Who let this Dementor into Hogwarts!

Chapter 364 Greek Hodgepodge

After seeing Edward and Herbert off, Cohen arrived at Hagrid's cabin.

Only one of those blast-tailed snails remained, seemingly experiencing some kind of loneliness known as "the last one left of its kind," perched on Hagrid's pumpkin, contemplating its life—

However, Cohen was unsure whether it possessed the capacity for such thought, and it was also possible that it was simply dead.

“Excellent performance, Cohen!” Hagrid said happily. “First place! You’re much better than the students from the other schools—I dare say Beauxbatons and Durmstrang aren’t very happy… at least Maxim isn’t showing up much these days…”

“Just a coincidence, just a coincidence—what are you going to teach next class?” Cohen asked Hagrid with a regretful tone. “The Bombtail Project failed?”

“Oh, I guess it was a failure…” Hagrid sighed. “I was actually planning to cultivate some new things for you guys—but Hermione and Harry warned me that quite a few people think my classes… well… are scary…”

"Is it really not because of the mass student absences last week?"

Cohen asked suspiciously.

“Maybe…” Hagrid stammered. “Hermione suggested I teach some kind and lovely magical creatures, so I wanted to ask for your opinion—why don’t you come with me? I’ll show you some of the animals I’ve prepared; they’re all quite interesting.”

Cohen nodded and was led by Hagrid to the edge of an enclosure in the Forbidden Forest.

Many skinny winged black horses roam here; all the Thestrals of Hogwarts have gathered here.

“Thestrals are actually alright,” Cohen nodded, “but I don’t think they’re suitable as a species for transitioning from ‘terrifying’ to ‘cute’…”

“Aren’t they beautiful?” Hagrid looked at the Thestrals with loving eyes.

A Thestral spotted Cohen and trotted towards him, attempting to lick Cohen's face a few times—

“You never learn…” Cohen pushed its head away, because Cohen had just seen it tearing at a piece of bloody flesh hanging on a tree, its tongue covered in blood and smelling of fish.

“They’re so friendly and beautiful,” Hagrid said. “No one could dislike them—”

“Putting aside their appearance, they are still seen as symbols of misfortune and death by students. I don’t recommend using them as a transitional teaching method; we should replace them with something else,” Cohen said.

"Horned beast?" Hagrid asked.

“A bit Cthulhu-esque, next one.” Cohen shook his head. “Let’s get something furry.”

"A griffin?" Hagrid asked. "It's furry—"

"..."

Cohen pursed his lips.

"It sees people as furry and wants to scratch them to death with one claw—maybe we should teach the unicorns instead, and I can have them make a cameo appearance."

Hagrid seemed to find unicorns far less interesting than horned beasts or griffins.

However, Hagrid ultimately chose the unicorns, and Cohen promised to bring them over for a walk around the forest the next day—as long as they were still conscious.

"Wait a minute... does Hogwarts have griffins?" Cohen suddenly thought of a very serious question.

This species should not exist in the Forbidden Forest.

“I found it a while ago when I was looking for the culprit who attacked the Thestral pack for UU (Hagrid's favorite Thestral),” Hagrid said. “It probably felt threatened by the Thestral pack, but after I gave it some food, it calmed down a lot…”

The griffin, with its body and head, is also a mythical creature native to Greece. Cohen suddenly didn't feel like thinking about it anymore…

"Would you like to go and see it?" Hagrid asked with great interest. "Maybe you can become friends with it just like you became friends with Aragog—"

"I suddenly remembered I still have homework to do—Hagrid, I'll look at it later, I need to go back and finish it..."

"But isn't today Monday?"
-

Cohen, of course, did not return to the lounge to do his homework—in fact, Professor Flitwick had not assigned any homework for the morning's Charms class.

Cohen returned to the Room of Requirement and went straight to the box.

Those who steal snake eggs truly deserve to die. I remember I used to have a nest like that, and someone wanted to dig out the jewels from my chicks' heads, so they tried to steal my eggs—but none of their plans succeeded, guess what…

The old water snake was having a long talk with Hisoko about his egg-protecting methods, including but not limited to calling Chimeramon, Chimeramon, and Chimeramon.

"You seem quite proud of your incompetence," the long-horned water snake said helplessly.

"If only I had such a talented kid back then..." Sissoko sighed.

"Excuse me," Cohen interrupted them. "I have something to ask you."

"What's wrong, my dear grandson?" the old water snake asked affectionately.

"Why am I being treated like a snake's son again?" Sissoko fumed. "Old snake monster, you keep doing it—"

"Forget about seniority—" Cohen waved his hand. "Old Water Snake, and the three of you—do you have any other relatives in Greece?"

"Relatives have a lot to say..." the old water snake recalled. "I also have a litter of brothers and sisters—but I don't know if they're alive or dead now..."

“Logically speaking, the only relatives are from the water snake side,” the goat explained to Cohen, “but we can’t rule out some blood ties…”

"You guys don't happen to have some connection with a griffin, do you...?" Cohen felt that reality was developing in a familiar plot structure.

"A griffin?" The goat thought for a moment. "They shouldn't be related by blood. Has a Greek griffin come looking for us?"

Although Chimeramon seemed unfamiliar with this, the old water serpent appeared to be quite familiar with Griffin.

And it started to evolve into a coiled-up pile of dung, something that seems to happen to all snakes when they're unhappy or uneasy—

"What have you done now...?" Cohen asked helplessly.

It's no wonder that every head of the Kemera Beasts treated this old water serpent this way—Cohen felt he was quickly becoming like them.

"Maybe it's because of the fight we had last time?" the old water snake said sheepishly. "It tried to steal a ribbonfish I'd been chasing for ages—how could I let that go? I immediately started fighting it—"

"You think you can defeat a griffin?" The long-horned water serpent tail was skeptical.

"I just didn't want to get serious," the old water snake said, turning his head slightly. "Could this kid in his fifties possibly beat me?"

"Then why did it chase you all the way here?" Cohen asked. "If you could beat it—it wouldn't have flown this far to find you, would it?"

"Maybe it's because I scared its son..." the old water snake muttered. "Who told it to scratch me like that? It scratched so hard, it hurt for days..."

(End of this chapter)