hopeful.
"Could you try absorbing a little? Just enough for your mum and me to know you're still here?"
Edward genuinely had no idea how Dementors perceived people.
Fortunately, Cohen already possessed terrifying expertise regarding souls and emotions. Edward's terrible teaching quality had absolutely no impact whatsoever.
The room fell silent.
Edward waited nervously for any reaction at all. Perhaps coldness. Perhaps a magical disturbance. Anything.
Rose also stared around the room anxiously, fresh hope slowly appearing in her eyes.
One second.
Two seconds.
Nothing happened.
Their expressions gradually dimmed again.
Then—
"Hiss!"
Edward suddenly shivered violently.
It felt as though an icy hand had touched his shoulder.
Rose gasped moments later as the same freezing sensation brushed against her.
Cohen had absolutely no intention of devouring their happiness or souls. He merely wanted to prove he was still alive.
There was no need to traumatise his parents further.
Yet even that tiny interaction instantly transformed the room's atmosphere completely.
What greater news could there possibly be than discovering Cohen still existed?
[Ding! Goodwill Value +10]
[Note: Bushgomen. Do you actually possess a conscience after all?]
Even several hours later, Edward and Rose remained visibly energised.
That afternoon, Nicolas Flamel finally arrived at Hogwarts accompanied by Dumbledore.
The ancient alchemist looked disturbingly fragile. His skin resembled dried parchment stretched across brittle bones, and he appeared less like a legendary wizard and more like a ghost barely lingering in the mortal world.
The moment Dumbledore entered the ward, Edward nearly jumped to his feet.
"Professor Dumbledore! Cohen is still alive!"
His voice rose several octaves from excitement.
"Ow—"
Nicolas Flamel immediately covered his ears in pain.
"My apologies!" Edward said quickly, lowering his voice in horror. "You must be Mr Flamel?"
The elderly man standing before him looked incapable of surviving a strong breeze. It was impossible to connect this frail figure with the great alchemist who had lived for over six hundred years.
"Ah, it's alright, it's alright..." Nicolas said weakly after recovering from the ringing in his ears. "I really should wear hearing aids these days. But visiting Albus fully equipped with magical artefacts feels rather rude."
"To be fair, I wouldn't feel offended," Dumbledore replied dryly.
Then he introduced both sides properly.
"These are Cohen's parents. Edward and Rose Norton."
"Hello, hello."
Nicolas extended his hand politely.
Unfortunately, his body now resembled fragile paper more than human flesh.
Edward nearly panicked the instant their hands met. It was impossible to judge appropriate strength while shaking hands with Nicolas Flamel. The old man's fingers felt as though they might crumble apart at any second.
"Hiss—ah, don't worry," Nicolas reassured him immediately. "That happens all the time these days."
Within seconds, traces of remaining Philosopher's Stone magic repaired the damage quietly.
"Perhaps we should move past introductions," Dumbledore suggested. "Cohen's condition is more urgent."
[Soul Strength: 99]
For a six-hundred-year-old alchemist, that number somehow felt perfectly reasonable.
Cohen strongly suspected the system displayed ninety-nine not because Dumbledore and Nicolas Flamel's souls stopped there, but because the system itself lacked numbers high enough to continue measuring.
"Ah... there he is."
Nicolas suddenly turned toward the empty air near the second bed.
"Oh. No, slightly more to the left."
Cohen froze.
The old man was not looking at his body.
He was looking directly at his soul.
"You can see me?!" Cohen blurted out instinctively.
Originally, he assumed Nicolas would require magical equipment or specialised rituals to perceive souls.
Yet Nicolas gave no response.
Apparently, he could not hear spiritual voices directly. More likely, he sensed the remaining traces of the Philosopher's Stone within Cohen's soul. After all, Nicolas himself created the Stone.
Naturally, he possessed methods of detecting it.
Which also meant Cohen had not fully absorbed it yet.
"Ah, yes, he's definitely here," Nicolas muttered happily.
The elderly alchemist hurried toward Cohen in what resembled jogging, though in reality it was merely enthusiastic shuffling.
"Can you see Cohen?" Rose asked anxiously.
Neither she nor Edward could perceive Cohen's soul. From their perspective, Nicolas was simply staring into empty space.
"You mentioned earlier that Cohen interacted with you," Dumbledore said thoughtfully to Edward. "How exactly?"
"We asked him to try touching us," Edward explained carefully, making sure not to deafen Nicolas again. "Rose and I both felt cold hands on our shoulders. It had to be Cohen."
"Oh..."
Hope immediately appeared in Dumbledore's eyes as well.
"That's extremely promising. If we can simply return Cohen's soul to his body properly, then—"
Nicolas began waving energetically at Cohen's spirit, clearly trying to signal him toward the bed.
Cohen floated back obediently.
His soul merged partially into the body...
Then stopped.
Nothing happened.
Unfortunately, resurrection apparently was not that easy. Otherwise Nicolas Flamel would appear entirely useless.
Cohen immediately began desperately brainstorming ways to make the resurrection look convincing.
At the very least, Nicolas needed to perform some dramatic process first. Whether it worked or not mattered far less than making the resurrection seem plausible.
"It's magnificent..."
Nicolas stared at Cohen with increasing fascination.
"All these conflicting biological components... perfectly balanced together without rejection..."
His voice sounded less like someone examining a patient and more like an artist admiring a masterpiece.
"Albus," Nicolas said without looking away from Cohen, "you should have informed me about this child much sooner. I've never heard anything remotely similar."
"We wanted him to experience a normal childhood," Dumbledore explained quietly. "Furthermore, the Ministry strictly suppresses all information regarding his identity. Most people believe he was merely an accidental result of the Burke family's experiments."
"Chance and miracles are always intertwined."
The more Nicolas looked at Cohen, the brighter his expression became.
"He's extraordinary. Absolutely extraordinary."
His cloudy eyes practically sparkled.
"It must be fate that I met him before my death."
Floating nearby, Cohen nearly snorted.
Fate?
No.
Every single step here had been achieved through careful planning, manipulation, and terrifying amounts of effort.
Still, seeing Nicolas Flamel suddenly look ready to live another fifty years purely to study him...
Cohen knew his plan had succeeded.
....
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