Who let this Dementor into Hogwarts!

Chapter 285 Silver Key, Your Master Wants to Cause Trouble Now, Don't You Want to Join In?

"?"

Lucius's eyes widened in disbelief.

Huh? Kill Fudge? So direct...?

The Dark Lord didn't mention seizing power outright... He only said to have the existing Death Eaters parade around and drop a Dark Mark over the camp to see who the real traitors were.

"Is this... the Dark Lord's will?" Lucius asked cautiously.

“No, this is what I mean,” Cohen said.

What does Cohen mean?
The Dark Lord said that Cohen is now his most trusted collaborator. Although he may not be able to bring the Death Eaters into the fold, he is definitely on the Dark Lord's side.

The one I trust most...

Does that mean... Cohen's meaning is the Dark Lord's meaning?
“But the Minister of Magic has many protectors…” Lucius was somewhat aware of the capabilities of the current Death Eaters. “Isn’t this…”

"Does it matter whether you can win or not?" Cohen raised his eyebrows. "You don't actually need to kill anyone in this attack—it's me who's planning to kill Fudge."

“But you also want to… I mean…” Lucius asked cautiously, bending over, “The Dark Lord said you want to hide your identity…”

“Yes, that’s why I came to find you.” Cohen nodded. “Give me one of your Death Eater masks.”
-
Lucius was initially reluctant to give it up—to be honest, murdering the Minister of Magic and organizing a Death Eater parade are not even in the same league; if Fudge were to get into trouble, the Ministry of Magic would definitely be thrown into chaos—

Moreover, Lucius spent a lot of money on bribes to Fudge, and it had only been a few years since Fudge took office... If he died, all the money Lucius had invested would have been wasted.

But what could he do? Voldemort treated this kid like a son, and even if the plan to "attack the Minister of Magic" were stuffed under Voldemort's nose, Voldemort wouldn't object much.

Because the only person Voldemort was afraid of was Dumbledore—if Cohen hadn't suddenly changed his personality and wanted to join Dumbledore's side.

“If you go in person…” Lucius wanted to offer a further suggestion—for the sake of his investment, “what if it gets discovered? Perhaps by Dumbledore or…”

“I won’t be found out,” Cohen said with absolute certainty. “I have a solid alibi…”

Whether he puts a dummy in the tent or leaves his own body in the tent while his soul floats out to assassinate someone, Cohen can perfectly disguise himself as a harmless sleepyhead in front of Edward.

So far, no one knows that Cohen can float away in spirit form. We just need to focus on explaining things to Dumbledore later.

After all, it was something Korn and Dumbledore had discussed giving Voldemort a Muggle body, but the fact that "Voldemort organized Death Eaters to attack the Minister of Magic" was clearly beyond Dumbledore's expectations.

Cohen will have to put on an act of "who knew a Muggle body could cause such a mess"—after all, Fudge hasn't gotten anywhere good since the Sirius Black incident.

Moreover, "you yourself agreed to give a Muggle body."

Dumbledore had no reason to blame them; the reason they "chose" to give Voldemort a Muggle body was that Voldemort would surely find a way to resurrect himself no matter what.

Inaction will only make the outcome worse.

After receiving the mask and hood from Lucius for the Death Eaters, Cohen stuffed them into his pocket.

Cohen has grown considerably taller now, and with the hood and mask on, he no longer looks like a child; at most, he's a rather short Death Eater.

"Then I'm leaving. You guys get ready. Try to make trouble as close as possible to the area where Fudge is staying—don't worry, once the Dark Mark is hung in the sky, those dead memories will attack the Aurors of the Ministry of Magic on their own."

Leaving Lucius's tent, Cohen strolled around in the opposite direction toward his own tent.

Along the way, Cohen saw a bunch of tents of all shapes and sizes. The camp was surrounded by all kinds of fancy "works" created by wizards, such as a Gothic hut-style tent with a banner that read "Salem Witch Academy", an Irish supporter tent covered with a thick layer of clover, and a Bulgarian supporter tent covered with Krum's headshot.

There was no indication that wizards were required to "tone it down" as the Ministry of Magic had suggested; this place had become a grand gathering for wizards to show off.

But before Cohen could even reach his own tent, a hand suddenly reached out and pulled him inside.

"Shh—hey hey hey, don't use your hands—no, use your mouth."

Just as Cohen was about to spit out a piece of soul as a warning, the other party quickly shushed him.

Cohen also saw who had suddenly "kidnapped" his family.

In the dimly lit tent, Wernher von Braun, pale-faced, was clutching Cohen's arm.

"What—" Cohen frowned and said, "Can't you just call me out openly—oh...is Silver Key here to watch the game too?"

“They’re here, but not to watch the game,” von Braun said nervously. “I heard their plan—they’re going to cause trouble here—”

"In my name?" Cohen raised his eyebrows.

“In your name,” Wernher von Braun said gravely, “I suggest we stop them as soon as possible…”

"What are they planning to do?" Cohen asked. "Who are they going to attack?"

“They’ll just pick a few ordinary wizarding houses to attack. Their only goal is to make a big fuss and then shout your name in front of everyone…” von Braun worried. “If this works, even if it has nothing to do with you, the Minister of Magic will definitely suspect you—it’s very dangerous.”

Whether others will suspect Cohen after the match is unknown, but the Minister of Magic certainly won't...

"Are they really that cowardly?" Cohen clicked his tongue.

"?"

Wernher von Braun looked at Cohen blankly.

No, shouldn't this make Cohen feel a little threatened?

Cohen seemed... a bit frustrated with Silver Key's plan.

“Where are they?” Cohen sighed. “I’ll go meet them; they really need to be taught a lesson.”

“Wait, wait a minute…” Wernher von Braun swallowed hard. “Are you thinking the same kind of ‘education’ as me? You’ll stop them from carrying out terrorist attacks, right?”

"More or less," Cohen said roughly. "Just tell me where they are and how many there are."

“The camp on the west side has a moon symbol hanging on the roof,” von Braun said. “There are five people inside… I’ve marked it for you.”

As he spoke, von Braun pulled out the crumpled list, on which several names were circled in green ink.

Besides the names circled in green ink, there were also some names marked with a cross in red ink—those were Silver Key members who had been confirmed dead. "Hey, didn't you bring your dad to the game?" Cohen suddenly realized that von Braun seemed to be alone in his tent.

“He’s here. He went to chat with someone in the Maurice tent next door,” von Braun said. “The old man in the Maurice family knows him very well… If we can’t stop the Silver Key… I’ll take him away from here as soon as the match is over.”

“Actually, leaving early is fine too,” Cohen said, tilting his head. “You don’t seem to really enjoy watching the games—or rather, you probably aren’t really interested in watching them anyway.”

“My dad wants to see it,” Wernbrun said. “Joshua used to love playing Quidditch and was the Seeker for Ravenclaw—it’s a shame my dad never had the chance to go to Hogwarts to see him play.”

“Joshua is… oh, your brother.” Cohen paused after hearing the name.

The Auror and Silver Key follower who was killed by Cohen in his first year.

“But so much time has passed and I haven’t heard from him at all. I feel like he might be dead.” Wernher von Braun sighed. “Luckily, my dad has started to confuse me with Joshua now, so I don’t have to waste any energy making up excuses for him…”

Cohen didn't say anything.

There was nothing that could be done; Joshua was ready to fight or kill Cohen the moment he saw him, and you couldn't expect Cohen to show mercy to someone who wanted to kill him.

"You should take your dad and leave as soon as the game is over," Cohen said.

Wernher von Braun gave Cohen a deep look.

“Okay,” von Braun said.

A short while later, just as Cohen was about to leave, an old man excitedly crawled into the tent.

“Joshua!” Old Mr. Wernbrun waved two flags in his hand, one for Bulgaria and one for Ireland. It was hard to tell which team the old man supported, or perhaps he didn't support either team and was simply suffering from dementia and couldn't distinguish between them. “I got you some flags; you can wave these with Philip later—”

"Okay, Dad." Wernher von Braun breathed a sigh of relief. When he heard the first sentence, he thought Joshua had returned. "You should rest for a while. You didn't sleep last night and you're still so energetic..."

Wernher von Braun took the flag, and Cohen originally planned to take the opportunity to slip away, but was caught red-handed by the old Wernher von Braun.

“Joshua, where are you going again?” Old Mr. Wernbrun said sternly. “You’re not allowed to patrol with those Aurors today—you just said yesterday that you weren’t scheduled for duty this time!”

"..." Cohen awkwardly felt himself being grabbed by the scruff of the neck—then he gave von Braun a look, signaling him to quickly help him out of the predicament—

Cohen didn't really want to provoke this somewhat confused old man.

“Dad, Joshua has something important to say,” Wernher von Braun whispered to his father. “It’s about that girl he met last time… He’s over thirty now, don’t interfere with his search for a girlfriend…”

“Oh…yes, yes, finding a girlfriend is a big deal…” Old Mr. Wernher von Braun immediately released his grip on Cohen’s collar. “Hurry up, hurry up—I’ve seen quite a few foreign women along the way, and they all…”

Cohen seized the opportunity to escape from the tent—the conversation inside quickly turned to his father urging him to get married, except that the focus of the discussion had shifted from "Joshua" to Philipp von Braun.

Cohen shook his head, finding it hard to imagine what would happen if Edward ended up like that—no, it didn't seem to make much difference.

Edward has now taken a step closer to becoming a fully-fledged "lying-down kid," because Dobby now cooks all the meals at home.

With Wernher von Braun's reminder, Cohen quickly found the tent with the silver key.

It was a gray, unassuming tent with only a moon model on top.

After confirming that this was the only tent with the moon shining over it in the entire western camp, Cohen walked in as if it were his own home.

It would be truly suspicious if someone sneaked in from outside, where there were wizards coming and going everywhere.

"Hello everyone—" Cohen was immediately stared at by five pairs of eyes as soon as he entered the tent.

Five identical bald men—to be honest, the names von Braun marked on the list were meaningless.

The tent was a spacious room with a round table in the middle. Five people sat around the table, and in the center was a large cauldron containing the remnants of a sticky, cement-like potion.

“Compound decoction? Couldn’t you pick something better-looking…” Cohen was somewhat dissatisfied with the object of their imitation.

This fierce-looking bald man didn't look like a good person at all; it felt like he would be caught and interrogated by the Aurors if he just walked around outside.

“You…you are…” Bald One looked at Cohen, then at the photo in his hand.

"Does it really have to be that perverted..." Cohen's lips twitched.

Do these people sleep with their own photos in their hands?

"My Lord!" The fanatical bald man number two immediately slid off his chair and crawled toward Cohen with a fervent look. "You have finally arrived—may I kiss your robe—"

"You were a Death Eater before, weren't you?!" Cohen said, glaring at him. He immediately pulled open his robes—several Silver Keys with Death Eater records had already tried to kiss his robes. What kind of monsters had Voldemort turned these people into?!

“The Lord hasn’t woken up yet…” The composed bald man, Number Three, stood up. “Lord, I know you misunderstand everything we’ve done, but you just need to wait… until it’s all over, you will understand—”

"Understand what? Your plans after the game?" Cohen took a step inside, but bypassed the guy who was still lying on the ground trying to kiss Cohen's robe.

“You know…” Baldy Number Three narrowed his eyes, “But… who is it—”

"Boss, shouldn't we..." the timid bald-headed Number Four asked Number Three.

Bald Number Five had already collapsed on the ground unconscious—but Cohen felt that Number Five was faking his death.

“He is loyal,” Cohen said coldly. “And you… you’ve disappointed me a bit.”

“You don’t understand how all of this will end,” Bald Number Three said breathlessly. “Those were just illusions, feigned loyalty. We were the ones who…we were the ones who wanted to wake you up…we thought you were still here…”

“No.” Cohen took a step closer. “What I’m talking about is…why is your plan so simplistic, narrow-minded, and full of fear?”

“There are so many people here, wizards from all over the world, wizards from all walks of life, nobles and commoners, birds perched on branches and rats burrowing into the ground…” Cohen continued, “and you intend to use rats as offerings to me?”

"!"×5
The bald men looked at Cohen in disbelief, and even the bald man number five, who had been pretending to be dead, struggled to raise his head.

Huh? The Lord has awakened? He's become enlightened?

He is finally going to...

“The first sacrifice I want is that person standing at the top of the hall, Cornelius Fudge,” Cohen said coldly. “Don’t try to fool me with those insignificant nobodys.”

(End of this chapter)