Chapter 49: Cohen: I Have an Idea

After finishing breakfast, Cohen hurried over to Quirrell's office. The smell of garlic here was even stronger than usual, indicating that Voldemort's influence over Quirrell's body was growing deeper.

[Soul Strength: 5 (Damaged) / 25]
[Soul Strength: 40 + 10]

Quirrell's soul strength had been drained by a full 20 points by Voldemort, while the temporary boost transferred to Voldemort's own soul was only 10 points.
Once Voldemort left Quirrell's body, that temporarily increased value would vanish—so Cohen didn't really need to worry too much.

"Mr. Norton, c-come in, please—" Quirrell stammered as he led Cohen into the office, casting a nervous, suspicious glance outside before shutting the door.
Then, Quirrell locked the door and cast a sealing spell upon it.

"Cohen, the Dark Lord desperately needs the Sorcerer's Stone now. I have to speed things up..." Quirrell said, his face deathly pale.
Voldemort must have been putting pressure on him—much like how a teammate who dies and stares at a black screen always puts pressure on the player still fighting for survival.

"Then go steal it. You've been talking about it for half a year," Cohen said with a drooping expression. "That big dog you saw last Halloween—"
"That is a security measure left behind by Hagrid, the gamekeeper," Quirrell hastily replied. "I've already thought of a way... to trick him into revealing how to get past that dog..."

Magical creatures like the three-headed dog were practically immune to any spells that could directly threaten their lives—which was why ancient wizards once believed they were guardians sent from the underworld.
Its only weakness was that it would fall asleep upon hearing music—something Cohen had originally planned to just blurt out.
Instead, Quirrell reached into his desk and pulled out a massive, pitch-black egg.

"You told me I couldn't bring dragons into the castle, yet you brought one in yourself?" Cohen looked at Quirrell with a deadpan stare.
"This is to trick Hagrid into giving up the information," Quirrell explained defensively. "Dragon eggs can still be bought on the black market—though adult dragons are somewhat... difficult to transport."

"Can you get me a few as well?" Cohen pressed on. "That way I can test out a lot of magic—you know, capturing live humans makes it too easy for Dumbledore to notice, but raising small animals is different. I can practice my magical theories on them—things like chained Avada Kedavra spells."
"After all, dragons have a relatively high resistance to magic—"

***

"Dragon eggs are very expensive," Quirrell said in embarrassment. "I've spent all my savings. Those dragon egg smugglers are completely insane..."
"Fine..." Cohen replied reluctantly. "When are you going to question him? Make it quick. I want to start moving before the final exams, don't mess up my academics."

"The Dark Lord assumes that after success, you will follow him and learn from him..." Quirrell expressed his confusion regarding Cohen's priorities.
"Knowledge and a diploma are two entirely different things," Cohen lectured earnestly. "You're still too trapped in the academic realm. What I need isn't mere knowledge—it's power."

"You need a diploma to infiltrate the Ministry of Magic, and then you climb your way up step by step using the Imperius Curse and assassinations. It's called a peaceful coup—I've already studied the deeds of the last two Dark Lords. They were far too crude. You know, people generally prefer milder changes. Once I rule the Ministry, I'll spend a few years inciting conflict events between Muggles and wizards..."
Quirrell was left utterly dumbfounded after hearing several rounds of Cohen's grand plans.

"Good boy... Your plan certainly has its merits..." Voldemort's voice sounded slowly from beneath Quirrell's turban, "but there are numerous loopholes... Detecting dark wizards isn't as simple as just looking at behavioral performance..."

"Oh?" Cohen raised an eyebrow and drew his wand.
"Expecto Patronum!"
A thick plume of dense white mist surged from the tip of Cohen's wand.

"How is that possible!" Quirrell's voice pitched up several octades as he stared incredulously at Cohen's Patronus charm.
Though it lacked a corporeal form, it had indeed been cast—
Yet Cohen had used dark magic no fewer than several hundred times over the past six months! The creatures he had killed in Quirrell's office were almost numerous enough to pave a layer across the Great Hall of Hogwarts!

"Magic is truly wondrous, isn't it?"
"But you... aren't you..." Quirrell remembered that the experiment at Borgin and Burkes ought to have been a fusion performed by a dark magical creature...

"I went over there the day before yesterday," Cohen said. "Though there were a few minor twists and turns, I more or less figured out the cause and process of that experiment—probably because they added some weird, eccentric creature DNA into the mix."
"Looking at it this way..."

Quirrell mentally substituted the scenario of "Cohen can disguise himself as a perfectly normal wizard" into the plan Cohen had just outlined.
It seemed... could this kid actually pull it off?

How on earth would the Ministry of Magic prove that Cohen was an evil entity? Claim he was a Dementor? Declare him an evil dark magical creature?
What kind of bloody Dementor could cast a Patronus?!
Why, most people in the Ministry couldn't even cast that spell themselves!

Both Quirrell and Voldemort at the back of his head fell silent for a long moment.
"So, if you two interfere with my plans, I will hesitate not a second to pretend to switch sides in order to preserve my own identity," Cohen warned. "However, you make wonderful partners, and our goals are aligned."

Cohen was referring to Voldemort, who wanted to stir up chaos in order to seize power.
"Of course... we will have many more opportunities for cooperation in the future..." Voldemort's voice sounded like a viper flicking its tongue, but for now, he had accepted the conditions Cohen laid out.

"So how do you plan to rendezvous with Hagrid? You certainly can't go to him in your current identity to sell a dragon egg," Cohen steered the topic back to Quirrell.
"Perhaps at the pub in Hogsmeade?" Quirrell asked. "I remember he frequently goes to the Three Broomsticks for a drink..."

"You're planning to conduct illegal transactions at the Three Broomsticks?" Cohen sighed in exasperation at Quirrell's plan. "At least use the Hog's Head! How about this: I'll go tell Hagrid that I want some butterbeer from the Hog's Head—you wait for him inside. When he arrives, you rope him into playing cards or something, gambling a dragon egg. He won't be able to resist the temptation..."

"But how will you... get Hagrid to buy you butterbeer?" Quirrell remained somewhat uneasy about this scheme.
"I've already established a good relationship with Hagrid. Do you think I run around the school all day just to exercise? These are human connections; the future of the British magical world lies entirely within Hogwarts," Cohen waved his hand dismissively. "Besides, I have a condition he simply cannot refuse—"

Aside from Cohen, there was only one person in the entire Hogwarts who wouldn't panic or hostilely drive away a Nightmare Unicorn upon seeing it—
Hagrid would undoubtedly be captivated by such a creature he had never laid eyes on before, and he certainly wouldn't refuse this unicorn's request.
For instance, if it wanted to drink some butterbeer from the Hog's Head.