Hogwarts, i am Dementor

After rescuing the guy from the Dementors' clutches, the emotionally intact man fled in a panic—he'd probably go brag in the Three Broomsticks about how he'd just escaped Dementors unscathed.

But Cohen wasn't worried at all, because no one would believe he could escape Dementors without a Patronus Charm and without being affected.

After delivering the message, Cohen also planned to return to Hogwarts Castle the way he came.

Dementors were generally quite obedient (they only messed up the delivery to Cohen because he hadn't given clear instructions)—especially after Cohen had that last Dementor inform the entire group to leave Sirius Black's soul alone.

So, would the future he saw... change because of this action?

Back in the castle, after dinner, Cohen fiddled with the prophecy crystal ball Martha had given him last year in the common room for a while.

It's just that his "prophecy" ability seemed to be on cooldown again. The crystal ball remained cloudy, not revealing the next future.

"Scabbers!" Ron suddenly exclaimed while playing chess with Harry, because his old rat Scabbers was being chased by Crookshanks again—the little rat scurried quickly up Ron's leg and hid in Ron's pocket, afraid to come out.

Everyone in the common room turned to look at Ron.

"Crookshanks!" Hermione chased Crookshanks all the way out of the girls' dormitory and ran right into an angry Ron.

"Control your stupid cat!" Ron said angrily, reaching out to swing his bag next to his chair at the approaching Crookshanks. "Didn't you say you'd keep him locked up?"

"Don't hurt him—but he can't stay in the small dormitory room all the time! It's too depressing!" Hermione exclaimed. "I remember Scabbers used to be kept in a cage, wasn't he?"

"Because he was sick!" Ron yelled. "He needs more fresh air—get your stupid cat away from him!"

Hermione silently took Crookshanks back to the dormitory.

"When will that cat ever calm down..." Ron said resentfully to Harry, while comforting Scabbers in his pocket.

Looks like Ron was still in that phase where a rat was more important than a girlfriend.

\[Ding! The Good side quest has progressed]

\[Good Side Quest (3/7)]

\[3. Prevent Tom Riddle's servant from gaining freedom]

\[Reward: 1000 Goodwill Points, Animagus Form Imitator (choose one bloodline as the source)]

\[Ding! The Evil side quest has progressed]

\[Evil Side Quest (3/7)]

\[3. Provide the necessary materials for Tom Riddle's resurrection]

\[Reward: 1000 Evil Points, Animagus Form Imitator (choose one bloodline as the source)]

Two identical rewards?

Then I'll take two!

"Did the medicine you bought from the shop work?" Cohen suddenly asked Ron.

"Maybe," Ron said, frowning. "But it could also be because of that crazy cat. Scabbers is still listless."

"Should I help you check other shops for medicine to treat pet depression?" Cohen said. "I've raised quite a few magical creatures these past two years, and the Earl often goes to various shops to buy medicine and things like that."

"That would be great—but could you maybe pick something cheap?" Ron said hesitantly. "I can't afford... I mean, what you feed the Earl is owl pellets that cost a Galleon a bag..."

"It's on me. Scabbers has been with you for so long, he deserves better medicine," Cohen said with apparent affection.

Scabbers poked his head out of Ron's pocket, looking like he was touched by Cohen's words.

Cohen's lips curled into a smirk—hehehe, medicine for treatment? Not sending rat poison would already be considered nice.

The excuse about buying medicine was just a cover. Cohen wanted to get some "medicine" that he could track Scabbers with a marking charm, in case Scabbers ran away later and he lost his target, causing his plan to fail.

With a tracking method, Cohen could ensure that the task of "preventing Voldemort's servant from gaining freedom" would be perfectly completed—no matter where Peter fled, as long as Cohen knew his location, he could always find him.

But the Evil side quest was a bit of a headache.

Voldemort had gone into hiding, and Cohen didn't know when he would return—but he definitely would, because Cohen had promised him before that he would help him resurrect.

It's just that... Cohen didn't want to drag things out for too long.

---

On Wednesday afternoon, Cohen had no classes, so he stayed in the Room of Requirement.

"A tracking potion..." The Earl regarded what Cohen was researching with a hint of suspicion. "Sounds like something you just made up."

"Muggles have trackers, so why wouldn't wizards?" Cohen continued to rummage through the large pile of books in front of him, refusing to believe it. "There must be a way to mark a person's location on a map... someone's done it before, I just need to change the application..."

The book Cohen was currently reading was called *The Magic of Names*—it felt like James and his friends must have used this book as a reference when they made the Marauder's Map decades ago.

If he wanted to accurately track Peter Pettigrew, he just needed to enlarge the map and focus the marking magic on Peter alone.

The size of the map was also a problem. Too large, and it would be hard to pinpoint a specific location; too small, and he couldn't monitor all the places Peter might go.

Using a potion or spell to trap this kind of magic within Peter was a more reasonable method. This would reduce many complicated magical procedures and make it easier to monitor Peter's location.

"Ask the goat head?" the Earl tilted his head and asked. "Isn't the middle head of that Chimera you raised quite clever?"

"It knows potions?" Cohen was a little doubtful of this possibility.

The newest and fastest updates are on \[website address removed as per policy]!

...

As it turned out, the black goat indeed possessed a wealth of knowledge.

"Try the juice of Mooncalf vine and Whispernettle?" the black goat suggested to Cohen. "Three drops of juice and half a spoonful of dried Whispernettle powder, added to a raven's left eye..."

"You really know this stuff?" Cohen's eyes widened.

"Living for a long time naturally gives you more knowledge," the black goat explained to Cohen kindly.

"Roar..." the lion roared gloomily.

Because the Earl had flown up to the rafters on the roof, out of its reach, and it had just breathed a small puff of fire before being double-teamed by the goat and Cohen.

"First, add three drops of Mooncalf vine juice and a spoonful of powdered moonstone to a pot of clear water, stirring counterclockwise until the potion has a thick, paste-like consistency."

The black goat told Cohen the steps one by one.

"Add half a spoonful of dried Whispernettle powder, then stir clockwise seven times."

...

"Place a raven's left eye in the mixture and wait until the eyeball dissolves..."

After dozens of steps, the black goat finished the last one.

Cohen had all these materials—most of them were commonly used in Potions class, and some were the black goat's fur and powdered scales of a Long-Horned Dragon.

After the raven's eye dissolved, the entire potion turned into a bright blue, viscous "liquid" that looked poisonous.

"You can choose whether or not to add half a spoonful of Flobberworm mucus," the black goat added as Cohen prepared to pour the potion.

"It's optional? Is adding that to make Peter Pettigrew sick?" Cohen asked curiously.

"Not adding it is against the law," the black goat said. "Many wizarding potions require it—it can mark illegal users."

"Then let's not add it."

Cohen sealed the bottle.

He was the illegal user himself.

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