Who let this Dementor into Hogwarts!

Chapter 305 Fudge: How can we play when there are enemies everywhere?
"This one……"

Karkarov said,
"Let Dumbledore speak—I'm not really sure myself..."

"Not quite sure? Hmm?" Moody said with disgust. "Where did your arrogance go when you were criticizing Dumbledore? Was it because it involved your secret little schemes? Or are you afraid of exposing your sycophantic ways—"

“Alastor!” Dumbledore stopped Moody from becoming rude.

Then, Dumbledore looked at Cohen.

"Cohen's opinion should also be sought on this matter. Regardless of the reason, I believe that the revelation of this matter will have some negative impact on his life."

“I am a half-Dementor,” Cohen said calmly.

In fact, only Ms. Maxim in the entire room didn't know.

"What?" Ms. Maxim thought she had misheard some English. "Half what?"

“Dementors,” Crouch repeated for Cohen, “the guards who watch over Azkaban.”

“I remember they are non-existent.” Ms. Maxim’s brow furrowed even more. “Humans cannot have offspring with non-existent beings, so how did he come into being?”

“A dark magic experiment—this was news that should have been kept under wraps to avoid causing panic in the wizarding world,” Crouch said in a calm tone.

“Isn’t it obvious he did it?” Karkaroff’s voice was no longer as steady as before. “Who else would add a ‘—’ before their name?”

"Is your suspicion based solely on his lineage?" Madam Maxim suddenly changed her stance, turning to Karkaroff in a loud, unnatural voice. "As Dumbledore said, there is currently insufficient evidence."

“Because someone wants him exposed,” Moody said menacingly to Karkaroff. “Someone wants to create panic. Someone used a superb Confusion Charm to trick a powerful magical artifact, partly to kill Harry Potter in the tournament, and partly to expose Korn Norton’s dangerous identity and spread fear—you know, Karkaroff, you used to be quite the expert at this…”

"You mean I did this?" Karkaroff said, his bravado masking his fear. "Ha, what a novel theory. Of course, Professor Moody would have felt his morning was wasted if he hadn't discovered the six men plotting to murder him before lunch."

“My job is to think like a dark wizard, Karkaroff. You shouldn’t forget how I—”

Professor McGonagall tugged at Moody's shoulder, stopping him from revealing Karkaroff's secrets for the second time.

"The Goblet of Fire has just been extinguished and will not be reignited until the next Triwizard Tournament," Dumbledore said. "Bound by the magical contract, we have no choice but to accept this outcome, so the chosen ones must participate in the tournament."

"So, is it something that needs to be made public that his school was classified as 'Azkaban'?" Ms. Maxim pointed at Cohen. "Competing as a fourth-party school? If you consider that prison as a 'school'."

“Since it’s written there, we have to follow it,” Crouch said rigidly.

“That won’t do,” Fudge interrupted. “A fighter from Azkaban will cause a media frenzy, and our ministry won’t be able to explain it—”

“I remember Cohen had a relative who was sentenced to life imprisonment,” Crouch said. “Herbert Burke, except his sentence was changed to life guarding the ruins of Burke Estate.”

“I remember this,” Moody said gruffly. “It was Amelia who handled it, and the man was very cooperative in admitting his guilt.”

“We announced publicly that the Goblet of Fire detected this relationship, thus misjudging it as a fourth-party school,” Crouch said. “This would be beneficial both in terms of improving the fairness of the competition and in preventing malicious media hype.”

“It seems this is the only way,” said Dumbledore. “If there are no objections—” “Then what about Harry Potter?” asked Karkaroff. “Hogwarts still has two champions—”

“That kid is only fourteen years old. He’ll have to fight tooth and nail just to survive!” Moody roared.

“If you have any other better solutions, I’m all ears, Igor,” Dumbledore said.

Karkarov didn't say anything more.

“Let’s arrange it that way then,” Crouch said. “Tomorrow, please gather the five warriors and begin the first round of project instruction.”

Just after Karkaroff and Maxim left, Crouch intended to leave with Fudge—but Fudge, who was suddenly jolted awake from his daze, abruptly stopped.

“You can’t leave.” Fudge grabbed Cohen, who was about to return to his dorm.

"Hmm?" Cohen tilted his head and looked at the "Minister of Magic" who seemed preoccupied, as if he was being worn down by public opinion.

“It’s late, Cornelius,” Dumbledore reminded him.

“Minister, the matter has been resolved,” Crouch said.

“He knows about his connection to the Dementors,” Fudge said. “Maybe he’s involved in the Dementor uprising—”

“Slander without evidence, Minister!” Professor McGonagall roared. “Those Dementors are dangerous enough; what does that have to do with Cohen? Dumbledore has warned you more than once—”

Cohen didn't actually incite the Dementors to riot—if he had, what happened in Azkaban wouldn't have been a riot, but rather the Dementors collectively running away from home.

“Minerva, calm down,” Dumbledore said. “But Connelly, as far as I know, you’ve been monitoring the Cohens. If you find any evidence, you can formally prosecute them.”

Fudge racked his brains but couldn't come up with a way to frame Cohen, because Cohen hadn't been to Azkaban all summer, and the farthest he'd ever gone was to watch a Quidditch match.

Even Crouch wasn't on his side.

"The minister has been experiencing some mental health issues lately due to the attacks and public opinion," Crouch apologized to everyone after seeing Fudge off.

Although Crouch seemed to be on his side throughout the game, Cohen had a nagging feeling that something was off.

Given Crouch's character of hating evil and being willing to betray even his own family, why would he repeatedly help himself, a highly suspicious dark magic experiment subject?
“I understand,” Dumbledore said. “Then…”

He patted Cohen on the shoulder and said with a smile:

“Go back and get some rest, Cohen. I’m sure the Gryffindor students are all waiting for you and Harry to celebrate together—if I’m not mistaken, Harry should be waiting for you on the stairs to the right of the Great Hall right now.”

“Keep an eye on him, kid.” Moody patted Cohen on the back, and the one good eye blinked rapidly.

Clearly, Dumbledore had told Moody part of the story—so that Moody wouldn't deduce Cohen's involvement in front of others.

(End of this chapter)