Chapter 5: The Owl "Count"

Still, it was the only wand in the entire shop that dared to face Cohen directly; it would seem rather ungrateful to Mr. Ollivander, who had been running back and forth for so long, not to buy it.

After paying Mr. Ollivander seven Galleons, Cohen and Edward left the wand shop.

Cohen pondered the wand for a long time before realizing that the soul within it seemed to possess only simple emotions, such as "I like this wizard, so I'll stick with him for life" or "I hate this wizard, so I won't help him." Now, a new emotion needed to be added: the fear of "if you encounter a Dementor picking out a wand, you must flee immediately to avoid being harmed."

Considering the rule that "a wand changes its allegiance when its master is defeated," Cohen felt these wands were like some sort of semi-intelligent door lock—one that would immediately open for the person who beat its master if it saw them being pummeled at the doorstep. In short: spineless, intelligent, but not by much.

The subsequent process of buying textbooks, wizard robes, cauldrons, and potion ingredients went smoothly. After all, books, robes, cauldrons, and ingredients wouldn't scurry away in terror for fear that Cohen might suck out their souls—though perhaps the copy of *The Monster Book of Monsters* in the corner of Flourish and Blotts was an exception.

It had been alone in its iron cage, tearing at its own pages, but the moment Cohen entered the shop, the book fell instantly silent and huddled in the corner, shivering.

[Soul Strength: 5]

"Such a weak book," Cohen evaluated internally at the time.

The shop assistant, who was helping Cohen gather his textbooks, happened to see the suddenly quiet book and concluded that Cohen was his lucky star. He secretly slipped Cohen two Galleons and seven Sickles, begging him to take the two-Galleon monster book away. The assistant even showed him a scarred hand that had finally healed.

"This book is terrifying... I can't believe the manager keeps such a thing in the shop... They're as bad as Cornish pixies—no, wait, at least those pixies don't bite..."

Amidst the assistant's curse—that this thing would one day become a Hogwarts textbook, requiring them to stock thousands of copies, all of which would have to be managed by the shop owner alone because the assistants would have long since quit—Edward pushed the cart full of books and school supplies for Cohen as they left the shop.

"Ah, well, next is buying you a pet."

Edward groaned, finished with the chores, and glanced at *The Monster Book of Monsters* lying quietly in the cart, seemingly puzzled as to why it was as silent as if it were dead.

"I can see why your grandmother was so reluctant to take me shopping back then; a young wizard's entrance supplies are a bit too cumbersome..."

"I hope the small animals aren't as cowardly as the wands..."

Cohen, having just absorbed the soul of the monster book, suddenly had a bad premonition.

In the memories Cohen inherited from his predecessor, normal small animals would not fear him—as long as Cohen didn't take the initiative to start absorbing their souls. But whether magical creatures might have a specific reaction to the aura of a Dementor was unknown...

This question was answered the moment Cohen stepped into the dark, gloomy Eeylops Owl Emporium.

The owl shop, which had been noisy with constant hooting, went silent the instant Cohen stepped through the door.

"Hmm?" The female proprietor was puzzled by the owls' sudden silence, then spotted Cohen entering alone, clutching his money bag.

Edward had stayed outside with the fully loaded cart, as it couldn't fit into the tiny shop that only allowed one person at a time. Besides, there were pickpockets in Diagon Alley from time to time—even in the magical world, there were always greedy people hoping to get something for nothing; the only place those people wouldn't dare steal from was probably Gringotts.

"Hello, I'd like to buy an owl," Cohen said, pretending to be oblivious to the middle-aged woman with curly hair.

Wait, it wasn't his fault the birds were shivering in their cages; he hadn't sucked their souls dry...

"Um... the owls here are usually very... lively..."

The manager’s rehearsed pitch got stuck in her throat. The owls were now all standing stiffly, posing like stone statues.

"May I pick one out myself?" Cohen asked politely.

Seeing the situation, Cohen didn't actually want to buy an owl anymore—if they were this terrified of him, buying one might border on "animal cruelty." Owls only had a soul strength of two or three, and Cohen had just absorbed the soul of *The Monster Book of Monsters*, which had a strength of five, yet it only increased his soul integrity by 0.5%...

In other words, slaughtering a normal owl provided less of an upgrade than stealing candy from children.

What changed Cohen's mind wasn't that he’d finished his toffee, but the presence of two rather unusual birds among the owls.

One was a pure white snowy owl with a soul strength of seven. At first glance, Cohen suspected this was the "Hedwig" that Harry would later own.

And the other... was a mostly brown, mottled horned owl with white eyebrows and black "feathered ears."

Of course, owls don't have ears that form pointed tips on the top of their heads; their real ears are under the feathers on the sides of their heads. If you parted the feathers, you could even see their massive eyeballs through their ear holes.

[Soul Strength: 10]

Is this the kind of soul strength a normal owl can have???

Cohen was filled with curiosity about this owl, and of course, the owl was just as curious about Cohen. It stared at him, its head rotating 90 degrees clockwise, as if inspecting something bizarre.

For some reason, Cohen had the feeling that this thing would reach out a black, line-drawn arm from under its wing and pull a potato chip from a bag nearby—wait, why was there a half-eaten bag of potato chips in a birdcage? Did the wizarding world even have potato chips???

"What's this one called? How much is it?"

***

"Doesn't this owl look a bit old?"

Edward frowned as he watched Cohen carry a horned owl that was several sizes larger than the other, younger owls.

"Its name is Earl. The manager said it has been in the shop for three years. If it doesn't sell, it might be sent to the Owl Post Office for forced labor..." Cohen explained to Edward.

"Oh..." Edward nodded thoughtfully. "Sounds pitiful, makes me feel a bit sorry for it—is that why you bought it?"

"No," Cohen replied matter-of-factly, shaking his head. "Because it only cost ten Sickles. All the other owls cost at least two Galleons."

Buying an owl with such an inexplicably high soul strength for ten Sickles was a total steal. Even if he couldn't figure out anything special about it, when it got old, Cohen could always "tearfully" eat it—in both the mental and physical sense.