Who let this Dementor into Hogwarts!

Chapter 423 It's quite normal to develop a new pen pal.
A short while later, Professor McGonagall came and distributed course schedules to each of them.

To be honest, after seeing the course schedule for this semester, Cohen felt that his good days at Hogwarts were coming to an end.

"Are you trying to kill us this semester?" Ron said incredulously. "Look at this—History of Magic, Potions, Divination, Defense Against the Dark Arts, all two classes back-to-back—is there really that much time to attend eight classes a day?"

“I have a strange sense of familiarity with this,” Cohen sighed.

Cohen had only ever seen this level of course density in high school in his previous life.

However, Professor McGonagall seemed to have lied to Umbridge last night—their first class this morning wasn't Transfiguration.

"Cohen, how's the research on Fred and George's special effects skip-school candy going?" Ron pinned his hopes on Cohen. "As a shareholder, could you help me get some..."

"What?! Our major shareholder helped us get business?!" Fred jumped out from behind them with a grin.

“I’m looking for you,” Hermione said in a businesslike tone. “You can’t post ads on the Gryffindor bulletin board to recruit test subjects.”

“Who said that?” George raised his eyebrows.

“It means you have to post it somewhere Professor McGonagall won’t catch you, like next to the bulletin board,” Cohen said.

“Oh, oh, oh,” George said. “Then let’s go somewhere else—but that would be much less effective for advertising…”

“The key isn’t the location, but the reach of the publicity—I think there should be a copy posted in every common room,” Cohen suggested. “That would be more efficient.”

“Cohen!” Hermione’s eyes widened.

“George and I have thought about it, but the cost will be a bit higher than expected—especially in Ravenclaw,” Fred said. “They’re very shrewd; they said the bulletin board in Ravenclaw requires payment to rent.”

“It’s just a matter of money. If it’s less than ten Galleons, I’ll cover the rental fee.” Cohen waved his hand.

“Ten Galleons…” Ron swallowed hard.

“If it’s too high, there’s no need for it. You can just put it on the door of their lounge,” Cohen said.

“You don’t look like a prefect at all,” Fred said, appearing extremely pleased.

Hermione glared angrily at Cohen, wanting to say something more.

“Hermione, you’ll change your mind soon,” George said. “Because you’re in fifth grade now, it won’t be long before you’re begging us for candy.”

"Why?" Hermione asked, frowning.

“Fifth grade is the year of OWL,” Fred said. “You’ll be dealing with endless exams—Cohen and we’ll make a fortune from that soon.”

“Because of OWL, half the students in our grade have gotten into minor trouble,” George said. “They’ve been crying, throwing tantrums, faking dizziness and then going to the school clinic to bother Mrs. Pomfrey…”

“Cohen, is there any risk involved in your…test subject?” Ron asked Cohen.

“How could our little brother ignore his two older brothers and go ask Cohen?” Fred said sadly.

“There shouldn’t be any danger to his life,” Cohen said. “After all, there’s a school hospital.”

“Don’t be silly.” George patted Ron on the head. “The most dangerous thing in our ingredients is vixen feces. You’ve already eaten at least a bowl of it over the summer.”

"What?!" Ron asked, his eyes wide.

"I put it in your breakfast porridge; it helps with bowel movements," Fred said, unable to suppress a laugh.

“I’m going to kill you all!” Ron shouted, brandishing his fork, but Fred and George had already slipped away.

"This stuff is also put in potions." Cohen remembered that he had heard of it before when he made potions according to the goat's recipe. It could be used to mark unauthorized users—although Cohen did not add it.

“How disgusting…” Ron gagged. “I absolutely don’t want to participate in this ridiculous product test anymore…”

After breakfast, Cohen wanted to ask Ginny about his pen pal, but he couldn't find her anywhere.

Arriving at the History of Magic classroom, Cohen was already feeling sleepy even before the class began. "Professor Binns' magic is truly terrifying," Cohen muttered, unable to stop himself from yawning.

“+1,” Harry said.

“+1,” Ron said.

“You know this isn’t magic at all,” Hermione said.

Throughout the entire class, apart from listening to Professor Binns for the first two minutes to see if he had made any grammatical mistakes, Cohen, Harry, and Ron spent the remaining 118 minutes playing triangular checkers under the table (a checkerboard drawn on paper, with Cohen's ink magic allowing the colored ink dots on it to move on the board).

“I’m starting to admire my dad for being able to make such a huge Dungeons & Dragons board,” Cohen said after class. “Just controlling those ink dots was driving me crazy, and my eyes were blurry.”

“What would happen if I didn’t lend you the History of Magic Notebook this year?” Hermione asked them coldly.

“Then our History of Magic Owl will fail,” Ron said. “If you want to be tormented by your conscience, Hermione…”

“I’m actually feeling okay,” Cohen said, “but the homework will definitely be a hassle—wait, you don’t mean they won’t let us copy their homework anymore, do you?”

The History of Magic exam was nothing to Cohen; all he needed was one student in the exam hall who got an O.

But homework would be a real problem—because the history of magic happens to be the subject the Earl is least proficient in.

“Hmph, that’s what you deserve,” Hermione snapped. “You weren’t paying attention at all.”

“We tried our best,” Ron said, while Harry and Cohen nodded frantically beside him. “We just don’t have your brain, your memory, your attention span… You’re just smart, okay? Stop bringing up things that are hard to swallow.”

“Yes, yes,” Harry and Cohen echoed.

"Hmph, don't try to sweet-talk me," Hermione said, though her expression had clearly softened, indicating that tonight's homework was still available for copying.

"Impressive." Cohen secretly gave Ron a thumbs up.

Ron waved to Cohen with an expression that said, "So-so, third best in the world."

"Hey, Ginny!" On his way to Potions class, Cohen saw Ginny coming up from the underground classroom and chased after her, leaving Ron and the others behind.

"Cohen, what's wrong?" Ginny asked, puzzled.

"You mentioned having a new pen pal earlier in the car—"

"Ron sent you?" Ginny's face darkened. "I won't say anything."

“No,” Cohen said. “I saw his name—Carlton Gray—don’t worry, I didn’t tell Ron.”

Ginny looked at Cohen suspiciously, but her guard lowered a little.

Because Ron hasn't come to question me yet with things like, "Why are you dating a male pen pal?"

“Do you know what kind of person he is?” Cohen asked. “How old is he? Which area does he live in?”

“He didn’t tell me his age, all I know is that he lives in Devon,” Ginny said. “But he should have graduated from Hogwarts by now… Is there a problem?”

If they manage to acquire the territory, the Earl will be able to find this person who suddenly appeared...

“A little,” Cohen said, “but I need to be sure that if he asks you to do something in real life, don’t agree.”

“I know that,” Ginny said with some curiosity. “Bill once had a hole burned in his ear by his pen pal, so I’m very careful with letters and things that come my way—is he a Death Eater?”

"It shouldn't be—hmm? Did you notice something wrong with him?" Cohen asked alertly.

“I just think he’s a bit too open about discussing dark magic,” Ginny said. “But I’m not sure if he doesn’t respond to my opinion on the resurrection of the Void in his next letter. I’m planning to tell my dad where he is—I’m not telling Ron because he’s making a big deal out of nothing. Who knows what will happen if he finds out I’m corresponding with a Death Eater.”

(End of this chapter)