Chapter 81: Someone’s Dementor Trafficking Scheme

Drunk unicorns stumbling around the forest could spell trouble, so Hagrid needed to whip up a sobering potion fast. He'd never dealt with intoxicated unicorns before, and it wasn't even clear if human sobering remedies would work on them…

In his frantic rush, Hagrid barely registered Cohen stuffing Allie into his suitcase to take her along, especially after taking over the crate of raw meat Hagrid had prepped for Norbert and the leftover cases of butterbeer.

Lugging the suitcase back to the eighth floor of the castle, Cohen planned to tidy up the Room of Requirement and pack his stuff.

It looked like the Forbidden Forest unicorns were in for a long detox period. Cohen was even debating cutting Allie off from booze entirely.

[*No way!*]

Allie, sprawled in the corner sobering up, mumbled hazily.

[*It's my one little hobby… Can't I just… enjoy it in peace…*]

"Snore…"

Allie passed out.

"She turned the whole Forbidden Forest unicorn herd into alcoholics?" Earl tilted his head. "What kind of drink's *that* good?"

"Stop with the dangerous ideas," Cohen warned. "I can't imagine the insane stuff you'd say—or do—if you got drunk."

Judging by Earl's expression, though, it only made him more curious.

Cohen didn't have much luggage. Aside from some jars and trinkets he'd swiped from forest critters to sell, there was just Edward's big chessboard and a few books.

"What's this thing again?" Cohen asked, pulling a blue gemstone from the cabinet.

"A sorry gift from the Malfoy family," Earl reminded him. "Looks like an amulet—but do you really need one?"

"Oh, right." It clicked for Cohen. Malfoy had come back to school early over Christmas just to give it to him.

The Malfoys had invited Cohen to visit their manor—though Cohen only agreed because he'd been angling for a chance to get to Azkaban.

"You can play with it," Cohen said, tossing the stone to Earl. Once its runes were activated with magic, it did have an effect similar to the *Protego* charm.

But for one, Cohen already knew how to cast *Protego* after boosting his soul strength. And for another, he didn't really need it—*Protego* didn't block the Patronus Charm anyway.

Whoever invented *Protego* probably never imagined someone trying to use it against a Patronus…

The candy stash in the cabinet was nearly gone too. Cohen moved everything into the house inside his suitcase, even nabbing a few blankets from the Room of Requirement to spread across the bedrooms in his little cabin.

Next up was waiting for the end-of-term feast, then hopping the train home.

This year's House Cup went to Gryffindor, no surprise there. Without Harry and the others racking up massive point deductions from their nighttime escapades, and with Cohen making Quirrell tack on points here and there, Gryffindor clinched it with a solid 510. Even Cohen's "Special Contribution to the School" award—worth an extra 150 points—didn't bring any thrilling last-minute comeback vibes.

"Check out Malfoy's face," Ron said, gloating. "I heard Slytherin had won six years straight—then Cohen shows up and ruins it."

"The Special Contribution Award doesn't even come with a cash prize?" 

Cohen grumbled, a little let down.

He didn't care much about the House Cup—it's not like they handed out solid gold trophies to everyone. But the Special Contribution Award being just a display piece in the school felt cheap.

Cohen doubted anyone bothered visiting the trophy room to check out past winners. It's not like the plaques listed contact info.

The final exam results came out the next day. Harry and Ron had scraped by, and they were beyond grateful for the History of Magic tips Cohen had shared.

"Seventy-two! Awesome!" Harry cheered when he got his grades.

Cohen hovered steadily around 90 on every subject. Since Hermione aced everything with perfect 120s, Cohen's flawless percentage-copying scheme had no flaws. 

They were all just coasting—passing without the professors noticing was victory enough.

Along with the grades came a warning not to use magic over the break. 

But that was a sham. The Ministry couldn't pinpoint who cast a spell in a given area—they could only detect magic in a broad radius. Since Cohen's parents were both wizards, he could sneak a few spells without issue.

Wizarding families didn't usually tell their kids this, though. If young witches and wizards got free rein to cast spells outside school, they'd be a nightmare to control.

It worked out great for Harry, too. If the Nortons hadn't moved to Privet Drive, he'd have been stuck with zero magic all summer.

Cohen wasn't about to spill that secret to Harry, though. Who knew what a hotheaded, magic-unleashed Harry might do to the Dursleys? Their classmate bond could turn into a prison boss-and-inmate situation real fast.

So, Cohen figured he'd keep that perk to himself.

Early the next morning, they boarded the Hogwarts Express and rolled into London's King's Cross Station by mid-afternoon.

"You guys wanna come to my place this summer?" Ron asked the other three as they neared the exit. "You're all welcome—I'll send you letters inviting you."

"Definitely," Harry said eagerly. "If the Dursleys let me out—Cohen, you in?"

"I might be busy," Cohen said, frowning. "But not for long—depends on timing."

Hermione had plans to travel to France with her parents and regretfully declined, promising next time for sure.

One by one, they passed through the solid wall. Their families were waiting outside.

Rose was chatting with the Grangers about *The Times*' layout, while Vernon Dursley kept a cautious distance nearby. Back in the day, he'd have jumped into the conversation, but ever since he learned these families had wizard kids, he'd been steering clear.

Still, despite their sour faces, the Dursleys showed up to take Harry home.

Edward and Rose, on the other hand, were the picture of parents picking up their kid. Edward bustled around grabbing Cohen's luggage, while Rose crouched down, pulled Cohen into a hug, and planted a big kiss on him.

"Public place!" Cohen squirmed.

"Man, your mom never greets me like that when I get home," Edward said, jealous.

"You're forty-two," Rose shot back, blunt as ever. "Don't act like a five-year-old."

After loading the luggage into the car, Cohen slid into the backseat.

Edward said he'd prepped a lavish dinner for Cohen, plus enough snacks to last him half the break. He also planned to show Cohen his latest sandbox project that afternoon. Rose, meanwhile, had to head to work. ("Otherwise, you two would starve," she'd snapped when Edward suggested she take the day off.)

"Oh, hey, Cohen—interested in a trip?" 

After dropping Rose off at the Murdoch News Corporation building, Edward suddenly remembered a plan he'd mentioned to her earlier.

"You mean the kind of trip where you waste your vacation getting dragged around by adults to a bunch of tourist spots, snapping tired photos, and pretending 'Wow, what a great trip'?" Cohen asked.

"Nah, relax. An old classmate of mine is setting up a wizarding world tour thing. It's just for young witches and wizards—no parents, no adults butting in. Probably some of your classmates, too. Wanted to see if you're up for it," Edward explained. "Your mom and I thought you might need a break. But if you'd rather stay home, we can just turn it down…"

Hold up.

A sudden overseas trip, no adult wizards allowed, sourced from an "old classmate"…

It's a trafficking scheme! 

"Sounds awesome, I'm in!"

Cohen agreed enthusiastically.

(End of Chapter)