Chapter 177: Tom and Jerry

Cohen figured it was probably fine to leave the cat with Martha.

At least it hadn't spoken in front of Martha and Edward, which meant it was willing to make some "sacrifices" in the talking department just to stay with her.

…

"Did its mouth just look like it was saying, 'I've decided to go with you now'?" Cohen asked the Count, his face completely deadpan.

"Sell me to some other little wizard instead," the Count said in despair. "Torture me if you want, just don't use Frondo."

"Don't make me suck out your soul, dick cat," Cohen threatened. "Hanging out with a Dementor's dangerous—especially one like me."

"Yep, totally," the Count agreed quickly.

Mr. Frondo's mouth was moving, mumbling something incoherent—Cohen didn't bother lifting the Tongue-Tying Curse (which seemed to have mutated on Frondo anyway; he could still move his tongue). The longer he stayed quiet, the better.

"He doesn't even look scared," the Count observed, making his choice on the spot. "I'd rather help you track down that Chimera Beast in the valley. Good luck!"

With that, the Count flapped his wings and bolted, like he'd explode if he spent another second near Mr. Frondo.

"Is he really *that* terrifying?" Cohen muttered, clicking his tongue.

But… according to Mr. Frondo, the Chimera Beast was hunting near the valley. So what was causing the disappearances in this town?

Suddenly, a kid's voice piped up behind Cohen.

"Are you talking to your pet?"

Cohen turned around and saw two boys, probably twelve or thirteen years old.

They were both dressed in typical, well-worn Muggle T-shirts, the colors faded from too many washes.

The taller one had short, dark brown hair and a few freckles sprinkled across his face. The other, with lighter, almost golden hair, looked a bit timid.

"We've never seen you around town," the taller brown-haired boy said, eyeing Cohen suspiciously. "And this is a dangerous area. Adults don't let kids come near here."

Cohen had seen this plotline before!

Muggle kids would decide he was a freak, start doing that American bully-style street dance, and then get taken out by an out-of-control Obscurus…

"I don't see any adults around," Cohen said, raising an eyebrow. "But I've read about the disappearances in the paper."

"That's 'cause they're too scared to come here themselves," the brown-haired boy said, sounding proud of his own bravery. "Five adults have gone missing already. I'm Tom—Tom Hall. This is my little brother, Jerry."

What a cat-and-mouse duo…

"I know our names are funny. Blame our dad—he loved cartoons," Tom said with a shrug, totally unbothered. "But seriously, if you know about the disappearances, why are you still wandering around here?"

"Looking for some fun," Cohen replied, glancing around. There really weren't any adults in sight. These two kids might be out here hunting for the culprit themselves—pretty gutsy. "I'm Cohen. Cohen Norton."

"Norton?" Jerry, who'd been hiding behind Tom, couldn't help but repeat the last name before quickly clamping a hand over his mouth.

"You mean *the* Nortons from the south side of town?" Tom suddenly got wary, stepping in front of Jerry and pulling him back a few steps.

"Yeah, the ones with the weird old guy," Cohen said. Martha had mentioned how Charlson used to scare off Muggle mailmen, so the Norton name didn't exactly have a great rep around here. "I'm just here on vacation—summer break."

"They say…" Tom's breathing sped up, "those disappearances were caused by that creepy old Norton guy… that he was a…"

?

Since when did Charlson crawl out of his grave to kidnap Muggles?

"Isn't that rumor a bit much?" Cohen said, raising an eyebrow. "My grandpa's been dead since Christmas two years ago."

"That makes it even *more* likely!" Tom said, doubling down on his theory. "Some people say he knew witchcraft! Getting revenge on the town after he died totally tracks!"

"That makes even *less* sense. If it was my family doing it, they wouldn't let me out of the house," Cohen said, spreading his hands.

"But you're out here now," Jerry mumbled.

"Same as you—snuck out," Cohen said. He could smell the emotions rolling off these kids: thick tension mixed with a dash of fear. They were scared of getting caught by adults, constantly glancing around.

"How'd you know—"

"You're both looking over your shoulders every two steps like you're pulling a heist. Obviously, you slipped out from home. But don't worry, I'm not the snitching type," Cohen said. "Still, I'd head back if I were you. If there's a real killer out here snatching people, you two are just asking for trouble."

"We're not causing trouble!" Jerry swallowed hard, his voice quiet but firm. "We brought weapons. We're gonna save our dad from that monster!"

So "save our dad" meant they were kids of one of the missing people.

Cohen pieced together why they were here in the park. This was starting to feel more and more like a *Conan* episode—and honestly, it was kind of a fun twist.

"This is our business," Tom said. "So you're out here looking for the culprit too? We could team up—do you know how to use a knife?"

As he spoke, Tom pulled a small knife out of his shoulder bag. Cohen caught a glimpse of a few more fruit knives inside, all different sizes, probably swiped from home.

"Monster?" Cohen took the knife. "How do you know it's a monster and not just some murderer?"

"'Cause we *saw* it the night Dad disappeared," Jerry said. "Right outside our window by the road—a huge black shadow bolted down the street—"

"Heading south. We thought it might've been something your grandpa raised—or turned into," Tom added. "But now…"

Cohen had already clarified the monster wasn't from the Norton family—though it technically *was*, just not responsible for the disappearances, at least as far as he figured.

"Could be something else. You can't always trust your eyes," Cohen said. "This town doesn't even have streetlights."

"We're here to check things out," Tom said. "Uncle Joel next door's watching his sick daughter today, so we managed to sneak out. Monster or kidnapper, they've gotta leave *some* kind of trace at the crime scene…"

"Why's 'Uncle Joel' the one watching you—oh…" Cohen stopped mid-question, politely dropping it.

"We came from outside the park and only found some sticky stuff so far," Tom said, turning to point at a cobblestone path. "Right over there."