"Quirrell? Cohen?"
Harry felt his heart stop—a suffocating sensation spread from his throat throughout his entire body.
"I thought… Snape…"
Harry's words stumbled out clumsily. Quirrell's bald head, revealed after he removed his turban, and the familiar yet terrifying face on the back of it…
No, wait—the Earl said Cohen had been kidnapped.
Right, Cohen *was* kidnapped…
"Hiss—" Harry clutched the lightning-shaped scar on his forehead in pain.
Quirrell stayed silent for the moment, instinctively waiting for Cohen to speak.
But Cohen didn't say anything either—he'd entered advanced acting mode. Alongside Harry's arrival came that "wind" with a soul strength of 99.
Dumbledore had rushed back and was now watching the scene unfold from the front row.
"You're…" Harry locked eyes with Voldemort through the reflection in the mirror, his scar burning painfully.
"Voldemort," Cohen said, standing beside Quirrell and gesturing toward him for Harry's benefit. "So, he's the one trying to steal the Philosopher's Stone."
"Cohen, come here quick—we can—" Harry urgently beckoned to Cohen. "They're the bad guys!"
"Harry… you don't think I forced your friend to stand on my side, do you?" Voldemort seemed to relish the stunned expression on Harry's face.
"Your friend Cohen… has been with me all along…"
"No way!" Harry retorted with remarkable courage. "You won't hurt my friends!"
"Cohen… go… grab him… use him…" Voldemort sneered coldly.
Dumbledore was still observing, and Cohen went along with Voldemort's orders—otherwise, he wouldn't get the Philosopher's Stone.
"Cohen, don't…" Harry pleaded in anguish as Cohen pointed his wand at him—
Cohen knew far more spells than Harry, and Harry had no way to counter them.
"Sorry, Harry," Cohen said kindly.
"Immobulus!"
A rope shot out like a snake from the tip of Cohen's wand, binding Harry tightly.
"Cohen! We can't help him!" Harry said desperately.
"Who are you planning to defeat with just words?"
Cohen asked Harry calmly, pulling him in front of the mirror.
To Voldemort, this sounded like a mocking jab at Harry's overconfidence—but to Harry and the hidden Dumbledore, it seemed like Cohen was hinting that two young wizards couldn't take on Voldemort with brute force…
"Look in the mirror. Can you get the Philosopher's Stone out?"
Cohen gave Harry a nudge, releasing the bindings once Harry stood before the mirror.
"What do you see?" Quirrell asked Harry anxiously. "Tell me, what do you see!"
"I—I see myself shaking hands with Dumbledore," Harry lied. Cohen noticed something heavy drop into the right pocket of Harry's pants. "I won the House Cup for Gryffindor…"
"Liar!" Voldemort screeched. "He's got the Philosopher's Stone! Take it!"
Quirrell lunged at Harry, trying to grab the stone from him—
Harry was knocked to the ground, but Quirrell, the aggressor, didn't fare well either. His hands blistered as if scorched the moment they touched Harry.
"Ah!!! Master—I can't hold him—my hands—"
Quirrell let out a pained scream, forced to let go of Harry and retreat.
"Cohen!" Voldemort barked at him—but Cohen was already planning to act.
Cohen pinned Harry down and fished the Philosopher's Stone out of his pocket.
"No—Cohen, you can't—"
Harry struggled, but his strength was no match for Cohen's. After all, Cohen had grown up eating healthier than Harry ever had.
[Ding! Successfully prevented Harry Potter from obtaining the Philosopher's Stone. Evil side quest (1/7) completed. Sin Points +1000. Reward "Frost Lament" now available for claiming.]
After grabbing the stone, Cohen suddenly felt an odd sensation.
The Philosopher's Stone in his hand… seemed to have some strange connection to him.
It was as if he could absorb it into his body like he did with souls—if Cohen willed it, the stone could gradually merge with him. It was already embedding itself into his palm.
The plan had changed. Now Cohen had a new "Philosopher's Stone heist" idea that would give him the moral high ground.
"Run," Cohen whispered into Harry's ear while they tussled.
"But—" Harry started to protest, but Cohen was already getting up.
"Quick… Cohen, give me the stone…" Voldemort demanded.
But Cohen didn't move.
Harry took a deep breath—he had to escape with Cohen and the stone.
The plan worked perfectly. Cohen could sense the room brimming with relief.
Harry was relieved that his friend hadn't betrayed him, Dumbledore was relieved that Cohen hadn't truly sided with Voldemort, and Voldemort was relieved that Cohen had taken the stone from Harry.
Everyone won in that moment. Cohen figured the system ought to award him 10,000 goodwill points for this.
"Give it to you?" Cohen didn't step toward Voldemort. "In your dreams."
"Cohen, run!" Harry reached the doorway and turned back to urge Cohen—the flames blocking the exit had vanished at some point.
Voldemort wasn't surprised—Cohen had mentioned earlier that he'd use the killing curse on him to clear his name.
"Kill him!" Voldemort roared at Quirrell.
Cohen bolted for the door—if Quirrell wasn't a complete idiot, the killing curse would hit.
"Avada Kedavra!"
"No!" Harry watched the green light strike Cohen's back—it was like the nightmares he'd had of his parents being killed by that same green flash.
Dumbledore, watching from the sidelines, didn't think the spell could harm Cohen—he'd seen one-year-old Cohen survive hundreds of killing curses unscathed.
As Quirrell turned his attention to Harry, who stood in front of Cohen's "corpse," Dumbledore materialized at the room's entrance.
Voldemort's smug expression—convinced he'd won—froze instantly. In less than half a second, he abandoned Quirrell's body and fled. The Philosopher's Stone didn't matter anymore—escape was the priority.
Quirrell, abandoned by Voldemort, collapsed immediately. His soul and body had been devoured by Voldemort for too long; without him, Quirrell would die soon.
"Professor Dumbledore?" Harry, already in tears, saw Dumbledore appear at last and pleaded, "Please save Cohen—he just—Quirrell hit him with a spell… he's not moving…"
Harry didn't know what Avada Kedavra meant, but Cohen's body had gone cold at lightning speed.
Dumbledore cast a sleeping charm on Harry to spare him further distress—he needed to check on Cohen. Why wasn't Cohen getting up yet?
"Cohen, get up. Voldemort's gone. Nothing will hurt you now."
When Dumbledore realized that Cohen might *actually* have been killed by that Avada Kedavra, a rare sense of things spiraling out of control washed over him.
Cohen's body was now just a lifeless shell, devoid of a soul. Dumbledore couldn't find any sign that Cohen was still alive.
Floating nearby in an invisible spirit form, Cohen observed Dumbledore's expression.
This was the first time Cohen had ever seen Dumbledore look truly terrified.
*Note: I'll resume two chapters until release, then switch to three chapters daily after release. Otherwise, there'd be too many words before release, and the site might flag it for an inverted-V. That'd turn the free chapters after 150,000 words into paid ones, which wouldn't be ideal…*
(End of Chapter)