Who let this Dementor into Hogwarts!

Chapter 284 Attacking Muggles? How about we do something bigger—what do you think about attacking the Minister of Magic?
"But about the tents..." Edward glanced at the Weasley camp, which was still a mess of tents, "I've actually set them up a few times before, how about I help you..."

“No.” Mr. Weasley held up a finger and shook it firmly. “Edward, this time we have to do it the Muggle way. We’re on Muggle territory, so we have to set up the tent with our own hands—that’s how Muggles do it—by the way, Edward, do you know where this thing should end up? Like a brick to weigh down the tent?”

Mr. Weasley, ever the inquisitive one, pointed to the hammer and asked Edward about the functions of the various interesting gadgets.

“At least Arthur has a strong learning ability,” Edward said to Cohen as they arrived at their camp. “He’s just as quick to learn as your mother—do you even know how to pitch a tent?”

Edward took off his backpack—which contained the tent they would be staying in for the next few days.

"?"

Cohen's eyes widened.
"You don't know how? Then why have you been teaching Mr. Weasley for so long?!"

“I can’t just tell him I don’t know how, can I…” Edward said, his eyes darting around. “How could a wizard who’s been in Muggle society for over a decade not know how to pitch a tent…”

"..." Cohen said, his voice strained. "How could I possibly—you expect me to be able to pitch a tent the moment I was born?"

"Then how about we just sleep in your suitcase?" Edward came up with a solution. "We just need to prop up a small section of the tent fabric—"

“No way,” Cohen immediately refused.

There's a whole army of undead doing infrastructure work inside the box. If Edward saw that, he'd be scared half to death.

"?" Edward asked, puzzled.

“They’re doing renovations,” Cohen said. “You can’t go in. Norbert’s throwing a tantrum over the renovations. You’ll get hurt if you go in. It’s just setting up tents. If it’s really necessary, we’ll just prop up a cloak with sticks…”

Although Cohen had never learned how to pitch a tent, things that don't involve math or mechanics are still easy to figure out.

Cohen and Edward figured out the exact location of the screws and supports in just half an hour.

They set up a light blue tent with a pointed roof, a color scheme that Cohen felt was more suited to a circus than a camp.

Like the other wizards' tents, this one had a complete three-room suite, and the air was filled with the scent of lavender—because Rose had washed everything inside.

On the coffee table in the tent's living room was a photograph of a young couple wearing pointed wizard hats, seemingly traveling on broomsticks.

"Who is that?" Cohen didn't see any resemblance between the person in the photo and Edward and Rose.

“Your grandparents.” Edward headed straight for the kitchen, intending to quickly finish the breakfast he had thrown up that morning. “Martha doesn’t need it anymore, but we needed it for this trip, so I borrowed it… Do you think house-elves can teleport directly from their homes to here? I think your mother might have—forgot to put the food in.”

"Try shouting 'Dobi'."

Cohen said,
"If there's really no food, I can get you a sheep from the box..."

While Edward was tinkering in the kitchen, Cohen opened the bedroom door.

There is a two-story four-poster bed here, and Cohen and Edward can each have one floor—the living environment is quite comfortable.

Cohen stuffed the box under the bed, and a moment later, a slight popping sound came from the kitchen next door.

Then, Dobby's shrill voice rang out.

“Yes, sir!” Dobby said. “Dobby will be right back with breakfast!”

House-elves can indeed hear their owners' calls from a great distance, a mechanic that's even more useful in battle than the Earl.

Edward probably doesn't need any help anymore, so Cohen should start getting busy with some "real business."

“I’m going out for a walk,” Cohen said as he passed the kitchen. “To make some friends.” “Go ahead, go ahead! Making friends is good,” Edward said happily. “If you meet anyone you like, remember to bring them back for me to see. I’ll cover for you—”

"I don't have a girlfriend," Cohen replied with a smirk.

Leaving the tent, Cohen glanced at the Weasleys' camp. Harry and Hermione had already finished setting up. Sirius led Harry back to the Black family's camp, which was right next to the Weasleys' camp. Sirius's tent was clearly much more luxurious than the tent the Weasleys had borrowed.

Not every wizard's tent is a three-story building with a garden fountain.

But Cohen had no intention of going that way—his goal was the northernmost part of the camp area.

Voldemort said they would meet after the match, but Cohen wanted to see if he could run into Lucius—to get involved in the plan ahead of time.

Cohen knew who they were targeting—a few Muggle families lived in this camp, because this area was Muggle territory.

Torture of Muggles is one of the Death Eaters' specialties.

However, Cohen's plan was to help these Death Eaters find a better, more valuable, and more self-fulfilling target to attack.

such as……

"Cohen."

Lucius had just seen the Flint family off when he spotted a familiar little figure.

He lowered his voice and looked around—luckily, only his group of Death Eaters remained in the northern camp, so Cohen's appearance wouldn't attract any unnecessary attention.

"What's wrong? Come in and talk..."

With that, Lucius pulled Cohen and quickly crawled into the tent.

Draco Malfoy was still idly poking at a crystal ball with his wand in the tent when he saw Cohen walk in, and immediately jumped up nervously.

“Draco, go for a walk,” Lucius said sternly.

"I know, I know..." Little Malfoy practically ran out for his life—he knew that Cohen's arrival must mean something serious, especially since the Dark Lord was now living in his house.

The Dark Lord spoke highly of Cohen, which Malfoy couldn't understand at all—and dared not continue to associate with this monstrous "classmate."

"Is something wrong?" Lucius asked Cohen nervously. "The Dark Lord said we should only meet up with him after the match is over..."

"Where is Voldemort?" Cohen looked around, seemingly trying to find Voldemort in the tent—but it was obvious that Voldemort wouldn't risk coming here.

“The Dark Lord doesn’t need to come in person…” Lucius said. “I and the other Death Eaters will suffice.”

"Who are your targets?" Cohen said. "Have you decided? I've come up with a few..."

“The few Muggle families living here,” Lucius said, “we think this is quite typical…”

“Death Eater behavior,” Cohen continued. “Did Voldemort know this? Your first attack was just to torture a few Muggles?”

“No, I don’t know…” Lucius said, “The Dark Lord… only allowed us to use the Dark Mark to summon the Death Eaters in a procession…”

"Muggles are too cheap." Cohen, who doesn't hold grudges, shook his head in disapproval. "It's as unimpressive as crushing ants. I suggest we do something big—what do you think of the Minister of Magic?"

(End of this chapter)