Chapter 30: Go Find the Troll!

"Northumberland, in a manor—tsk, tsk, you could hear the wailing of souls from a hundred miles away."

The Earl recalled the scenes of the past, clicking his tongue in mockery.

"No one dares to live there even now—though for you, it should feel just like home. Mind you, in those last two sentences I spoke, 'never-lived' and 'homeland' happened to rhyme; how amusing—"

"You can be quiet now," Cohen sighed, clutching his forehead. "I'll sneak out to take a look during Christmas. It's not like Mom and Dad take me out for the holidays anyway..."

Northumberland was only about three miles from the Scottish Highlands. Cohen felt he could fly there—hopefully without being seen. Then again, Muggles couldn't see Dementors; at most, Cohen would just terrify a few wizards who happened to glimpse a Dementor in the sky along the way.

The day before Halloween, their Charms class reached a historic moment.

After Cohen had already experimented with a pile of spells on his own, his classmates were finally learning their first incantation.

"That's why I say doing homework is completely useless," Cohen whispered to Harry during the lesson. "Homework is the most evil invention in the world."

"Agreed," Harry nodded in affirmation.

Ever since they had escaped from the three-headed dog, Hermione had barely spoken to the two of them—so she didn't look very happy when she was assigned to sit next to Ron.

"Now, don't forget that subtle flick of the wrist we've been practicing!"

Professor Flitwick, standing on top of a stack of books, squeaked, "Swish and flick, remember, swish and flick. And pronouncing the incantation correctly is also very important—never forget Wizard Baruffio, who said 'f' instead of 's' and found himself lying on the floor with a buffalo on his chest."

The practical magic was done in pairs. Cohen was lucky enough to be paired with Neville—at least Neville was better than Seamus, who was sitting next to Harry; Cohen didn't have to worry about the feather next to him suddenly exploding.

Cohen had mastered this spell after only a few tries at home, which led him to believe that practicing magic was a very simple affair.

But for the other young wizards, it seemed that just getting the pronunciation right was a struggle.

"Wingardium Leviosa..."

His partner, Neville, had recited the incantation at least a hundred times, but the feather in front of him remained motionless.

"Please, just let something happen..." Neville groaned.

It seemed Neville would rather summon a buffalo like "Wizard Baruffio" than continue waving his wand around like a Muggle.

"You forgot the gesture," Cohen reminded him kindly, as Neville was truly just reciting the words without moving his wand-holding hand at all.

"Oh—oh..." Neville responded nervously, beginning to wave his wand through the air repeatedly to recall the motion.

[Ding! Kindness +1]

The pair at the next table, Ron and Hermione, were performing their classic routine.

"You're saying it wrong," Hermione told Ron bluntly. "It's Wing-gar-dium Levi-o-sa, not Wingardium Levi-o-sa. The 'gar' part needs to be said long and clearly."

"If you're so clever, you do it then," a red-faced Ron roared.

"I don't know what's going on; nobody in the classroom has been hit by a five-stack bleed effect, but someone seems to have entered 'blood rage'," Cohen quipped.

"What is 'blood rage'?" Neville asked Cohen, puzzled. "Is it a requirement for the spell?"

Cohen nudged his chin toward Ron, signaling Neville not to miss the show, as Ron now looked as if his face were on fire.

Just as she was instructing Ron, Hermione rolled up her sleeves, waved her wand, and said:

"Wingardium Leviosa!"

Hermione's magic succeeded on the first try, and the feather lifted off the table.

Now, Ron's face didn't look like it was on fire; it looked like it was about to explode.

For the rest of the class, Cohen successfully taught Neville how to cast the spell correctly—now Ron was one of the few students in the class who hadn't managed to make the feather float.

The more anxious people get, the easier it is to stumble over their own feet.

It wasn't until nearly the end of the class that a grumpy Ron finally completed the assignment.

"Thank you, Cohen..." Neville said repeatedly while packing up after class. "Otherwise, I feel like I definitely would have been given detention..."

"You were just too nervous; your incantation and movements were both fine," the kind Cohen comforted him.

[Ding! Kindness +5]

Cohen swore he wasn't showing kindness just for the kindness points.

"By the way, Neville, don't wait for me. I've been requisitioned by Professor Quirrell for the next period—if Professor Sprout asks, please help me explain."

The other students had already packed up and were heading to their next classrooms. Cohen packed his bag slowly and said this to Neville.

Cohen had to spend the rest of the afternoon luring a troll to the school.

With the Earl leading the way, Cohen soon flew to the mountainous area north of the Forbidden Forest and found the troll's lair, built from rounded stones.

"I can't believe I'm bringing a Dementor to a troll's nest," the Earl stopped on a "stone" in front of Cohen. Cohen had already dropped his Dementor form—since he couldn't scare the troll away. "God must be fucking insane."

"I don't know if God is insane, but you certainly are."

Cohen looked at the black "stone" under the Earl's feet and stepped back a few paces in awe.

"What—fuck!" The Earl flapped his wings and scrambled into the air.

"Don't you dare enter the Room of Requirement or Gryffindor Tower until you've washed yourself clean," Cohen demanded.

"How the hell am I supposed to wash my own claws!" the Earl retorted. "Can't you just cast a spell?"

After dealing with the Earl, Cohen began setting up the troll trap.

Following Newt's methods, he found an old, peeling leather suitcase in the junk room of the Room of Requirement and applied an Undetectable Extension Charm and a Strengthening Charm—during which he also found the "Diadem of Ravenclaw" hidden in the junk room.

The soul fragment in this Horcrux only had an intensity of 20 points. Cohen would be able to consume it once he leveled up one more time—so he left it in the "Cohen Base" within the Room of Requirement.

Everything went smoothly. Cohen opened the suitcase at the entrance of the troll's cave and transfigured the ground at the opening into smooth marble—that way, as soon as the troll walked out, it would slide right into the suitcase.

Afterward, Cohen walked into the pitch-black cave.

The troll's snoring could be heard faintly from the depths of the cave. A foul, musty stench filled the air; Cohen didn't want to go any deeper after taking only one step.

"Confringo!"