Caught up with the fire dragon business, they completely forgot—there was still this to deal with today.
"Your dad and your uncle started fighting the second they saw each other," Arnold reported.
"Well, that's just f***ed up," Cohen frowned.
"It really is—wait, what the hell did you just say?!" Arnold's eyes widened.
"F***. I hope you never understand that word," Cohen replied with mock pity.
"The problem is, I do understand it…" Arnold said, suspicious. "Where the hell did you learn that from—don't tell me Edward taught you?"
"I didn't know it before, but now it's you who taught me," Cohen said with total innocence. "I'm going to tell my dad—"
Arnold took a deep breath. Stay calm, he reminded himself. He should've known from the very first day: dealing with Edward's kid was asking for trouble.
"You're not even angry? That's worse. Makes me want to bully you even more," Cohen sighed.
"Like you'd stop even if I was angry…" Arnold muttered. "Anyway, they're both inside—"
He brought Cohen to the edge of the arena, where two tents had been set up. One of them, pale blue, was the same kind Cohen had stayed in during the Quidditch World Cup.
But now, the shouting and general carnage were clearly coming from the brown tent next to it.
"Herbert's still alive after all this?" Cohen blinked in disbelief.
"You're really not the least bit worried your uncle might actually get beaten to death?" Arnold asked, bewildered. "No wonder you've looked so relaxed this whole time—"
"Of course I'm worried." Cohen leaned closer to the tent, listening. "But seeing as you already made a whole trip to get me, and with Edward and Rose's DPS combined, Herbert should've been dead by now. Getting anxious won't help."
"But he's not dead yet—shouldn't you go in and stop them?"
"It's because he's not dead after all this time that I want to hear what happened," Cohen explained.
"…That actually makes sense." Arnold's expression twitched.
There were no sounds of spells in the tent—just the raw thuds of a good old-fashioned brawl.
"Brother-in-law, stop—no—I didn't mean to—wait—!"
"Ow—!"
"I was wrong—!"
All of it was Herbert's voice, full of pain. Cohen already had the whole scene playing out in his head: Edward straddling Herbert, punching the life out of his big brother-in-law.
Nothing juicy was coming out of it though, so Cohen finally pushed aside the tent flap and walked in.
It was a basic two-room tent, looking like standard Ministry field equipment.
Herbert lay on the ground, face bruised and swollen. Edward was straddling him, one fist raised, but paused mid-air when Cohen entered.
Rose—surprisingly not participating in the fight despite being the most dangerous in terms of raw combat—sat quietly to the side, her eyes a little red. Cohen wasn't sure if it was because seeing Herbert brought back the pain of losing her "son," or just because her husband was beating up her brother.
Edward and Rose noticed Cohen right away. Herbert, on the other hand, only managed to raise his head after Edward froze.
"…"
Cohen didn't know what to say. Herbert had once said that he hadn't told Rose the truth because he felt he deserved the punishment.
But to Cohen, that just sounded like a self-soothing excuse. Because in that snowfield, Rose hadn't just lost a son—she'd lost a brother too.
"Didn't you have class, Cohen?" Edward quickly scrambled off Herbert, suddenly looking awkward.
They'd wanted to keep this whole mess away from Cohen. The last thing he needed was to be dragged into old grudges.
Especially with Cohen's current state… Edward had always feared that if Cohen found out Herbert was one of the people responsible for the original Cohen's death, then Herbert wouldn't live to see the next day.
Even though he and Rose were angry about the past, Herbert had given up part of his soul to try and make amends. He'd also lived in solitary confinement at the manor ruins for over a decade. Not to mention, Cohen had even said, "Herbert's been pretty good to me."
They just wanted Cohen to live with a little more light in his heart.
"We were just, uh—catching up. It's been a long time, you know," Edward fumbled.
"Mom's crying," Cohen said, lips pressed together. "I'm not dumb."
"My fault… It's all my fault…" Herbert didn't dare meet anyone's eyes as he muttered from the floor. "I shouldn't have… shouldn't have come here…"
"Why did you bring Cohen here?" Edward hissed as he dragged Arnold aside. "How am I supposed to explain this now?"
"You looked like you were about to kill him!" Arnold whispered back. "I couldn't stop you! If he died, I'd have to write a report—Scrimgeour wants him alive and present at the stadium to help the Ministry save face…"
"It's okay, Cohen. I just…" Rose pulled Cohen into a hug. "I'm not crying…"
It looked like Rose was comforting Cohen, but really, it was the other way around.
Because after that hug, her mood noticeably lifted.
"So, are you guys going to explain what's going on here? Or should I just go ahead and tell you what I know?" Cohen slid out of her arms, scanning Edward, Herbert, and Rose with a sharp gaze.
"…That's not easy to explain…" Edward looked toward Rose for support, but then froze, registering Cohen's choice of words. "Wait—what did you say you knew?"
Cohen's eyes locked onto Herbert.
And just like that, Edward and Rose turned their eyes on Herbert too.
He could no longer pretend to be unconscious, or hope someone else would take the fall.
"I—I told you… I didn't want…" Herbert opened his eyes at last. His gray hair made him look decades older than Edward, even though they were only ten years apart.
He sat up, hunched, eyes fixed on the floor.
"But you can't just keep running from it like this," Cohen said. "Neither I nor your Cohen would want to see you like this. You really think getting beaten up will magically make Edward or Mom feel better?"
"…"
Herbert stayed silent for a long moment.
"So… something did happen between you and him, right?" Edward still didn't understand. "What happened?"
That last part was directed at Herbert.
But he couldn't say it. The words just wouldn't come.
"Should I say it then?" Cohen asked, eyes on Herbert.
Herbert took a deep breath—and nodded.