Who let this Dementor into Hogwarts!

Chapter 259 Mr. Flandre's Intelligence
Although Cohen said that even old men in their sixties and seventies need to pay attention to their appearance, Voldemort still insisted on his final appearance—a snake face, red eyes, no hair and no nose.

"Your XP is really weird," Cohen clicked his tongue. "No wonder you can't find a girlfriend..."

“I don’t need those useless things…” Voldemort said coldly. “What I need is deterrence—child…people are all afraid of the powerful, and only fear can make them loyal…”

“I tried my best to sculpt it like that. Luckily, there was a picture of you in the old newspaper, otherwise you would have had to stay next to me as a model first,” Cohen said. “By the way, what does your body look like after magical transformation? Is everything except your face human-like? Do you have a penis and an genital? Do you need snakes to replace your internal organs or…”

Cohen asked a barrage of questions about the body, including but not limited to whether the imitation of a snake should be accurate, and whether snake gallbladders and genitals, as well as other snake-specific parts, should be included...

"..."

Voldemort was silent for a short while.
"Let's do the rest of the body like a normal person..."

If Cohen's thoughts continue to wander, the first body he receives next week will turn into a strange creature with two penises, a scaly tail, and a poison sac.

"Come to the door of the 'Yes-Wish' shop at four o'clock next weekend." Cohen nodded. "I promise I'll make sure you understand everything clearly."

Cohen agreed readily, but Voldemort had a bad feeling—it had little to do with whether Cohen was sincere or not, but mainly because he was uneasy about the strange pattern that "anything involving Cohen seems to end badly."

It's as if this kid is cursed.

But whether Voldemort believed it or not made no difference to him; the body Cohen created for him didn't require any sacrifice.
-
The appointment with Voldemort was for next weekend, while Sirius Black's trial was scheduled for this weekend.

In other words, Cohen had a whole week to turn the Room of Requirement into an "alchemy human body manufacturing workshop".

After all, the props used were flesh and blood puppets, so Voldemort had to be given the feeling that "Cohen has worked very hard to make this body, and if you don't want it, you're disrespecting him."

Cohen waited until the end of this week, and finally the dog in the House of Requirement left, taking the mouse from Cohen's box with it.

It was 7:00 a.m. on Sunday morning in the corridor on the eighth floor.

Harry had just said goodbye to Sirius Black. As he watched Sirius walk into the headmaster's office, he felt a great fear in his heart, a fear that all of this would be like a dream, and that he would have to wake up and return to the Dursleys, to that house that could hardly be called a "home".

“With Dumbledore personally escorting them, there shouldn’t be any problems,” Cohen said to a worried Harry. “Don’t even think about wearing the Invisibility Cloak to follow them; they used Apparition in the past—”

“Harry, Dumbledore will win this case,” Hermione comforted Harry. “I’ve done some research; the Ministry of Magic has had several wrongful convictions, and the plaintiffs almost always won…”

"'Almost'?" Harry asked, his heart pounding. "What caused the failure?"

“Because someone in the jury used the Unforgivable Curse on that prisoner—but with Dumbledore around, Sirius won’t be in any danger because of a sneak attack…” Hermione said.

"Stop setting up false alarms..." Cohen said, pursing his lips. "Nothing was wrong until you guys finished talking..."

“They’ll be back after lunch.” Ron patted Harry on the shoulder. “My dad once said the longest trial he’d ever held was no more than half a day, and they’d be back in the afternoon.”

However, the comforting words had little effect on Harry, who was unable to concentrate on anything at the moment.

After failing to comfort Harry, Cohen left him to go back to the common room to brood, because Cohen still had to redecorate the Room of Requirement and bring Nico along—in the field of "how to make a room look like it was used for alchemy," Nico was much more skilled than Cohen.

"Equip it with a stove, a distillation flask, and beakers—a balance is also needed. Set up a 36-inch crucible on the south side, but don't use a pure gold one; it's not very useful." Nico, whose painting was leaning against the wall by Cohen, directed the changes to the Room of Requirement while checking them over. "A stove is fine, but don't put it too close to the crucible—and add a shelf for materials on the west side."

“I don’t see any of these things in your workshop…” Cohen frowned. “Isn’t this too crowded?”

“From a practical standpoint, these things could all be replaced with some simple spells or instruments from my workshop,” Nico said. “But you said you wanted it to look more like an ‘alchemy workshop’ in the eyes of a layman—with a star chart hanging on the top, since alchemy and astrology are closely related.”

Following Nico's instructions, Cohen asked the Room of Requirement to gradually change its appearance.

Finally, it became a small room filled with all kinds of metal experimental equipment and carving tools, crammed full of all kinds of instruments, and equipped with a small bed in the corner.

It looks as if Cohen has been busy here for many days.

“It feels very good.” Cohen nodded in satisfaction and placed the flesh puppet on a test table.

Cohen molded it into the shape of a shirtless Voldemort, tall and thin, with pale, bloodless skin, only two thin slit-like nostrils where the nose should be, and long, narrow pupils with bloodshot whites.

To fit his bald character design, Cohen did not add any hair to this body.

“Very good!” Cohen crossed his arms and examined the details of the body.

It looks exactly like a normal body.

"What is this? A puppet?" Nico asked, as the puppet was moved to the table. "But it looks more malleable than a regular alchemical puppet."

"This is the body prepared for Voldemort."

Cohen smiled crookedly.
"But that's not wrong either, it's a puppet."

Preparation time is always much shorter than expected, while waiting time is always much longer than expected—especially since Cohen received no new news in the remaining week besides Sirius being exonerated, and even the Earl hadn't flown back. However, Cohen could sense that the magical contract with the owl was still intact, so the Earl should still be alive.

Sirius said he'd bring me to stay at his house for my birthday!

At breakfast on the second Sunday, Harry received a letter from Sirius Black and excitedly told Hermione and Ron.
“At number 12 Grimmauld Place—where is that?” Harry asked as he read the letter.

“It seems to be some neighborhood in London,” Hermione recalled. “Are there wizards living there?”

“Is this the Black family’s ancestral home?” Ron said. “I remember the Black family is in London, but my family doesn’t seem to have much of a connection with them, just some distant relatives we don’t see often… But why did he wait until the end of July to pick you up? I thought you were going to move there and stay for a long time.”

“Maybe he’s going to clean the house,” Hermione guessed. “After all, no one’s lived there for twelve years, hasn’t they?”

“Maybe…” Harry said, continuing to read the letter. “He said I could invite some friends over—Cohen, would you like to come with me over there this summer?”

"can."

Cohen thought of something—

Voldemort's locket is still in the Black family's old house, in Kreacher's possession.

However, since Kreacher couldn't refuse Sirius's request, the locket wasn't too difficult to get.

It looks like I'll have to go during the summer vacation.

"Look—the Earl is carrying something!" Ron suddenly looked up and saw something strange.

The Earl followed the flock of owls carrying messages and packages into the hall, but what he carried was clearly larger than the packages carried by the other owls.

It was a basket, and inside was a large, black and white tuft of fur.

"Why did it bring Mr. Flandre here?" Cohen frowned.

Why not just relay the investigation results directly? Why bring the whole cat along?

"Something terrible has happened," the Earl said anxiously. "The cat isn't moving—Cohen, take a look."

It placed the basket containing Mr. Flandre on the table in front of Cohen, who had never seen it in such a hurry before.

Mr. Frondo was nestled in the basket, his body rising and falling with his breath, looking like he was sleeping soundly.

"Sick?" Harry recognized Mr. Frondo; the cat had left a deep impression on him.

However, this is the first time I've encountered such a quiet Mr. Flandre.

As a Dementor, Cohen could immediately tell what was wrong with Mr. Frondo.

Its soul is gone.

“It looks like it’s just asleep…” Ron poked Mr. Frondo’s butt—or maybe his head, since the fluffy ball of fur couldn’t tell which was the butt and which was the head.

“No.” Cohen frowned.

He could clearly feel the faint connection between Mr. Frondo's soul and body, a connection that could not continue if his soul disappeared.

Someone has grasped its essence.

"Where is von Braun?" Cohen asked the Earl in a low voice.

"He's gone! Isn't that obvious?" the Count said anxiously. "What happened to Frando? Can you tell? Can he be saved?"

"Resurrect?" Harry asked, puzzled. "I thought Mr. Frond wouldn't die—"

“But it is indeed dead now.” Cohen looked at the cat.

The only connection between Wernher von Braun and the silver key is how the silver key found a Dementor and made it attack a cat.
Dementors don't have any thoughts about animals—Cohen, as a member of the Dementor group, had already found out many things.

This group seems to be preparing to do something big... or perhaps they've been planning something big for a long time.

　Something came up in real life today, so I'll just post one chapter and take a break.

　　My dad got scammed by some trashy game ad and wouldn't listen to advice. I helped him delete it, but he secretly downloaded it again and insisted on filling out all sorts of information to get that 100,000 yuan reward. It made me have a heart attack (mainly because his "You don't understand, don't worry about me" made me feel a bit overwhelmed).

　　I'll start updating more tomorrow once I've adjusted my mood.
　　
　
(End of this chapter)