Who let this Dementor into Hogwarts!

Chapter 280 What is this? A Slytherin locket? (Slurp)

Cohen's letter to Voldemort and Lucius certainly didn't explicitly say "Let's go and take down the Ministry of Magic." Voldemort didn't have any real power at the moment, and Lucius was in a state of indecision.

He simply expressed his thoughts that "summer vacation is too boring, are there any exciting and violent activities I can participate in?"

However, Voldemort did not disappoint Cohen; a reply arrived the day after the Earl delivered the letter.

"Damn it, I can't even tell if I'm a good bird or a bad bird anymore!"

The count returned and said uneasily,

"I'm delivering a message to Voldemort!"

"Alright, alright, I know you're delivering a message to Voldemort," Cohen said dismissively. "Don't be arrogant."

“When have I ever been arrogant?!” the count retorted. “I originally intended to mold you into a positive and motivated Dementor—but you’ve completely become…”

"He's become more positive and optimistic." Cohen nodded. "Voldemort wants me to meet him at the northernmost part of the camp after the Quidditch World Cup..."

"What are you meeting up for?" The count had a bad feeling. "Is it going to be a massacre?"

“He’s not that bold,” Cohen sighed.

"So you actually wanted to carry out a massacre?!" The count's eyes widened.

“You were supporting me last night to burn the Ministry of Magic to the ground,” Cohen accused. “You hypocrite—”

“What I support is you replacing Fudge—” the Earl corrected, “not replacing everyone in the world with Dementors.”

“Killing people is much easier than managing them,” Cohen said. “I’m not as eager to be Minister of Magic as I used to be—I feel like Edward would be more comfortable as Minister than I would be. The effect is the same, and I can still be a rich kid and a government official’s son…”
-
After destroying Voldemort's reply, Cohen packed his bags a little—because Harry had invited him to Number Twelve Grimmauld Place the day before.

However, this "visiting" is clearly not so normal.

The environment inside 12 Grimmauld Place has become so dirty and disorderly that it is "deeply entrenched".

"You beast! You slut! You filthy and sinful bastard!"

As Cohen entered, two velvet curtains riddled with wormholes in the foyer suddenly opened automatically, revealing a huge portrait painting behind them.

That was an old woman in a black hat screaming desperately:
"Bastard! Freak! Ugly freak! Get out of here! How dare you defile my ancestral home—"

Harry immediately lunged toward the side of the painting, trying to pull the curtain back up—but he couldn't budge it.

The painting was strange—it seemed to be protected by many spells to prevent it from being taken down, and Cohen's magic had no effect on either the painting or the curtain.

Therefore, the only solution is to place a ring of soundproofing spells around the painting.

But this mad painting wasn't the most unsettling thing in the house. Upon entering the living room, the strange shadows hanging from the ceiling and the unknown creatures writhing behind the curtains were enough to make anyone who stepped inside turn around and leave immediately.

“That’s Sirius’s mother, she has a terrible temper, and we really tried our best,” Harry said despairingly after bringing Cohen inside. “But I feel like even if Sirius and I spent a whole semester cleaning up that vixen behind the curtains, we still wouldn’t be able to get rid of her…”

"At least the bedroom is a little cleaner now." Sirius, covered in a dusty robe, emerged from a room on the side of the living room. "Oh, Cohen, do you like the birthday present I gave you?" After half a year of recovery, Sirius's mental state had improved significantly.

First, he no longer harbored the same unwarranted hostility towards Cohen as he would towards a Dementor.

This made him slightly more agreeable to Cohen now.

“That’s good,” Cohen said. “But actually I probably won’t need the ‘replaceable black hood.’ When I’m a Dementor, those hoods are made of magical material and won’t get dusty.”

"I don't know, I haven't studied Dementors in detail," Sirius joked. "They either take a look from afar, or they're right face to face..."

“Cohen, I cleaned your room last night.” Harry helped Cohen carry his suitcase. “But I probably won’t be able to show you around the Black family mansion today—it’s too big, and I also invited Ron and Hermione, so I need to get their rooms cleaned up quickly…”

"It doesn't matter," Cohen waved his hand.

He wasn't here to chat with Harry—Cohen had more important things to do.

Although a new partnership was reached with Voldemort this morning, the betrayal still had to be carried out.

For example, the Slytherin locket now hidden in Black's old house.

If Cohen remembers correctly, this magical object, which Voldemort transformed into a Horcrux, was stolen by Sirius's brother Regulus and kept by Kreacher, the house-elf of the Black family.

As Harry led Cohen toward the guest room, Cohen ran into Kreacher as they passed through a corridor.

It was an elderly house-elf with a swollen nose, and it seemed to be incoherent.

"...It smells like some kind of monstrous creature from the gutter. A pureblood traitor, a filthy hybrid monster, a despicable old spendthrift, just escaped from prison and brought this bunch of brats to ravage my mistress's house... Oh, my poor mistress, if only she knew such scum had entered her home..."

“Kreacher,” Harry said, somewhat angrily—it was one thing for the house-elf to insult him normally… but to call him a “filthy half-blood monster” right in front of Cohen was just too awful.

Kreacher froze—it deliberately feigned surprise.

“Kreacher didn’t see the young master just now.” Kreacher bowed deeply to Harry. “He’s that wretched orphan that the old spendthrift adopted.”

"Why not consider getting a new house-elf?" Cohen asked, pursing his lips.

“Just leave it alone…” Harry pulled Cohen away quickly. “At least it can help sweep away the dust. The house is too big—although Sirius really wants to get rid of it. Whenever Sirius wants to throw away some old things he doesn’t want, Kreacher will secretly take it to his room.”

"Its room?" Cohen heard the key phrase. "Do house-elves even have rooms?"

“The closet next to the kitchen,” Harry said, “is full of piles of junk—I think you’d better not go there…”

Not going?

The only thing Cohen might find appealing in this room is that locket.

What is this? A Slytherin locket? Let me take a sip first.

(End of this chapter)