Harry shook his head as Sirius and Dumbledore helped him up. He looked dazed, still caught in the memories of what had just happened in the graveyard.
"He grabbed the Cup with me…" Harry murmured, staring at the broken Triwizard Cup. "It split in two—then I couldn't see him anymore—"
"This Portkey was divided into two parts," Dumbledore explained, once the onlookers had dispersed. "Cohen must have been taken somewhere else. Sirius, take Harry to get some rest. He's been through something terrifying tonight."
"You all stay here. I'll go find Cohen—" he added, turning to Edward.
But before he could leave, a flash of white light appeared at the maze entrance—and there was Cohen.
"Cohen!" Rose dashed over and wrapped her arms around him.
Edward and Herbert both exhaled in relief.
"Are you hurt? What happened—?"
"Pretty much the same as what you guys went through," Cohen told Rose, still in her embrace, as well as Edward and Herbert who'd rushed to his side. "Four people tried to hit me with a Patronus Charm—"
"A Patronus? Are you okay?" Edward, clearly alarmed, pulled Cohen out of Rose's hug and started patting him down as if to make sure all his limbs were still attached.
"Even if I got hit by a Patronus, I wouldn't be missing any body parts… Besides, you already know that, don't you?" Cohen blinked. "You know what my Patronus is, don't you…?"
"But that's just—wait…" Edward's eyes widened as realization battled with confusion across his face. "But mine's the same—and I didn't notice any difference…"
"Have you ever been a Dementor?"
Cohen imitated what the Silver Key member had said earlier:
"Some things can't be judged by the same standard…"
They didn't talk much longer before Cohen, along with Edward and the others, were led by Dumbledore back to the castle—Harry and Sirius walking beside them. Professor McGonagall followed with a worried expression, while Mad-Eye Moody hobbled behind them on his cane, puffing and grunting.
"I need to have a word with old Barty Crouch," Moody muttered, frowning. "Something's wrong with that Cup—if it was tampered with, someone inside the Ministry helped it happen."
There was someone inside.
Cohen had seen it in the memories of the Silver Key group's leader. In one of the letters that the leader had received, it clearly said that swapping the Cup wouldn't be hindered by any Ministry officials. Someone on the inside had helped create a window of opportunity.
But who that person was, the letter didn't say. Clearly, the leader didn't fully trust his own team.
They were brought to Professor McGonagall's office on the second floor—it was closer than climbing eight stories to Dumbledore's.
Just like Cohen expected, Dumbledore had Harry recount the details of Voldemort's return: how he'd been captured by a hooded Death Eater, how his blood had been taken, and how he watched Voldemort rise from a cauldron.
Harry described it as if Voldemort had appeared out of thin air, but to Cohen, it sounded more like Voldemort had been curled up in that cauldron all along, bashful about jumping out shirtless in front of Harry.
But Cohen didn't really care if Voldemort had his shirt on. What did matter was when Voldemort would finally pull that blood puppet out of the muck.
Because now, when Cohen tried projecting his consciousness into the puppet body he'd loaned Voldemort, all he saw was a pile of cold, soggy sludge—and Voldemort yelling at his Death Eaters.
Cohen was pretty sure he even heard something like, "If Cohen were here, he wouldn't just stand there doing nothing!"
Seriously? Praising one while insulting another? That's not a good leadership style.
"He said… using my blood would be more powerful than using someone else's…" Harry said shakily. "He was disappointed Cohen wasn't brought with me. He wanted both our blood…"
"Yeah, and if he had used mine, he'd be even more disappointed," Cohen muttered.
What did Voldemort think—his father's bones and his followers' hands were endless resources? Did he really think he could keep dying and coming back forever?
Using Cohen's blood, which was infused with all kinds of cursed liquids, would've just ruined the entire cauldron brew…
"Why did James and Lily appear when Harry's wand connected with Voldemort's?" Sirius asked Dumbledore.
"Priori Incantatem," Dumbledore replied. "Their wands share the same core—a feather from the same phoenix. When two such wands are forced to duel, rare phenomena occur…"
"Are those… actual souls of the dead?" Herbert asked thoughtfully.
"The dead do not return," Dumbledore said gently. "What the wand conjured were echoes of the past—like reversed memories."
"But I could hear them talking to me," Harry said, trembling. "They… they felt real. Like they were alive."
"Echoes retain the appearance and temperament of the living," Dumbledore sighed. "But they are not the ones we hold dear."
"But he's back—isn't he—" Harry stammered, as if the very idea drained him of all security.
"Harry, you were incredibly brave tonight. You faced him, fought him, and came back alive. Your courage is no less than the witches and wizards who stood against him during his darkest days," Dumbledore said solemnly. "There was nothing you could have done to stop this—and nothing you need to feel responsible for. We'll handle Voldemort. What you need now is rest. Sirius, could you take him to the hospital wing? Have Madam Pomfrey tend to his wounds—he should spend the night there."
pat-reon\:belamy20
"Maybe give him a dose of Dreamless Sleep, too," Sirius suggested, turning to Harry. "I doubt you'll sleep well tonight."
Sirius accompanied Harry out of the office.
Now it was Cohen's turn.
But Dumbledore asked Edward and the others to leave first—he wanted to speak with Cohen alone.
"Silver Key. Kidnapping. Counterattack," Cohen said with a yawn.
"I'm used to it."
"At least that terrible prophecy is behind us," Dumbledore murmured.
But he didn't let Cohen go to bed, nor did he speak for a while.
It was obvious he wanted details about the Silver Key's plan—after all, what happened with the Cup and the Portkey pointed to Ministry involvement.
Cohen told him everything he knew, down to the last detail.
But even after that, Dumbledore still had no idea who the mole inside the Ministry was.
"Someone's pulling the strings from the shadows," Cohen said. "But I bet they'll show themselves eventually…"
"Maybe we don't have to wait this time," Dumbledore replied. "You mentioned some of the Silver Key members are currently poaching magical creatures in Greece?"
"You're finally stepping in?" Cohen raised a brow.
"I believe I mentioned Mr. Scamander to you before," Dumbledore said. "As it happens, he's planning a visit to friends near the Aegean Sea. Perhaps you could join him."