Who let this Dementor into Hogwarts!

Chapter 421 Shouldn't mentally ill patients be ineligible for professorships?

“Slander,” Professor McGonagall said through gritted teeth. “We all know what’s behind this.”

“Of course, because of that evil dark magic experiment subject.” Umbridge said in a matter-of-fact tone, her posture becoming arrogant and affected now that she had found an excuse. “Dumbledore wanted to protect him, so he made up the lie that the mysterious man had been resurrected, didn’t he?”

“A complete fallacy from beginning to end,” Professor McGonagall said coldly. “Go to Gryffindor Tower and find the evidence you’re talking about. If you can’t find it, we’ll go to Dumbledore’s place. You go and explain your absurd behavior tonight to Dumbledore.”

Umbridge strode out of the office, Professor McGonagall following behind.

Although Professor McGonagall thought Cohen wouldn't do such a thing—but… what if it really was him?
Dumbledore said that Cohen was also aware of the Ministry of Magic's targeting of their family, and what if Cohen wanted to retaliate in this way?
I hope that child won't do something so foolish...

“Professors…” Filch tried to interrupt as the two professors were leaving—because he had just heard a distinct, terrifying hissing sound outside the door.

But Umbridge only left with the words, "Shut up and get out of my way."

Filch shut his mouth and stood aside, feeling sullen.

“Argus, go and rest. I’ll handle this,” Professor McGonagall said to Filch, then caught up with Umbridge, who was practically running.

"You two go to the secret room—Sophia, you know where the secret room is, right?" Cohen said.

"I know! It's inside the long tube!" said the little snake monster. "Grandpa's old home!"

"What a great place! Are there any fish?" the old water snake asked curiously.

No, hurry, I need to get back into my body and pretend right away.

After Cohen finished speaking, he quickly climbed upwards, passing through layers of stone floors in the castle and floating towards the Gryffindor Tower.

Fortunately, when we came out, we didn't go through the portrait of the fat lady, but chose the pipes in the wall.

With his body constantly "sleeping" in the dormitory, he now had a perfect alibi.

Cohen couldn't help but laugh at the thought of seeing Umbridge's impotent rage later on.

……

Eighth floor, outside the Gryffindor common room.

"Have any students gone out at night?" Umbridge asked the fat lady sternly.

“No, professors,” the plump lady said with a yawn. “This door hasn’t been opened last night.”

“You heard that, Dolores,” Professor McGonagall said, staring at Umbridge through her glasses.

“The portrait could also cover it up.” Umbridge wouldn’t listen to anything else; she was eager to catch him red-handed—Connelly would be very happy if she could get something on Cohen Norton.

"Open the door!" Umbridge commanded.

"Mibu Mibu." Professor McGonagall gave the command, and the fat lady opened the round hole leading to the lounge for them.

Cohen was already waiting in the dormitory, just waiting for Umbridge to rush in.

Not long after—

"boom!"

A loud slam of the door, filled with both anger and elation, echoed in Cohen's dormitory.

"Where are they firing grenades?" Simo mumbled, still half asleep.

"Who farted?" Harry rubbed his eyes, but couldn't find his glasses, so he could only look at the light coming from the doorway with blurry vision.

Ron was still snoring. "Don't you guys want to sleep? Be careful or I'll put you in solitary confinement—" Cohen also returned to his body, rubbing his eyes, throwing off the covers, and said with a bit of morning grumpiness.

"Have you found the evidence you're looking for, Dolores?" Professor McGonagall looked sharply at Umbridge. "Now go explain what you've done to Dumbledore."

“You escaped pretty quickly.” Umbridge said relentlessly, charging aggressively toward Cohen’s bed and reaching out with his hand, which was so fat that the knuckles were no longer visible.

"What are you doing!" Cohen exclaimed, clutching his chest. "I don't like being touched by old, ugly women—"

Umbridge's eyes were bulging out—veins were popping out of her forehead, making her look like a madwoman.

"Shut up!" She roughly twisted Cohen's arm and reached straight for the back of his neck—she wanted to touch the sweat on Cohen's body, but Cohen's body was cold and dry, showing no signs of any strenuous activity.

"Let go of the student, Dolores!" Professor McGonagall stormed over angrily, trying to pull Umbridge away from Cohen. "I've never seen anything so rough—"

"Professor McGonagall, what happened?" Harry asked, puzzled.

"You're pinching my hand a little, it hurts a bit," Cohen kindly reminded him.

It doesn't hurt much, the main problem is that Umbridge will die after her skin is broken.

The ten seconds of torment from the liquid curse were still too short.

Cohen's pent-up desire to cause trouble hasn't been fully unleashed yet.

“Fine, fine,” Umbridge said through gritted teeth, sounding angry but unable to find fault.

Cohen gave her a defiant look, as if to say, "What can you do to me?"

“I know it was you,” Umbridge said viciously. “You filthy little bastard—”

“Umbridge! I warned you!” Professor McGonagall angrily pulled her away from Cohen. “Don’t you dare insult my student! Come on! Go to Dumbledore. You must explain what you did tonight and apologize!”

“Professor McGonagall, at Hogwarts, are people with mental illnesses not allowed to hold teaching positions?” Cohen wiped the back of his neck with Harry’s glasses cloth, as if he were disgusted that Umbridge had touched that spot.

Umbridge was trembling with rage; if Professor McGonagall hadn't stopped her, she probably would have pounced on Cohen and delivered her own head to the ground.

“Of course,” Professor McGonagall said.

Umbridge was even angrier.

Professor McGonagall pulled Umbridge away, leaving them only with the words "get some rest."

But no one in the entire dormitory could sleep.

Even Ron was woken up by the ensuing argument.

"What happened? Why is that toad so angry?" Ron asked, puzzled.

"Cohen, what are you doing—" Harry asked, frowning, as he saw Cohen wiping the back of his neck with his glasses cloth.

"I just got touched by a toad, it's a bit disgusting, I wanted to wipe it off," Cohen said.

"Then why are you using my eyeglass cloth?!" Harry exclaimed, his eyes wide. But when Cohen tried to return it, Harry quickly refused, "No—I don't want it anymore..."

"So what exactly happened?" Ron asked Cohen, sitting on the bed. "Why did Professor McGonagall also get into an argument with her?"

Simo seemed eager to join the discussion, but remembering his earlier argument with Cohen and the others, he ultimately chose to sullenly crawl back into bed.

“I guess it was scared by something and thought I did it,” Cohen said. “Remember, I’m the Ministry of Magic’s number one troublemaker.”

(End of this chapter)